Papa, Can You Hear Me?

Ten Things I Learned While Watching Alias:

1. Sometimes, when the episodes are full of action, the recaps aren't as funny. They just aren't.
2. I wish Jack Bristow was my father. Not that I don't love my father dearly, but unless he has a hidden weapons silo somewhere, he's just not nearly as cool as Spy Daddy.
3. Once again, I'm finding Sloane attractive. And this frightens me.
4. Filler episodes can sometimes be fun.
5. Pruitt Taylor Vince has an eye condition that makes him totally creepy.
6. Killjoy did something selfless for once and then shot someone, so now she's known as "Lauren" in my book. Later, if she does something else cool, she may even become known as "Stormin' Lauren."
7. Where in the fuck is Djimon Hounsou?
8. Where in the fuck is Francinator?
9. Where in the fuck is Spy Mommy?
10. But, most importantly, where in the FUCK is Sark?

Previously on Alias: Syd and Vaughn almost made out, Syd went to Rome, Killjoy dropped a dime on her location, and Syd got nabbed by the NSC. But make sure you remember that part about the "almost making out," because that? Ruled.

For some weird reason, we jump right from the previouslys to the Alias opening music. It's so unexpected that I actually almost forget to dance. I just sort of stand there, rooted to the spot, gape-mouthed and wondering what to do . Then the Spy Barbie theme kicks in and I come to my senses, completing a rather hurried rendition of the Spy Frug. During the commercial break, I check my meds for proper dosage and determine that J.J. Abrams is, indeed, just fucking with us.

The Desert. Yeah, the titles tells us WHERE (and I think it's a military prison) but I was so freaked by the out-of-order credit sequence that I accidentally stopped the tape to check and see if it was working and, when I turned it back on, I missed the title card. Shoot me. Anyway, we're in the desert, and before we know it, we're riding shotgun in a helicopter filled to the brim with military personnel. Between them sits a hooded figure. Two guesses who it is. By the way, the credits inform us that the two sweeps-related special guest stars tonight are Pruitt Taylor Vince and Richard Roundtree. Great. So we have the talented-but-not-entirely-uncreepy googly-eyed PTV -- and Shaft? What in the HELL are we in for in this episode?

The 'copter lands, and the military dudes roughly escort the hooded captor inside some building. Once inside, they pass through a series of sliding bar doors until they come to a particular set that somehow signals the military dudes to remove their captor's hood. Yeah, like, they couldn't remove it before. It's a PRISON, not Scarface's HOUSE. Who gives a shit if prisoners know what it looks like or where it is? THEY'RE IN PRISON. Anyway, the hood's removed, and of course, it's Syd, looking tired and panicked and slightly suffocated. Well, you'd be slightly suffocated too if you had to sport a big black hood on a 'copter in the middle of the damn desert.

Syd's slammed into a cell by the rather rude military dudes. Like, what, did she KILL someone? Oh. Wait. Um. Never mind. We leave Syd to contemplate what life will be like in a 4 x 6 room with no ocean view, and head on over to Oops Center, where Head is getting veddy comfortable in his role as Lead Mucky Muck; he's storming through the halls and spitting out orders as if he actually belongs there. Yeah. Go back through the recaps and do a search for "Kendall" if you want to know who actually belongs here.

Head enters the main powwow area and barks at Killjoy. He wants to know if Dix talked to the Director of Central Intelligence. Killjoy informs Head that he did. Then Head just runs through a litany of crap he wants Killjoy to do in order to keep tabs on this particular branch of the CIA. He wants complete access to all emails and correspondence coming into this office in the past two years. Killjoy says, with not a little annoyance, that she's on it. They bust into Dix's office, where Agent Sean and First Mate Forehead are hanging out, shooting the shit with their Cuddly Uncle Dix.

Head wastes no time in acting like a complete and total penishead, and snits something about the DCI telling Dix to hand over control of this Sydney task force to the NSC. He expects that Dix and his crew will cooperate fully. While he's saying all this, Killjoy's putting on a face that is a combination of Maria Bello and "I'm bitchy because I CAN be." Vaughn shoots her a look that says, "If you think I'm ever gonna forgive you for sending my platonic non-sexual ex-girlfriend up the river, then think again, Stool Pigeon." Killjoy just looks back at him as if to say, "Okay, whatever, I'm sorry. But don't my new collagen lips look STUNNING?"

"No, not exactly," says Dixon, referring not to Killjoy's pumped-up orifice but to Head's question about cooperation. "I explained to my superiors that the decision was mine to withhold information from the NSC regarding Sydney Bristow's involvement, and that the members of my staff in question were acting under direct orders from me." Hee. Way to go, Dixon. Head's all, oh, sure, whatevah! I'm in charge now, you loser! Dix just calmly tells him that his staff will remain and cooperate with any ongoing investigation. Head's all, not your staff anymore! Neener neener! Last one out's a rotten egg! Dix just says, with supreme dignity, "I wouldn't expect anything less from you, [Head]." Heh. Head's all, yeah, so, like, one o' my boyz will escort you out, okay? And, like, hand over all yer credentials and -- Dix just walks over and hands him a little manila envelope containing all his credentials, thereby taking the wind completely out of Head's sails. He's like, yeah, like, gimme your credentials! Like that! Ha! Mine! They're mine now! He really is Daffy Duck, you know. "Dethhhhpicable!"

