(A bar)

RENÉE: It’s no accident you found me here. The people who k*lled Vaughn – they own this place. There’s an operation center in the back. I haven’t gotten in yet, but judging the way that man over there is looking at us, you just blew my cover. You should go. Walk out, slowly.

SYDNEY: What about you?

RENÉE: I didn’t spend three months getting in the place to just walk away. We can access their servers. That might give me a window into their operation. I’m going there.

SYDNEY: I’m coming with you.

Renée pulls out a g*n and covers it with a dish towel. The two walk into another room in the club and run into a man guarding a door.

MAN: You know the rules. You’re not supposed to be back here.

RENÉE: You’re gonna want to step aside now.

MAN: Sexy. So I’m bein’ thr*at by a waif and a pregnant chick.

RENÉE: (punches him, twisting his arm around his back and pinning him against the wall) Feeling sexy now?

Sydney takes the man’s hand and places it on the biometric scanner to open the door.

RENÉE: Get up. 

Renée positions the man in front of the door as the door is opening, sh**ting through him to k*ll a man inside the room. One person pushes an alarm button. Renée sh**t the other people in the room and accesses a computer. The screens read DATA DESTRUCTION IN PROGRESS and DELETING FILES.

SYDNEY: The data’s being destroyed. (types into the keyboard) I can’t stop it.

RENÉE: Me, neither. (sh**t a man who enters the room) It’s no use. We better go.

They start to leave the room when Sydney spots a surveillance camera.

SYDNEY: Wait.

RENÉE: What is it?

Sydney follows the wires to a computer hidden inside a cabinet. She yanks out the hard drive. 

SYDNEY: We got it.

They exit the bar.

SYDNEY: Doesn’t look like it’s been fried. The data should still be intact.

RENÉE: Probably encrypted. (pulls off wig)

SYDNEY: It won’t be a problem. I don’t know if Vaughn ever mentioned, but I work with a genius. He’ll be able to crack the encryption. I’ll upload it for you. Here, take this. It’s a secure line. Dial 9. Wait for the tone, dial 8-1-6…

RENÉE: You’re not bringing this back to the CIA…

SYDNEY: No, we’re an off-the-books division. It’s different.

RENÉE: Not to me. I don’t know them.

SYDNEY: I do. You can trust them.

RENÉE: Who says I trust you?

SYDNEY: (sighs) Good point.

RENÉE: What did Michael tell you about me?

SYDNEY: Not that much. Just that… you’ve been working with him for years and you were the one who told him about Prophet Five. I understand why you’re reluctant. I mean, you’re Number 8 on the CIA’s Most Wanted List. I get it. But you have to understand, these people k*lled my fiancé, the father of my child. I’m gonna enlist every resource available to immobilize them. And if that means that this is the last time you and I see each other, that is fine by me. Just tell me how you wanna do it. 

RENÉE: Number 8… 

SYDNEY: Yes.

RENÉE: I’m slipping. I used to be Number 6. (pauses) You’re exactly like Michael said you were. Fine. Do it your way. Give me the phone.

SYDNEY: You called him ‘Michael.’

RENÉE: Yeah. (turns and leaves) Don’t worry. He was crazy about you.

(Doctor’s Office)

DOCTOR: How’ve you been feeling?

SYDNEY: Oh. Good. The morning sickness is gone, and my energy’s back, so…

DOCTOR: Right on schedule. That’s normal for the second trimester. How was your trip? London, right? Do any shopping? 

SYDNEY: It was more of a business trip, actually. I had to meet with one of my fiancé’s old friends. 

DOCTOR: What about exercise. Are you keeping active?

SYDNEY: My job is still... pretty demanding.

DOCTOR: That’s great. Doctors used to tell women to stay off their feet. You’re pregnant, you’re not sick. As long as you feel comfortable, you just keep doing what you’re doing. Let’s take a look, shall we? Should I ask the nurse to bring in anyone from the waiting room?

SYDNEY: No. I – I came alone.

DOCTOR: You know, Sydney, I see a lot of new moms, and one thing I can tell you from experience, it’s really important to be able to reach out, ask for help.

SYDNEY: I’ve never really been good at that.

DOCTOR: You should try. Okay, let’s see how we’re doing. And there we go. That’s your baby. That’s the head, the spine, and that pulse…

SYDNEY: Look at its little heart.

DOCTOR: Mm-hmm. You’ve got an active one there. Just like Mommy. Everything looks great. (takes printout of ultrasound and hands it to Sydney) And I’ll see you in a few weeks.

Sydney gets into the car and puts the key in the ignition. She sits back and picks up the ultrasound and looks at it again. She sighs.

ALIAS INTRO: ADHD Edition

(APO)

JACK: This is the man that k*lled Vaughn. His name is Ivan Curtis. He ran operations for a corporate security firm out of Dublin, until three years ago -- when European aviation records say he died in a private plane crash.

DIXON: Well, it’s starting to fit a pattern – Gordon Dean was presumed d*ad two years ago, both of the men who we know were involved…

JACK: From what we’ve learned, their operation has been in place thirty years without being detected. Whoever these people are, they must have access to high-level resources. I’m leaving tonight for Washington. Ahern has some names for me to consider.

