Previously on Alias: The previouslys take up half the damn episode, so in the interest of time, let's just cut to the chase, shall we? Syd stabbed Vaughn. Vaughn fall down and go boom. And there's no "Ten Things" list today because the only thing I learned during this episode was that Justin Theroux is hot, even when dead. And if you notice even more crabbiness than usual from your recapper, that's because my lower back is totally out of alignment and in spasms, my chiropractor did NOT recommend massage, I'm still out one imaginary boyfriend, and because I'm on painkillers at the moment, I CAN'T DRINK. Oh, fuck that. Julio! A quart of our finest vodka and a straw! Mommy can't fly without wings.
We open up on a placard that reads, "THREE HOURS LATER." We quickly switch to Syd, running pell-mell down a supposedly Spanish street. She gets to a pay phone and gives her agent info. She's patched through to Spy Daddy, who asks where she is. Um, shouldn't he KNOW where she is? Hello? Mission, anyone? Syd tells Jack that he has to activate the tracker right now, because she stuck it to Vaughn. Jack's all, um, honey? You were supposed to stick it to the virus, not your ex-boytoy. Syd's all, HE'S BLEEDING TO DEATH. Jack puts Marshall on the job.
While Marshall's working on it, Syd fills her dad in on what happened to both Vaughn and the biological weapons. She stabbed Vaughn (duh) and the biological weapons are in Soymoan's room. He and the boys went off somewhere to celebrate. Awfully premature of them, isn't it? I mean, only three hours have passed, right? Hardly time to pop the corks, if you ask me. Syd declares that she's going to break into Soymoan's room while they're gone and steal back the biological weapons. Oh, by the way, the term "biological weapons" is used approximately 14,988 times during this episode. Get used to it. We're only up to two, as far as I've counted.
Syd hangs up on her dad after he states that Vaughn will be saved. Then we switch over to some industrial alley somewhere as a van pulls up. Sark's waiting. Oh, yum. He's all in black. Goodness, he's a slender slice of tender beefcake. Soymoan and Chavez y Chavez exit the van and make their way over to Sark. Soymoan's all, what's all the rush then? Sark's all, timetable's moved up. That's all you need to know, muffin. Sark turns around to open his briefcase, and I swear to GOD Soymoan's looking at his ass. HoYay, anyone?
Sark opens his briefcase, and we get a glimpse of a couple of crisp foreign dollars flapping blithely over large stacks of white paper. Yeah, I'm gonna go with this being a glitch in the filming and not Sark trying to screw Soymoan out of his payment. Because Sark's just honorable that way, idn't he? Soymoan steps up and smiles at the money. "Now look at that," he says in his delightfully smarmy Cockney accent. "What's more beautiful than that?" Well, I can think of two more beautiful things, but you can't really spend David Anders or Justin Theroux at the duty-free, now can you?
Sark, after looking like he's contemplating either licking the side of Soymoan's face or just beating it with a stick, goes, "Perhaps what it pays for." At first, I was all, "What, Sevillian hookers and some blow?" But then I realized he was talking about the biological weapons. Soymoan just hands Sark a bottle of scotch. Sark kind of glares at Soymoan, then slugs back a nice notch. "Excellent," he sneers. Soymoan giggles. "Biological weapons, please," says Sark calmly. Was I kidding about the 284,551 times this phrase is mentioned? Was I? I mean, really. JUST ASK FOR "THE PACKAGE" AND BE DONE WITH IT.