Dix just calmly walks out, and there's a moment of silence while Head wipes the imaginary blood from his freshly tagged nose. He goes behind Dix's desk and looks at Sean and Vaughn. He's all, yeah, um, so, you guys are totally gonna be questioned as well, okay? So don't make any long-term plans, right? And I'm the boss around here! Vaughn just looks at Head like he's sprouted antennae and wings and a hardback shell and is thisclose to entering the nearest roach motel. "Let's not make this any harder than it has to be," says Head, trying out what seems to be a smile. It just makes him look like he has to fart. Vaughn just goes, "It's too late for that," and turns around, snapping at his wife, "I need to talk to you, right now," as he passes by. Heh. She is SO gonna get a smackdown.

The Elephants storm out of the office and locate the nearest private corner to have their first full-on fight. Luckily for us, their idea of "private corner" constitutes "right in the middle of the damn Oops Center and right in front of a really well-lit wall of glass." Are you really interested in the exact transcription of this scene? Because I'm not. Killjoy's all, before you even start, I totally thought I was doing what was right! Vaughn's all, oh, spare me, you jealous little tart! Syd's in custody because of you. Killjoy's all, but Sydney murdered Lazarathankgodit'sfriday! Vaughn's all, shut up! Just shut the fuck up! Don't act like this is your first day on the job! My hotter-than-hell ex-girlfriend is in HEAD'S custody, not the NSC'S and you KNOW IT!

It keeps going on and on and back and forth and basically, Vaughn's right, but so is she, and he's being kind of a dick about it, and she's being incredibly naïve, and Killjoy kind of wraps it up by saying something about how not only is Vaughn underestimating her ability to do her job, but he's also questioning her humanity. Then she comes to the glaring realization that her husband helped Syd get out of the country. Vaughn doesn't answer and just sort of looks through her as if she's made of gauze and there's a really big piece of black forest cake on a table behind her.

Killjoy realizes that she's getting nowhere with her mensch of a husband and just informs him that Head's asked her to write the White House brief, which pretty much negates Vaughn's theory that Head intends to give Syd a little of that brain-damaging neurostim that everyone's so damn fond of talking about. Vaughn's all, the whuh? In the whuh whuh? Killjoy's all, that's right, big guy. I'm going with Lindsay to observe the interrogation. Looks like Head doesn't have as much to hide as you thought he did, huh? "Michael," she says with a resigned air, "for whatever reason, you're overreacting to this." He says nothing, the effort of adding twelve more furrows to his expansive brow leaving him speechless. Killjoy just sort of snits that she doesn't know when she'll be back, tosses her hair, and toddles off.

Dun-dun. Dun-dun. Dun-dun-dun-dun dun-dun-dun-dun DUNNNA NA NA! The Great White Spy Daddy is cruising through the choppy waters of Oops Center, and he spies a tidy piece of Head Chum across the sea. Slowing for a moment, Great White Spy Daddy stares at his prey, willing him to look up from the sea anemones that are capturing his attention currently. Head Chum finally looks up, and the blood-hungry shark and his prey lock eyes. "Don't make any sudden movements, Chum," Great White Spy Daddy's eyes seem to say. "Oops, I crapped my pants!" Head Chum's seem to say. Great White Spy Daddy moves on, confident in the knowledge that one day soon, there will be nice big chunks of Head Chum stuck between his teeth.

After our little foray into a National Geographic Special, Jack's walking down one of the halls and Little Vaughny Vaughn Vaughn comes running up all, "Jacky! Can I be a part of it?!" Jack's all, even if I knew what in the hell you were talking about, I'd tell you to go play with the little girls in the sandbox where you belong. Vaughn's all, oh, come on! I have tons of good ideas on how to rescue Sydney! We could partner up! Like a team! We could even get shirts and hats made! Jack's all, dude? We could be breaking the laws. And your fly's open. Vaughn won't give up, though, and finally, Jack relents, telling him to meet him in the garage in three minutes.

Spy Barbie's Prison Penthouse. Syd's doing her best to find some sort of way out of her cell, running her hands along the walls, looking for big gaping holes behind Rita Hayworth posters and some rock-carving tools. She comes up empty, however, and realizes it's futile. A voice from another cell asks her what she's doing. "Looking for somethin'?" asks Pruitt Taylor Vince, who, for the purpose of this recap, we'll just call "Pruitt," primarily because it's funnier than his actual character name. Also? He's a bad guy. I'm just telling you right now. Pruitt Taylor Vince's specialty is bad guys you can't help but love or for whom you feel sorry; that is, up until the moment they bite the head off a kitten or something. It's his niche, if you will, and I'm guaranteeing you that this dude ends up bad by the end of this thing.

So, anyway, he asks her if she's looking for something, and Syd answers, "Maybe." He sort of crawls across his bunk in a rather hunky childlike fashion and requests that if she finds any, he'll have some. "If it's candy," he husks. "God…I love…candy." So we're supposed to think that he's A) crazy, B) childishly endearing, and C) her compatriot in captivity. Yeah. He's a bad guy. He introduces himself as "Campbell," but he's still Pruitt to me. Syd introduces herself to him, and a tentative friendship is born. He pleads with her not to leave, saying it's been a long time without someone to talk to. Syd warily watches him, but you know she's just going to wind up being his buddy. She's big-hearted that way. And stupid. I mean, she is, after all, the Worst. Spy. Ever.

