Alias
A Free Agent

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It's called Alias, not Ford Focus's Alias

Just then, Sloaney Sales himself enters with his troops. Syd screams, "Sloane!" and pulls out her gun. Well, that was smart. Sloane's boys pull out their own guns. Chaos erupts in the bank. "I warned you, Sydney," sneers Sloane. "I can't guarantee your safety in a situation like this." "There is NO way I'm letting you walk out of here," she snaps. Sloane looks past her at Vaughn. "Ah," he smirks, "you must be the man Sark told me about. The man Sydney was willing to kill me for." "She would have killed you for a lot less," Vaughn gruffs.

Syd ineffectually demands that Sloane give up. Sloane informs her that not only will he not give up, but if she pushes his buttons, he's thought ahead and stocked the basement with enough C-4 to blow the bank and its surroundings sky high. Syd's all, you're bluffing. Sloane's all, bluffing, am I? How's this for bluffing? Take a look at my little detonator friend here. Oh, and I ain't the only one with the detonator, princess. My boy Sarkie's got mah back. "Lower your guns," Sloane orders.

Syd and Vaughn do so. Sloane then orders them to drop their guns. They do so. Then, instead of just mowing them both down in a spray of gunfire, Sloane does something surprising; he tosses Syd the keys to his own Ford Focus and declares that she's going drive his sorry puckered ass outta there. Syd just looks at him for a good solid minute as The Strings Of Sloane's Satanic Scenario screech across the soundtrack.

And now I'm going to bed. Thank you. And goodnight.

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Alias

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