Sloane, looking dapper in his natty suit, says that Daniel Hecht has become aware of Sydney's job with the agency and that he must be destroyed. Well, not quite in those words, but basically. He then passes the file to -- DA DA DUM! -- Sydney's dad, who will henceforth be referred to as Spy Daddy. Spy Daddy says he understands, and that Sloane knows where his loyalty lies.
Airport. Dixon disembarks and is greeted by Josie and the SD6ers. He hands over the lipstick/camera. They ask where Sydney is. He says that she took a taxi, and looks suspicious at their interest.
Danny's apartment. The place has been tossed like a salad. Sydney walks in, looks aghast, then runs straight to the bathroom -- because, after discovering a break-in, most people feel an immediate need to pee -- and discovers Danny's body. Now, okay. Maybe this would've made sense if we'd seen from her POV that she'd spotted Danny in the bathroom. But we didn't. And it doesn't. Jennifer Garner tries to convey incredible pain and sorrow, but mostly she reminds me of the frustrated Cro-Magnons in Quest for Fire when they're, you know, questing for fire. She wails.
Sydney drives like a maniac to Credit Dauphine in her old-school Toyota LandCruiser. I hate SUVs in general, but I always liked the design of those things. She's covered in blood and mascara. Hey, that would be a good title for an autobiography, maybe of Tammy Faye!
Sydney marches in to Sloane's office and says in a poignant whisper, "What did you do?" Sloane says, "I might ask you the same question." He tells her that Security became aware of the breach and did what was required. He then points out that Sydney knew the codes of conduct and that they applied to her, even as she risked everyone's lives at SD6. And you know what, he's evil and all, but the man has a point. I mean, she's seen how they've worked now for seven years, and didn't she think for a minute about how dangerous it would be for both her and Danny to tell him what she really did for a living? Plus, Jennifer Garner is kind of a blank slate in this scene, and she doesn't transcend the thin material here to make me sympathize with her.
Manimal: I keep praying for a commercial break so I can pee.
BGCF: I keep praying for a commercial for Zoolander so I can stop watching this shit for thirty seconds.
Manimal: God, I really have to pee.
BGCF: You have the prostate of an eighty-year-old man. Girl, go pee! You're taping this, aren't you? You're acting as dumb as she is.