Vaughn tells her that five figures have been picked up by satellite inside the building. Syd says something about her mother and Sloane possibly being inside that building. Vaughn's all, yeah, I know. Oh, and they probably won't surrender, you know? So, like, this time? YOU'LL ACTUALLY HAVE TO NOT MISS YOUR MOTHER WITH YOUR BULLETS. Syd's all, yeah, whatever. You're cute when you're reprimanding me on my shooting non-ability. Then Vaughn gets even cuter when he says, "Not that I'm huge fan of you disobeying the CIA but that was pretty good...the way you got away..." He gives her this huge grin. Good holy Mary on a pontoon, Michael Vartan is gorgeous.
Satan Sloane's Silo Of Secrecy. Sloane's torturing himself by watching the footage of his wife's demise. He does a little computer work and discovers that it was, indeed, Dixon who shot Auntie Em. Agent Avenger slams his hand down on the desk and picks up the phone. "Yeah, it's me," he says. "I need you to do something else for me." We don't see who he's talking to, but we can only imagine that it's Francinator and he's pretty much going to tell her to drop Dixon like a two-dollar whore with herpes.
Wow. I really should stop watching Harvey Keitel films before I go to bed at night. I blame Owen. He has a sick thing for really bad cop movies, and Bad Lieutenant may very well be the WORST.
At the same time, Slater's back at his desk, working at the computer, his wounded leg chained to a pole. Sarkie's sitting across from him, reading the latest Lenore compilation. Slater's trying to buy some time or something, because he starts messing with Sark; guessing his age, asking him why he's working for a guy like Sloane. "What do you expect to get out of all of this?" asks Slater. Sark drops the comic and leans forward. "I was sent to school in England at a very young age," he says. "Out of necessity, one becomes self-reliant and perhaps prematurely ambitious. I'm like anyone, [Slater]. What I want is that which I never had." Okay, that tells us SO much about you, Sark. Thanks for that exercise in futility.
"You're gonna kill me, aren't you?" Slater wisely surmises. "You wouldn't have shared any of that stuff with me if you expected me to live." Sark just smirks at him and suggests that he get back to work. At the same time, Syd and Vaughn race across the roof of the building. And we're running and we're running. Once inside, there's more running. Once again, Syd has neglected to pull her hair back for this little mission, so it's just out there, flying in the wind.