Meanwhile, somewhere in Hell-Lay, Jack and Vaughn are chilling out by the side of the road, and Jack informs Vaughn that they're waiting for Sloane. Vaughn's all, the WHUH? IN THE WHUH WHUH? Sloane drives up as Jack tells Vaughn that Sloane has agreed to help them make Syd's escape look like the work of the Covenant. Well, that's awfully generous of him. "Do I trust him on this?" asks Jack. "Not necessarily." Hee. Uncle Arvin gets out of his car and makes his way over to them, looking devilishly handsome in his all black outfit. They meet each other halfway, and Sloane informs the boys that Syd's being held at Camp Williams, which has an unacknowledged NSC detention center that's used for the interrogation of terrorists whose captivity the government won't admit to. Well, isn't that convenient. Sloane surmises that they'll need a full-on tactical team, weapons, backup, the lot. He suggests someone named Brill. Jack seems to like this idea. He states that they'll need to get blueprints of Camp Williams, and Little Vaughny Vaughn Vaughn pipes up that the FEMA central office is downtown and they'll have a set. Jack's all, uh, yeah, nice thinking, Tex. We'll prep for infiltration of the FEMA office, then meet back here in three hours. Sloane just smiles at him. "I told you, Jack," he smirks, "we'd work together again." Hee. Jack just walks off with his new errand boy in tow.

Spy Barbie's Prison Penthouse. Syd's being wheeled down a hallway, strapped to a gurney. This SO doesn't look good. She kind of breathes shallowly. A helicopter flies overhead. Head and Killjoy are inside. Head looks over at her and tries to bully her into reporting to the White House in such a fashion so as no one will question the NSC's ethics. He's all, so, um, write a complete and detailed report, spend lots and lots of time on it, preferably far away from wherever the hell we're torturing Sydney, and make sure you tell the Prez and his staff that we treated Syd totally fairly, mmm-kay? Killjoy's all, your head is really, really shiny and you smell like cheese.

Syd's wheeled inside a makeshift operating room of sorts where Erick Avari, a HITG! if ever there was one, awaits her. He's wearing a white coat, so he's either a doctor, a scientist, or a Clinique skin technician. The second Syd's released from her bonds, she kicks and pummels and tries to escape. She's a valiant little fighter, but she's outnumbered. They strap her down again. Back in the 'copter, Killjoy's trying to tell Head that Syd doesn't remember anything. Head's all, oh yeah? Well, when we searched her flat in Rome, we found a coded message taped to the underside of a desk. He thinks that if she can decode the message, it'll help the NSC infiltrate or even take down the Covenant. Killjoy's all, what if she can't decipher the code? Head's all, oh, punkin, don't worry your pretty little blonde head about it! As long as Syd cooperates, that nasty surgery will only exist as a threat and nothing more! Now drink your cocoa. I really don't know what the purpose of this scene is, other than to reinforce that Head's an asshole and Killjoy's incredibly naïve when it comes to her job and the government. Like, this guy's such an enormous slimeball, you can practically see him undulating from space, okay? WAKE UP, LAUREN.

Back in The Operating Room of Impending Brain Death, Syd's being juiced up with a little electroshock therapy. Without a mouth guard or brain sensors, mind you. Like, her teeth should be broken now, you know? Doc Avari tries to get Syd to decipher the code, and asks her if she recognizes her handwriting. Syd, breathing heavily, just sputters, "No -- I -- draw little hearts over my i's -- smiley faces sometimes." Hee. She's saucy when she's defying authority. And shock treatment. Doc Avari tries threatening Syd with neurostim. "Don't bother negotiating with me!" she gasps. "You better make sure I'm a vegetable when you're done with me." Aw. Brave little electrotherapy trooper. Doc Avari looks up at Head, who's standing behind a window, watching. God, he's a penis. "Try a higher setting," he says stoically over the intercom. Doc Avari cranks it up a notch, and Syd's body jumps off the table.

Commercials. X-Men 2 is complete and utter ASS. And I consider the first one a first-rate guilty pleasure, my friends. Good lord, the sequel gives new meaning to the word "assy." It's the assiest asstastic piece of filmmaking I've seen in ages. But holy moly is Hugh Jackman one hot piece o' tuna. In fact, he's so hot, that I almost don't remember the gargantuan turd of a movie surrounding him. Sigh. Talk more, Hugh. Shut up, Halle.

After repeated bouts with Mr. Electroshock, Syd's looking pretty disastrous. Doc Avari assures her that, in a couple of hours, she'll feel almost human again. Somehow I doubt that. As Doc Avari rambles on about how strong Syd's heart is, she eyes a paper clip on some papers nearby and nabs it. Yeah. Because no one's watching on security cameras or anything. Well, unless she's been enjoying her little electroshock sessions for quite some time and everyone watching got bored and went out for hoagies. So, Syd has a paper clip. And no one's the wiser. Maybe she's going to go back to her cell and make one of those fake retainer thingys like I used to make in junior high when everyone else had retainers and I didn't and I was really, really jealous. Because I was a fucking GEEK.

Ahem. Elsewhere in Camp Williams, Head's returning from the Hoagie Hut when Killjoy intercepts him and points out that she was supposed to be observing Syd's interrogation. Head just turns like, oh, you still here? Yeah, yeah, yeah, you'll observe and stuff. Unfortunately, I don't really want you to see how badly we're treating her, so I'm just gonna lie and say that part of the interrogation involves the discussion of classified materials and you're just a low-level plebian so you can't be there. Neener neener. Killjoy smells a rat. A big, six-foot, balding, penis-like, rat. She's all, uh, how can I write about an investigation I'm not even in on? Head's all oh, dude, don't worry! I'll fill you in! Let's go get some Matt's Chocolate Chip Cookies and discuss it in the cafeteria! Killjoy pulls back and apologizes. "I'm sorry, but if I'm going to chronicle our treatment of Sydney Bristow, I need to see how she's being treated." Head just looks at her, all, uh, dude? How was it, do you think, that Sydney Bristow knew to get her shapely little fanny out of the country before she was even aware the NSC wanted to take her into custody, huh? Mebbe you should ask your wrinkly-foreheaded husband, eh? I seriously doubt you want me looking into just who might have aided and abetted our favorite spy girl, huh? Light dawns on yonder Killjoy. She's all, that's why you asked for me, isn't it? You needed a witness and you KNEW I wouldn't force my hand! Head's all, don't you have a report to write? Killjoy just looks like she's going to hurl.

