Anyway, Syd enters the Ops Center and immediately can tell something's wrong by the number of wrinkles present on Vaughn's forehead. "What's wrong?" she asks. Vaughn's all, uh, yeah, Marshall? Sort of abducted. Syd's all, WHAT? Kendall's all, yeah, so, like, our plan was to intercept Marshall on his way home from LAX -- Syd cuts him off all, uh DUH. I know what the bloody plan was, okay? JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED.
Spy Daddy steps forward (oooh, Spy Daddy! I missed him!) and says, "The extraction team was about to move in when they saw this." He hits a button, and they all turn to watch Marshall's abduction on a monitor. Vaughn splutters, "We ran the plates on one of the SUVs. It was rented by Charles Williamson, we put his photo ID through a facial recognition database. It matched a known associate of Gerard Cuvee." Wow. Cuvee's men are about as brilliant as Syd with her big-ass mouth. Rented? These guys RENTED the SUVs? They couldn't, oh, I don't know, STEAL THEM? That would make so much more sense. Not to mention how it would totally confuse and distract the CIA. I mean, not that I'm suggesting that the CIA isn't already confused and distracted. Syd's all, uh, okay, does someone want to fill me in on what's being DONE about this? Spy Daddy's all, blah blah blah one team radiating out from the abduction point and blip blab bleah another team in London retracing his steps. "Our steps," snaps Syd. "The mission in London was my op, Marshall was my responsibility." Vaughn's all, yeah, right -- lest we forget that this is NOT all about YOU, before he was captured, Marshall emailed Cuvee's copy of the Echelon access program to SD-6. Syd's all, okay, WHUH? We took away Cuvee's Echelon access and GAVE IT TO THE BITCHES AT SD-6? That was SO not in the plan. Jack's all, bring it down a notch, Sister Mary Sunshine. When SD-6 downloaded the thing, there seemed to be a problemo.
Uncle Arvin's Office Of Over-the-Top Technical Treatises. As Jack just purses at him, Sloane literally goes on for about a half an hour about how Marshall's email was broken up into packets of data and blah blah blah'd to SD-6 via ISPs all around the world. Let's hope they didn't use AOL, because that shit is spam-o-licious. Sloane gibbers something about how there was a malfunction when Marshall sent the shit, and a bunch of data packets weren't transmitted. "Without them," he grimaces, "we cannot access Echelon."
Okay. What is Sergeant Somewhat Sane wearing? That tie looks like it's about to release itself from its knot, creep across the desk, and start slapping Jack around the face like an angry cobra with a personal vendetta. Oh, and a note on the Sloanemclature, okay? I ain't doing it anymore. Firstly, it just takes too goddamn long to come up with witty and bizarre names, and secondly, I think we're all now fully aware that Sloane's no longer crazy. Really. I think the second he went to the Alliance with the news that Auntie Em was potentially alive or that someone was trying to make him think that she was, he pretty much knocked that whole "Captain Crackers" image right out the window. And, like, I'm lazy. And it's Saturday. And this shit ain't done yet. So deal.