Previously on Alias: Whirly whirly whirly.

This recap is being brought to you by the Easter Bunny, English toffee, a nap, and a hangover provided by MY MOTHER. What? Oh, you mean other families don't celebrate the resurrection of their Lord and Savior by eating big plates of pasta and drinking the better part of a gallon of cheap wine and smoking Benson & Hedges Ultra Light 100s until two in the goddamn morning? Huh. Interesting.

We open at San Marcos Orphanage for Project Christmas Castoffs in Buenos Aires. The year is 1992 and the orphanage is chock full of sleeping girls. A swarthy dude in a black cap enters and clamps his hand over one of the girl's mouths. Then he pulls her from her bed and leads her toward the door. Little Nadia gets out of bed and flashes a light in the swarthy dude's face and orders him to let her friend go. He hisses at her to get back into bed. She's not giving up without a fight, however, so she launches herself at Swarthy Dude and it's pretty obvious that Nadia attended the Project Christmas Country Day School, because she can totally kick his ass. He's bigger than her, though, so ultimately he starts to smack her around.

She finally gets away and runs out of the room. And that's when Sonia Braga enters and she's like, dude? What the hell are you doing? And where's my Super-Special Spy Orphan? One of the little girls steps up and tells Sonia that Nadia saved someone's life and ran off. Sonia looks decidedly distressed by this information. But she doesn't look all that distressed when she sees Swarthy Dude heaving and bloody in the middle of a bunch of nightgown-clad girls. She just orders him into her office, where I imagine he is going to either be murdered with a stiletto or told to confine his girl-napping to the other wing of the orphanage. Yeah, I don't know WHAT he wanted the little girl for, but it's pretty clear that Sonia knows about it and is somehow sanctioning it. At least, that's what I think. AND ISN'T THAT ALL THAT MATTERS?

Cut to present day and Nadia running along a dirt track. You can't run from the past, Nadia! I've tried! And the damn IRS always catches up with you. Nadia heads home and greets her sister. This greeting apparently was delivered with a hidden plethora of tears and some silent dogs-can-hear-it-but-no one-else-can moaning, because Syd turns from her coffee and goes, "What's going on?" Syd has super mad spy skillz, yo. She can tell something's wrong with someone without them even saying anything. Nadia's all, uh, nothing, thanks. But I'd like some coffee. Syd's all, yeah, no, when something's bothering me, I go running and you? You've gone twice in twelve hours. So, pretty much, I'm thinking something's wrong. Cream and sugar? The phone rings and it's Vaughn. Nadia hands over the phone and then skips off without saying another word.

Syd meets up with Vaughn at an outdoor café somewhere. He shows her his father's journal. She's as baffled by the post-death entries as he is. "Either he didn't die when the CIA says he did, which they may or may not know the truth about, or someone wants me to think he's still alive," Vaughn surmises. He tells her about meeting Murdoch and the famous back-shooting mission of 1982. Vaughn doesn't know what to believe. Syd, without hesitating, offers her help. Vaughn says that there are names of classified missions listed in Bill's journal and he wants to get details on those missions. So he needs access to all operational files at Langley, and he can't put the request in himself because, if this whole thing is being orchestrated from within, it wouldn't be a good idea to have his name stamped all over the "Hey, Can You Tell Me If My Dad's Not Dead" paperwork. Syd's just like, "Yep. I can handle that for you." Vaughn's all, are you sure, dude? Syd just looks at him and says, "Vaughn." And that's all she has to say, really. But she adds, "If your father is alive, we'll find him. And if he's not, we will find the person who's doing this." Aw. She's such a good girlfriend. I'd never do something like that for one of my boyfriends. I'm more of a surprising him at the door wearing a pair of frilly panties and holding a pitcher of beer kind of girlfriend.

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