Then Syd's tossed onto her cot, shaking with leftover shock waves. The military dudes leave, locking the door. Pruitt whispers her name. She turns, and he gives her a blanket. Aw. That's awfully nice of the googly-eyed psycho. Pruitt tells Sydney his sob story, complete with a mention of Iran. He urges her not to give up whatever it is they're looking for. Syd just turns away, still shaking occasionally, and looks down at the paper clip in the palm of her hand.

We switch quickly to the black private dick who's the sex machine to all the chicks. Except, instead of sporting an ankle-length black leather coat, classy 'fro, and couple of guns, Richard Roundtree, a.k.a. "Shaft," is modeling a worn set of army fatigues while playing a nice quiet game of speed chess in the park. He takes a kid for fifty bucks and is in the process of reorganizing the board when a one-hundred-dollar bill lands in front of him and Jack says, "I'll put you in checkmate in ten moves." Shaft looks up and says, "Yeah, if I play with mah eyes closed." Jack takes a seat as Vaughn kind of parks it at the table.

Jack and Shaft make a little country overthrow small talk and Jack introduces Vaughn. Shaft asks if he's Bill Vaughn's kid. Vaughn goes, "Yeah. He was my father." I actually thought this was kind of funny because, duh! If you're Bill Vaughn's kid, then let's assume he's your father; I assume this is intentional, a way to show that Vaughn is caught off guard. And yes, I giggled out loud. Jack and Shaft play chess as Jack fills him in on the extraction. The details aren't really important here, except for the part where Jack says something about Sloane being involved and Shaft says, "Weeeelll…look who's putting the band back together." Hee.

Basically, all you need to take away from this scene is: A) Victor Garber and Richard Roundtree are totally cool, B) Michael Vartan is even attractive when he's just sitting there listening, and C) the op's going to be tough, they can't use lethal force, there'll have to be at least another five freelancers involved, and it's going to cost Jack a small fortune. Jack tosses an address down on the table and tells Shaft to meet him at that address in two hours. Then he checkmates him. As Jack and Vaughn walk away, Vaughn observes that they just agreed to pay Shaft two million dollars. Jack stoically responds, "Three." This indicates that Shaft gets a mil above and beyond the ops, probably for putting the team together and getting the stuff. Or something. Who knows? Michael Vartan's pretty.

Spy Daddy's Super-Secret Storage Warehouse of Weaponry. A storage door slides up, and Jack and Vaughn enter a room that is just chock full of various weapons and sundry hunting supplies. AK-47s, handguns, what looks like missiles -- um, does the Self Storage over on I-95 allow shit like this to be stored at their facility? Like, what, has Jack been, um, collecting this stuff all these years just in case? In case of what, global thermonuclear war? Good god. Vaughn's all, what in the HELL is this? Jack's all, oh, just a little hobby of mine. Jack then opens up a safe door, revealing approximately three hundred stacks of cash wrapped neatly in plastic. What, does he collect MONEY too? Syd's the luckiest girl in the world. If my ass got captured by the NSC, my dad would probably just chuck some cookbooks at them and order them to clean the grill. All my father ever collected were cookbooks and Calphalon cookware and that shit is sitting in my cabinets right now, just DREAMING of the day it can burn my rice.

"The fact that you're even letting me see this place," says Vaughn, loading a black bag with money, "means it's not your only one, is it?" "You're smarter than you look," quips Jack. The corner of Vaughn's mouth quirks up. Hee hee. Father-in-law and son-in-law banter. How we've dreamed of this day. Back at Camp Give Up The Code Or Have Your Brain Removed With A Spoon, Killjoy's trying to draft a letter to someone that starts, "I, Lauren Reed." Either she's going to give up the goods on Head, or she's going to resign. I wish she'd resign and move to Borneo, but that's probably not going to happen.

Elsewhere in the building, Syd's getting carted, once again, into the operating room. As Doc Avari blathers on about Syd making friends with Pruitt, Syd tries to work her magic with the paper clip and the strap around her right wrist. She unlocks it, and when a military dude goes to unlock her left wrist, Syd punches him in the face. She goes commando on the remaining military dudes and puts them all down for the count in about five seconds. Doc Avari's down too, but then a tranq gun falls to the floor and both he and Syd lunge for it. They get there at the same time and struggle with the gun, until finally Syd shoots a dart right in the doc's chest. Ouch. Nighty-night, doc.

Syd makes a break for it and races down a hall. A code red is announced. Killjoy's continuing to write her letter as a bunch of soldiers come racing past her office. She runs after them, curious as to what the kafuffle is all about. Syd makes it through a door somewhere, only to be clotheslined by one of the soldiers. She drops like three-hundred-pound Santa after too many eggnogs. She continues to fight, though, determined to get the hell outta there. Too bad she's only one little spy and there are approximately ninety soldiers on her ass. As Killjoy exits her office, she sees one soldier hit Syd in the stomach with his club. Then another slams her head into some bars. Finally, one soldier torches her with a cattle prod and Syd finally falls for good this time. They drag her off, with Killjoy starring down at the floor as if there's a clear-cut plan there outlined in sidewalk chalk and all she has to do is follow it and become a hero in everyone's eyes. Dream on, Killjoy.

