Oops Center. Irina's typing away as Vaughn watches. Kendall walks up. "Are you making any progress here?" "Like Echelon," she says calmly, "Swarm has access points. If I can locate the directory we will know if there are any accessible points." Yawn. Vaughn's all, yeah, so that way we could keep SD-6 AND Cuvee off the system, right? Irina doesn't respond, instead snapping, "I'd like a coffee please." Kendall looks at Vaughn, who looks less than pleased. "Cream or sugar?" he grits out from behind his teeth. Irina turns and just shoots him a look. Vaughn's all, oh, right, sorry. You're an international terrorist. Black, right? Irina's all, yep. Oh, and drop the attitude, Prince Charming. How's Alice, by the way? How I miss her so.
After Vaughn returns from nabbing Irina a little java, he runs into Spy Daddy, who's just received a call that Face Doneaway wants to meet with him. Vaughn's all, does she know anything? Jack's all, gee, I dunno, Wonderboy. Maybe she just wants to do me in the back of her pickup truck. Or, maybe she's Nosferatu and wants to suck my blood, thereby granting her eternal life. What the fuck do YOU think? Oh, and whether or not she knows anything is pretty irrelevant, considering that she has two units from security section prepared to take me in. "I have to be ready for anything," he gruffs as they walk off.
Later, Jack and Face are chilling al fresco at some restaurant. Of course, they're in the shade, because if Face gets anywhere NEAR the sun, she'll go up in flames. Face is all, I'm so impressed with your well-documented record, sweetie pie. You couldn't have been more thorough if you tried. Jack turns on the charm and says, "If I may ask, what is it you're looking for?" Face doesn't answer him and instead says, "There are only two pieces of evidence I haven't been able to corroborate. Help me with them, and we're finished."
Meanwhile, Vaughn and Hot Agent Craig are doing bong hits in a surveillance van nearby. Hot Agent Craig is monitoring the action, and states that Face has the place wired. Vaughn informs Jack via his earpiece that the CIA can make six agents from security section. Vaughn's voice is so loud it sounds like he's sitting at the table yelling into Jack's ear.
Then, as the writers start a gasoline-fueled bonfire in the corner of the patio, various plot devices fall out of the woodwork and stumble toward the light of the flames, mesmerized. The writers gaily grab them and toss them on the logs, laughing merrily as the audience is so distracted that we completely forget to question or guffaw at the complete contrivance that rears its ugly head here momentarily. Face Doneaway says to Jack, "Every time you make a phone call on your STU, the SIM card on your cell phone communicates with the local cell tower. Those communications are recorded on the card's memory chip. It's kind of like a mini travelogue." What? What was that? Pretty flames! Pretty colors! Jack spits that he's familiar with the phone thing.