"Yeah," Sloane says defeatedly into the phone. A vocodered voice at the other end replies, "Romantic touch, don't you think? Your wife's ring finger. And by now, your lab's concluded that despite your best efforts, you didn't kill Emily. And now I have her." "What do you mean?" Sloane snips. "One hundred million in bearer bonds," says the voice. "This is about money?" Sloane hisses. "Everything is about money," the voice replies. Drop details have been emailed to Sloane, who has twenty-four hours to respond: "Fail to deliver the bonds, and the next delivery will go to the Alliance." Sloane looks like he's going to cy. He stares real hard.
Back in India, the Bristows walk very carefully through a minefield, Irina leading the way. Sydney asks where the PRF got all the mines. Irina executes the trademark Lady Bristow hair tuck and replies, "You Americans have the worst inventory controls in the world." The Bristows continue tiptoeing through the exploding tulips as Irina politely asks, "So, Sydney, how's school?" She's still in school? (I know she's still in school; I was just pretending I was on the Alias writing staff.) Sydney says, "I'm writing my dissertation...supposedly." Jack stops dead -- presumably to deliver a stinging rant on what he's been writing all those cheques for if Sydney can't even be arsed to do her homework or go to class -- and instructs Sydney and Irina to be quiet. He looks around at the trees, out of which suddenly pop several guerrillas, who open fire. Irina quickly instructs Sydney and Jack as to where to take cover without treading on any mines, and Jack and Sydney start shooting. The guerrillas rudely shoot back. "I need a gun, Jack," Irina begs. Jack glances at her briefly, but doesn't tarry long in thinking it over before tossing her the one slung over his shoulder. As he throws, a guerrilla shoots Jack in the chest, and he falls back. Sydney and Irina keep shooting, and easily take care of all their opponents. Jack struggles to sit up, but Irina commands, "Don't move!" Sydney and Jack snap to look at her, and she adds, "You're on a mine." Cut back to Jack's face, as we all get an idea of what Victor Garber might look like if he shat his pants.
Irina moves toward Jack. Sydney heedlessly makes to follow, but Irina stops her, telling her how many steps to take and in which directions in order to avoid mines and reach Jack. Sydney asks whether Jack is hurt, but he obviously isn't; the bullet hit his vest. Irina and Sydney, kneeling beside him, very gingerly dig with their hands to uncover the mine Jack is on. Jack sweats. Irina identifies the mine type, and says they need to pry off the panel and remove the blasting cap. We zoom in on Sydney's hand as she tries to pry off the panel with her nails, and considering that in the past thirty-six hours or so, she has flown on a cargo plane, driven through the Indian countryside in a convertible Jeep, and been shot at twice, she certainly has a perfect manicure. Sydney successfully pries off the cap. Jack frantically tells her she needs to cut the detonator cord that leads to the blasting cap. Sydney pulls out a pocket knife, but Irina stops her: "Her knife's not coated. If she cuts the wires with metal, she'll complete the circuit and set it off. I can do it." Sydney and Jack hold their breath as Irina reaches in and extracts the blasting cap with her fingernails. Danger thus averted, Sydney and Jack practically hyperventilate with relief. Jack sits up, his pants squooshing only slightly around their payload of terror shit. Irina points, saying that the entrance to the sewer tunnel is just over a nearby hill, and that they should hurry. "Follow closely," she adds. Sydney and Jack don't have to be told twice.