After the break, we're chillin' in a van with Sloane and his laptop. Vaughn enters and takes a seat to Spy Daddy, who's sporting a rather, erm, interesting repairman ensemble. Vaughn tells Jack that he found the box (hee!) and planted the video scrambler. Jack's supposed to activate something that Vaughn hands him, and it'll lock down the security system for as long as it takes for Jack to copy the Camp Williams blueprints. Jack informs Vaughn that Shaft's supposed to have the team hired and the equipment ready in time for the extraction tonight. Sloane just keeps on playing Tetris on his computer. Actually, he's gaining access to the trunk exchange, and the telephone company was nice enough to make everything multicolored so that the trunk exchange display looks real purdy. By hacking into the trunk exchange, Sloane has guaranteed that every incoming and outgoing call from FEMA will be routed through the Three Musketeers' number. Sloane nods at Jack. "Get ready." Jack grimaces, and some kickin' soul tunes pump up as Jack presses a button on the device Vaughn gave him. The monitors at FEMA go to snow, and Marva Whitney starts singing about what she has to do to prove her love for you. Hee. She's like a female James Brown, with all those grunts and shrieks. Perfect for a little old-school Spy Daddy action.

The main FEMA dude at the front desk picks up the phone and makes a call. Vaughn picks up. "Weller Security, can you hold please?" Hee. Hee hee. This whole sequence made me laugh my ass off. From the monitor scramble to the very end. It's just fun seeing the Hot 'n' Handsome Boys Club go to work, doing what they do best: fucking with everyone and looking good while they do it. The FEMA dude ain't holding, he wants help NOW. Vaughn claims he has a man in the area (hee!) and he'll send him over. He hangs up, looks at Jack, and then nods.

The thing we see is Jack, sauntering into FEMA, looking like they just interrupted his meatball sandwich break. Heh. He's all, yeah, I gots a call, youse guys down? Man. Man oh man. Spy Daddy is attempting a working-class accent and it SO isn't happening. The man is just TOO upper-class for words. But it's so adorable watching him try. FEMA dude's all, uh, where's Stu? Jack's all, he's got a nasal infection. "Freakin' nightmah," he says, sounding like a cross between Michael Rappaport trying to do a non-Brooklyn accent and Colin Firth trying to do a Brooklyn accent. Heh. Heh heh heh.

Elsewhere on the premises, Vaughn and Sloane are entering an underground tunnel. Sloane cracks that he's been doing this longer than Vaughn and that Jack could've taken a camera into the joint. Vaughn's all, well, yeah, but if they swept him and found a camera, this whole thing could've been over. Oh, and if he'd just been able to bring his Sony digital camera in there with him, we wouldn't have had the killer soul tunes, a working-class Spy Daddy, or an extended tension-filled action sequence involving all our favorite boy toys. Vaughn opens up a black case and starts unloading sundry items.

Back inside, a security guy comes over and tells Jack that he has to make a thorough search. "Hey," smacks Jack, "I'm new, but I'm not new, okay? I know the protocol." Heh. I'm laughing while I type this. You can't hear me, but I am. Security Guy runs his wand over Jack's body. And that's not nearly as sexual as it sounds. FEMA Dude reminds Jack that he has to accompany him at all times. Jack's all, yeah, yeah, yeah, just gimme da tools and show me da way. Heh.

Underground, Vaughn sets up a laptop and furiously types away. Inside, Jack's escorted down a hallway, and we get a glimpse of Victor Garber's seriously turned-out feet. The man's a damn ballerina. Why do I find that incredibly cute? Once inside the junction room or whatever, Jack tells FEMA Dude that the work shouldn't take long, and that, in the meantime, FEMA Dude should make sure the data files are backed up. FEMA Dude just keeps watching Jack as he tells him he's already backed up the files. Jack's all, oh, uh, right. Shit. Then I guess that means you're going to sit here and watch me work until Sloane gets off his ass and distracts you somehow.

Speaking of Sloane, he's underground, watching Vaughn work and passing the time by snarking on Killjoy. He's all, you know, I've spent a lot of time with your little woman as of late and I can definitely say that you're a lucky man. Vaughn's all, yeah, if by "lucky" you mean "really annoyed that I have to stay married to that snitch monster until such time as she's rendered dead and I can make out again with Sydney." Sloane keeps trying to get a rise out of Vaughn by surmising that all of this crap they've been going through has put a strain on the Elephants' relationship. Vaughn just ignores him and feeds a fiber optic camera up some tube. He successfully gets the camera up the tube (hee hee -- everything's pornographic if you make it so) and grunts at Sloane to "make the call."

Back at the FEMA front desk, a phone rings. Security Guy picks up and Sloane's on the other end, pretending to be Director Blackman. He acts all pissed off that the system's been down for thirty minutes, and Security Guy assures him that they're working on it. Sloane just starts to rail on the guy about security and terrorism as Vaughn continues pushing the camera up the tube, even though I really thought he got it up there just a second ago. Yeah. I have no idea what's going on. Except Sloane's chewing Security Guy a new asshole and the result is that he demands to have FEMA Dude put on the line immediately. Security Guy calls up FEMA Dude and tells him that the director wants to talk to him, like, NOW. FEMA Dude leaves, telling Jack to wait for him there. Yeah. Because there are no PHONES in this room. Whatever.

