Will takes a seat and snarks to the stiffs that he'll get them that web address. "You should check it out," he says helpfully. Syd just beams. The stiffs kind of check the floor for the small fortune they wasted on their high-profile Haaaavaaaad educations. Kendall starts shuffling papers and orders Vaughn and Syd to get the hell down to Mexico.
Unfortunately, at that very same moment, we discover that Fancy Fez has chosen Sloane's target. And, yes, it's his ex-wife. Syd and Vaughn better get a move on. Sloane's on the phone with Sark, and Sark's rather confused at the target choice. Sloane gets snippy with Sark and orders him down to Mexico City. Sark's all, why don't YOU haul your hairy gray ass down to Mexico City, huh? I'm not your fucking ERRAND BOY! Or he just hangs up the phone and stares at the picture of Mrs. Fez.
Mexico City. Town of Aztec art and kick-ass street vendor tacos. Seriously. Yum. We're hanging with Mr. Sark as he kicks it old school in a plain black van outside the Vatican Embassy. His phone rings and he answers it, informing his boss that surveillance confirms Mrs. Fez is in the administrative wing of the embassy. As he talks, he goes back and takes a look at the neutron bomb. It actually resembles a piece of really bad flea market art or something. Like a lamp from the sixties without a bulb. Or a shade. Sark blathers something about how he'll need twenty million watts to reach the admin section of the building. "Twenty percent of its capacity," smirks Sloane. That oughta do it, says Sarkie. But, like, dude? If Slater's calculations are off by even a microtesla, this whole thing could go really, REALLY bad. Sloane's all, shut up, you whiner. Do it. Sark's all, oh, look who's all gung-ho about neutron-bombing a fucking CHURCH. Easy for you to be all Captain Commando, dickweed -- you're eight thousand miles away! Sloane's all, click. Jesus. If I were Sark, I'd be pointing that neutron bomb over in Sloane's direction. He is SO unappreciative of Sark's hard work. And hard abs. And hard -- ahem. Excuse me.
Sark contemplates telling Sloane to go fuck himself, but decides to start the countdown on the bomb instead. He exits the van as Sydney approaches the steps of the church in a truly frightening old lady disguise. It looks like her face is melting. It's not pretty. Which, I guess, is the point. Syd tells Vaughn that she's inside and he tells her that Mrs. Fez is on the first floor.
Syd makes her way to Mrs. Fez, and we check in with the neutron bomb, which is resolutely counting down. Back with Syd, she finds Mrs. Fez and tells her that they need to talk. Before Mrs. Fez can call security, Syd tells her that she knows she's worried about retribution and that's why no one will ever know they even had this conversation. Blah blah blah, tell me where your ex is.