Marshall has constructed his Sydtracker 2000 and is en route to her location. Jack calls and asks Marshall for an update. "It's really hot here and everyone keeps calling me chongo," Marshall responds, not having mastered the art of knowing when is a time to crack jokes and when totally isn't. Quick lesson for you, Marshall: a guy's daughter isn't dying? Crack jokes freely! Guy's daughter is dying? Don't crack jokes. Jack angrily asks Marshall for his location again, and Marshall reports that he's close to Syd. Jack pauses, then says they "don't have much time." Marshall starts yelling at his cab driver to turn right, but the guy ignores him. Marshall screams at him in Spanish a couple times, and the driver finally obliges him. We've gone from America's Next Top Model to The Amazing Race.
Back in the command room, Vaughn rubs his large forehead and tells Syd that Marshall is on his way, not really knowing what kind of an answer to expect from her. "We'll be dancing before you know it," he says. Syd asks if her feet will touch the ground, but her phone cuts out. It says "weak signal," so I'm not sure if her battery ran out or Cuba finally realized that having such awesome cell phone reception kind of contrasts with the classic cars and antique radios.
Marshall has made it to the cemetery. He reports that he just has to find out which grave Sydney is in. He runs.
Vaughn talks to Sydney. Unfortunately, we see a screenshot of her phone that says she has both a weak signal AND low battery.
With no radio frequency to track, the Sydtracker 2000 makes R2-D2 noises and fades out. "No!" Marshall says.
"Goodbye," Syd's phone politely says, and shuts down. Black. "Eep!" says Syd. Seriously.
Back from commercial, Marshall has looked around the cemetery and found seven fresh graves. Vaughn says he doesn't have time to dig them all up. Not to mention how unpleasant it would be to dig up the wrong one. Marshall looks up at sky and has an idea. As Marshall grabs a shovel he finds lying around the cemetery, Vaughn sits in front of a computer and calls up some satellite data. Marshall orders him to enter a code, but Vaughn protests that there's no prompt. "The prompt's implied!" says Marshall. "I'm supposed to just type it in?" Vaughn asks. "Yes! God, Vaughn, this is not hard!" snaps Marshall. Oh, burn on you, Vaughn! Finally, Vaughn gets the satellite visual. Marshall has him change the satellite view to a thermal one, which will detect body heat. And right now, the only body heat in that cemetery is coming from Marshall and Syd. Vaughn directs Marshall to move north. Marshall dashes away. "Your other north," says Vaughn. Now I'm having elementary school flashbacks. Marshall runs the other way. The little heat-filled Marshall satellite figure does as well.