Once FEMA Dude leaves, Marva starts up again with her what-have-I-got-to-do-ing, and Jack gets to work. He starts going through all these blueprint drawers. Vaughn continues trying to get the camera up to Jack. He finally makes it and snakes it around, finally pinpointing Jack's location. FEMA Dude gets to the front desk, picks up the phone, and orders Security Guy to go check on Jack. He leaves, and FEMA Dude starts talking to Sloane. Back in the blueprint room, Jack's still looking. He finally finds the drawings and holds them up to Vaughn's camera as Sloane bawls out FEMA Dude. Vaughn takes pictures of the blueprints. Security Guy makes his way toward Jack. Jack continues holding up prints, Vaughn continues taking pics, and Sloane continues taking chunks out of FEMA Dude's ass.

Sloane's actual dialogue is hilarious. "As I'm sure you're aware, the people of Los Angeles face a myriad of potential disasters. No, we're not just talking about terrorism. In case you haven't noticed, we're due for another earthquake. Plus, because of the recent forest fire, we're susceptible to mudslide. Not to mention the fact that there seems to be a riot breaking out every time the Lakers win." Hee. Sloane finishes his tirade and Vaughn looks up at him, nodding confirmation that the blueprints have been captured. "Just make sure you get it done," says Sloane, slamming the phone closed. Security Guy enters the room and finds Jack finishing up his work. "Nothin' to it! You should be back online," declares Jack, zipping up his tools. Okay, that's totally pornographic. Sorry. Jack hands the tools to Security Guy and they head out to the desk.

The monitors come back to life. As Jack starts to head out, he hears FEMA Dude tell Security Guy to call Blackman and inform him that they're back online. Jack looks panicked and starts moving faster. Security Guy gets on the horn and asks for Director Blackman. Jack nears the door and hears Security Guy go, "Out of the country? I just spoke with him. He said he was in Washington." FEMA Dude gets wise and shouts at Jack, "HEY!" Well, that's an effective way to make someone stop. Outside, the Hot 'n' Handsome van screeches up and Jack starts running toward it. FEMA Dude and Security Guy bust out of the doors just as Sloane opens the van door and steps out, beckoning Jack to run for it. Jack does. Security Guy pulls a gun and demands that Jack get his hands in the air. Jack dives into the van just as Security Guy takes a shot. Sloane suddenly jumps in front of Jack's retreating back and takes the bullet. D'oh! Hope he's got some extra Rambaldi Life Juice in a canteen somewhere.

Commercials. Okay, the new Pepsi commercials are totally cute. "Hot dogs love Pepsi." Hee. And I hate to say it, but I totally want to see The Last Samurai. Not because of Tom Cruise, but in spite of him. The stunts look amazing and Cruise did 99 percent of them, so that's pretty cool. Besides, I just love all that Japanese culture shit. Especially samurais. I don't like my friend Sandman's Japanese girlfriend, but that's because she's eighteen pounds of crazy in a two-pound bag, not because she's from the Land of the Rising Sun. Oh, and Trista and Ryan are really fucking annoying, and I give them a year before he dumps her sorry pink-loving ASS.

Spy Daddy's Super-Secret Storage Warehouse of Weaponry. The Boys enter and throw Sloane down onto a table in the center of the room. Jack shouts at Vaughn to get some 4x4s. Vaughn goes to some huge cabinet at the end of the room that's filled with medical supplies. So, it would seem that, in addition to millions of Saran-Wrapped stacks of moola and a mini-arsenal that rivals anything Osama Bin Laden might have tucked away beneath a mountain, Spy Daddy also maintains a well-stocked makeshift operating room. Man. The only well-stocked makeshift ANYTHING my father kept was his model ship-making studio in the basement. I don't really think that would have helped me out if one of my boyfriends had been shot en route to the Burger King in downtown Lake Forest.

Jack cuts away Sloane's shirt as he groans and grimaces. Vaughn keeps pressure on the wound as Jack tells Sloane to breathe. As Vaughn applies pressure, Jack pulls out an ampoule and a needle. Vaughn's all, what's that? Jack's all, morphine, dude. Vaughn's all, hey, I want a hit as much as the guy, but don't you think we should wait until AFTER we get this bullet out of Uncle Arvin? Jack's all, duh, dumbass, the morphine's FOR Uncle Arvin. Sloane pipes up, "No! No morphine! I'll go into anaphylactic shock!" Jack's all, dude? We have to dig the bullet out! Sloane's all, you gimme that shot and I'll be dead before you hit the bullet! "And don't get any ideas," he grunts. Heh. Yeah. That death-by-morphine thing is SO going to be significant later.

So, no morphine for Uncle Arvin. Vaughn pockets the ampoule for later use, you know, just in case he runs into Courtney Love at The Viper Room or something. Vaughn and Jack strap Sloane down to the table to prevent him from thrashing. "Give him your belt to bite down on!" Jack orders. "Oh, I don't need a belt!" gasps Sloane. "Well, we don't care what you need or don't need," says Spy Daddy. "If Vaughn takes off his belt, his pants might fall down and that's more important than your needs at the moment." Vaughn shoves his belt into Sloane's mouth, and Sloane clamps down. Vaughn grabs a light and shines it down onto Sloane as Jack starts to extract the bullet. Sloane screams and chews on the belt. Vaughn just watches, hoping that nothing like this happens at his and Syd's wedding because that would really ruin the moment. Sloane passes out and Jack removes the bullet, dropping it into a tray. Ew.

Spy Barbie's Prison Penthouse. Syd's taking a well-deserved nap. Pruitt greets her and tells her to think about the ocean, because that's what he does when he doesn't feel good. Pruitt goes on to talk about his son and how he doesn't remember how old he is and it's a very effective performance, but that's really just what it is: a performance. The man's evil, dudes. Syd falls for it, though, and starts crying, feeling pure empathy with him. She asks his son's name and Pruitt tells her it's Benjamin. Then he holds up a picture of him, and it's actually a picture of Jonathan Lipnicki and Syd goes, hey, wait! That's -- you're not a nice guy! You're an evil guy! And that kid's REALLY ANNOYING. Or she just sits there and cries.

Jack's Impromptu Operating Theater of Male Bonding. Sloane's still out cold. Jack's performing some very nice suture work as Vaughn asks if Sloane's going to be all right. "He'll recover," gruffs Jack. He has his shirtsleeves rolled up and he's wearing a nice pair of bifocals, which only add to his attractiveness. Of course, I think Victor Garber could wear a pair swim goggles and unitard and he'd still be attractive. "I didn't know you wore glasses," says Vaughn. "Only during surgery," says Jack with a wry smile. Hee. Vaughn smiles a bit in response, then tells Jack he's going to go download the blueprints.

"But we're still going to need security codes to get into Camp Williams," he says. Jack suggests trying Marshall. Vaughn's all, isn't that going to be a bit tricky? I mean, what with all the NSC agents crawling around? "Yes," says Jack, giving Vaughn a look over his glasses. "If only Marshall had a well-trained CIA operative to assist him." Hee. "You're starting to like me again," says Vaughn with a quirk of a smile. Hee hee. Vaughn gets up to leave and Jack says, "Vaughn, with or without those codes, we'll be infiltrating Camp Williams in five hours." Vaughn just looks at him, resigned to this plan of action.

Camp Wendy O. Williams. Head enters and Killjoy intercepts him, handing over her report. He apologizes for being tough on her before. She blah blahs that she's not naïve and that she understands about unorthodox methods of interrogation, but he had no right to blackmail her with the arrest of her husband. Head just looks over the report and tells her not to mention Doc Avari or Pruitt and to just stick with Bristow. Then he orders her to go back to the CIA and hand her report to some guy named Miller. "We'll want you back in six hours," he says, "to report on the final results." He walks off.

Oops Center. Vaughn enters and looks around at all the NSC people hovering over CIA agents. He heads into Marshall's office. Before Vaughn can state his business, Marshall just has to show us one of his goofy inventions. This time, it's telephoto lenses based on an owl's eye. He's sporting these bottle lenses and gibbers something about how you press a button and zoom in on -- whoa! Nice pores! You exfoliate? Okay. Funny. That was funny.

Vaughn's not laughing, though; he just asks if Marshall is able to access classified documents on the NSC network. "Well, I don't have access," says Marshall, removing the glasses. "I know," says Vaughn. Marshall turns, and Vaughn gives this little nod with his head that says, "Dude. Do a guy a solid here, okay? Let's break some laws!" Marshall gets it. Unfortunately, forensic guys are monitoring the network. Vaughn asks if he can bypass that. Marshall's all, dude. Of course. It's me. But…Vaughn just looks at him. Once again, Marshall gets it. "If I give you the codes, you're gonna bust her out, aren't ya?" he asks, futzing around with his toys and stuff. "Kick some NSC booty? Can I just say -- love." Hee.

Jack's Impromptu Operating Theater of Male Bonding. Sloane's awake. Jack says that he's been trying to come up with a single reason why Sloane saved his life. His only conclusion is that it would incur some feeling of debt on Jack's part. Sloane's all, dude? Don't you think that if I had some hidden agenda, it'd be easier to obtain if you and your nimble minx of a daughter were DEAD? Jack's all, or maybe you need us for something. Something you believe only we can provide. Sloane's all, yeah. Right. You're right about that. No matter how many starving children I save, no humanitarian action can ever erase my past crimes. "With the death of my wife," he says, looking right at Jack, "you and Sydney are my absolution. My penance. You're all I have left." Well, I buy that. And I think Jack's buying it too, judging by the deep furrow on his brow and the heavy purse on his lips. Say what you will about Sloane; even when he's evil, he's very, very good.

Back with Marshall and Vaughn, Marshall's close to getting the codes. Unfortunately, just when he thinks he's nabbed them, he realizes that the file with the access codes has been deleted. And that's not all. All records pertaining to Camp Williams have been removed too. Just then, the door opens. It's Killjoy. She wants to talk to her hubby. Marshall wisely leaves. Killjoy whimpers that Vaughn was right about Lindsey and that he's a bad bad BAD man. "I know you're working on something," she says. "I want to help." Vaughn just looks at his wife with an expression of, "Finally! Now THIS is the girl that I married! Way to go, honey!" Yeah. I might have to stop calling her Killjoy now. Shut up. I gave her the name and I can take it away.

Camp Wannahockaloogie. Some barred doors open up, and a couple of grim-looking soldiers start walking down a hall. They make their way to Pruitt's cell and unlock it, ordering him to his feet. Syd's all, hey, wait! Whassup? The soldiers ignore her and start beating the shit out of Pruitt for no damn reason. Hi. Red flag, anyone? Unless he peed in their cornflakes, this abuse is totally unnecessary and therefore should have told Syd, FAKE! FAKING! FAKE FAKE FAKE! But she's the Worst Spy Ever, so she just shouts, "What're you doin' to him?" "That all depends on you," sneers Head, having just appeared outside her cell. See, anytime something bad happens, you can bet your sweet ass Head's right around the corner.

Syd's all, wait. Head's all, oops! Too late. No waiting! One of the soldiers stabs Pruitt in the leg. Syd's all, you killed Pruitt! You bastard! Head's all, hey, man, tell me what's in the code and we'll stop poking the fat guy. Syd's all, I WILL KILL YOU FOR THIS. Yeah, won't you have to get out of PRISON first, Syd? The soldier stabs Pruitt in the side. Syd's all, stop! STOP! I'll tell you what it says! She tells Head that the code is coordinates. Head wants to know to what. Syd doesn't know because she -- say it with me -- doesn't remember anything about those two years. Syd recites the coordinates, which are north 34 degrees, 09 minutes, 55.9 seconds and west 118 degrees, 17 minutes, 15.3 seconds. Yeah. Means nothing to me. But it means something to Head, because he writes them down and tells the soldiers to get a team prepped.

One of the soldiers walks off, and Head looks down at Pruitt. "Well done," he snarks. Pruitt easily gets to his feet. "Oh my god," says Syd. He walks over to her and informs Syd that he's not who she thought he was, and that her personality profile revealed that empathetic suffering is harder for her to endure than physical torture. "So…thanks for caring," he says. He walks off. "There's just one more procedure left, Agent Bristow," says Head. "We'll have the neurostimulation prepped in about an hour. And we'll finally know what happened to you in the last two years." Or, you know, not until week. Whatever comes first.

After yet another batch of horrific commercials, we're back with Doc Avari and his neurostim tools. He explains that after he drills a hole in Syd's skull, he'll insert a cranial shunt and drain the water from her brainpan. Ew. Once she's unconscious, they'll remove her skullcap and begin the neurostim. Yuck. Head's in the room, along with a non-surgical-glove-clad assistant. Nice sterile environment you got there, Doc. If the procedure doesn't kill her, then it's for damn sure all the rampant germs and infections will handle the job quite nicely.

Outside, a camouflage truck drives up to the outer gates. The team that Shaft's assembled is inside, along with Jack and Vaughn. Jack informs the team that an operative inside will gain access to the security room and initiate a reverse lockdown protocol, which will lock the majority of the MPs into their patrol areas. Once that's done, they'll go get Syd. "Hope your man knows what he's doing," says Shaft. "She does," says Vaughn. Heh.

Inside, Lauren (see -- I told you I'd do it) enters the security room and requests to see Head. An MP goes off to inform Head that she's here to see him. Lauren takes a seat on a table to the security console and sticks a device to it. Outside, Shaft and the boys wait for the lockdown to go into action. While they wait, Lauren sits inside, waiting herself. Just then, Pruitt enters, dressed in a nice suit from Big & Tall. He orders a chopper to Fort Lewis. He sees Lauren and warmly greets her, saying that Head's spoken fondly about her. They shake hands. At that moment, the device Lauren placed goes off and the monitors go down.

Outside, the gate starts to go up, and Shaft and the boys take down the outer guards with tranq darts. The boys move inside. Back in the security room, the MP at the monitors tells Pruitt that something's overriding the system. We hear a voice over the PA system that announces they're in lockdown and that all the doors are sealed. Pruitt tries the door, then turns and looks at Lauren. "What did you do?" he spits. "Nothing," she says innocently. And then Pruitt cracks her one on the face. Heh. Sorry. That was mean.

The Shaft Boys are racing through the halls, looking for Sydney. Pruitt overrides the overriding or something and gets himself and the MP out of the security room. The Shaft Boys continue looking for Sydney. Unfortunately, when they make it to her cell, she ain't there. Nope. She's in The Least Hygienic OR On The Face of The Planet and Doc Avari's moving toward her with the gas. Suddenly, the doors are blown wide open and Jack knocks tranq darts into everyone in the room but Syd. Jack and Vaughn start to release her from the straps when suddenly Doc Avari gets up and aims a gun at her. "Sydney!" yells Jack. Syd grabs a scalpel and gets Avari right in the throat. Bet he wishes that thing were sterilized now, huh?

Jack removes his mask, and Syd's all, "Dad!" "You're all right, sweetheart," he says, lifting her off the table. "You're all right." Oh, goodness. He's such a good daddy. The Shaft Boys grab Syd and get the hell outta there. Before they can leave, however, Pruitt shows up and starts shooting at them. There's shooting and more shooting and more shooting until d'oh! Someone shoots Pruitt from around the corner. He falls. And we see Lauren holding a gun. She looks seriously green and drops the gun like it's on fire.

Outside, a chopper's fired up and ready to go. The Shaft Boys head out with Syd, and Sloane opens the chopper door for them. Syd looks in surprise at Jack. "He's with us," he says. "Get in." Everyone loads onto the chopper and it flies off. Inside the chopper, Syd looks sadly out the window. Vaughn holds onto his severely shocked wife. "They wanted a code deciphered," says Syd as Jack looks at her with his version of concern. "That's what all this was about -- a code." "What was it?" asks Jack. "Coordinates," says Syd. "I gave Head the wrong coordinates. I didn't know what to do." Jack puts his arm around his daughter and they put their gargantuan foreheads together, closing their eyes in relief. "You made it, Sydney," says her daddy. "You made it." Jack looks at Sloane, who's leaning over the front seat, smiling beatifically at them both. Syd just kind of looks at him, then closes her eyes.

week on Alias: Or, actually, tonight, because I've been hanging out with the Mom for T-giving and haven't been able to do this damn thing until Sunday. Syd pays a visit to David Cronenberg, and that can either mean really, really good things or really, really ucky things. I'm betting on ucky.