DIXON: Do you still think that’s a good idea – bringing in a new agent now, someone we don’t know?

JACK: We’re down a man, and I trust Ahern’s recommendation without reservation. In the meantime, Curtis has been in London. Have Marshall run a facial profile so we can run him against their surveillance networks.

WEISS: So Sydney said she got this footage from a contact. What do we know about this person?

JACK: She didn’t say.

(Sydney's House)

Sydney is working on her computer and notices something. She calls someone on the phone.

(Cut to a cell phone ringing with rock music. Marshall is in bed and answers the phone.)

MARSHALL: Yeah. Hello?

SYDNEY: It’s me. I’ve been going over the footage from London. I think I found something.

MARSHALL: Mmm. I’d love to, baby, but I’m married.

SYDNEY: Oh – Marshall. Wake up. Marshall.

MARSHALL: I’m up, I’m up. Sorry. Uh… Syd?

SYDNEY: I need you to pull up the surveillance footage from London.

Marshall. Okay. Uh, gimme a sec.

Marshall gets up, tripping over toys in the hallway on his way to his home office.

MARSHALL: You been at this all night?

SYDNEY: Are you looking at the footage?

MARSHALL: Hold on. Gimme just a sec. (pulls up the video on his screen)

MARSHALL: Okay. Now I’m in. What am I looking for?

SYDNEY: Time index 12-40. Curtis is dialing a number. Can you enhance it?

MARSHALL: See what I can do. (zooms in on the cell phone) That looks like a 4. (picks up a MagnaDoodle to take down the number) That looks like a 3… no, might be a 5. You know what? I’ll run it against the Echelon call archive. I’ll use the 5. (finds the number on his computer) Got the audio. Patching it through.

Sydney and Marshall listen to a man and woman having a conversation in Dutch.

SYDNEY: They’re ordering takeout, Marshall.

MARSHALL: Right. Sorry, must be the 3. Alright. Got audio. Patching it through.

Man: Hello?

Curtis: Any news on my package?

Man: Not yet. I am still working on it.

Curtis: I’m growing impatient. If this becoming a problem for you…

Man: I haven’t disappointed you yet, have I? Twenty-five more kilos. I’ll have it for you.

Curtis: Fine. I’ll be there to pick it up. Don’t let me down. 

MARSHALL: Looks like we got our guy.

SYDNEY: Who was Curtis talking to? Can you run a trace?

MARSHALL: Yeah, um - (turns to see Carrie comes into the room) Uh, actually, it’s not just the server, Bob. You have to run a diagnostic on your entire network.

SYDNEY: What?

MARSHALL: Can you hold on one sec? (turns to Carrie)

CARRIE: Who’s Bob? I’ve never heard you mention Bob.

MARSHALL: Bob? But you know Bob. He works in the corner, uh, he brings in the dark roast... coffee. 

Carrie looks dubious.

MARSHALL: I’m not having an affair.

CARRIE: I know you’re not having an affair. I just don’t want you to wake Mitchell.

MARSHALL: Oh. Okay.

CARRIE: Okay. (leaves)

MARSHALL: You uh, you think she believed me, right?

SYDNEY: Yeah, Marshall, I think you’re okay.

MARSHALL: I’ll run a trace on that call.

SYDNEY: O-kay.

MARSHALL: (pulls up the number) It belongs to a Heinrich… Roemer. Where do I know that name from?

(Prison)

Sydney walks up to a cell. Sloane is working at a desk when he notices someone standing there. It's Sydney. He walks over to the bars and looks her over.

SLOANE: You’re beautiful. 

Sydney doesn't respond.

SLOANE: Your father… he told me about Vaughn. You have my condolences. He was a good man. What you must be going through.

SYDNEY: (shakes head slightly) One of the men responsible, Ivan Curtis – he’s been in contact with an arms dealer, Heinrich Roemer. According to SD-6 files, you worked with him.

SLOANE: Yes. He supplied arms to several SD cells.

SYDNEY: Curtis is planning a meet with Roemer. We don’t know when. We need to locate Roemer’s base of operations, get inside, wire it with cameras.

SLOANE: So you can monitor him and wait for Curtis to make contact. I understand. This is you first lead, isn’t it, Sydney? 

Sydney doesn't admit it, but it is obvious.

SLOANE: Look. I know how important this is to you, but revenge is ultimately a hollow pursuit, Sydney.

SYDNEY: This isn’t about revenge. They know who I am, they know where I work, and as long as they are out there, I am not safe. 

SLOANE: Okay.

(Amsterdam)

SLOANE: (voiceover) Roemer operates out of Amsterdam. Tactical entry is out of the question. Roemer is paranoid about security. You’ll have to go in posing as buyers. There’s a vending machine on Ballister, near Amstel. Enter the sequence 5-1-0-9-4. Shortly thereafter, you will be contacted. Then all you need are the proper bona fides.

WEISS: (speaking Dutch into pay phone) 4-3-9 (?)

Weiss opens a car door for Dixon, who steps out. They have arrived at Roemer’s base of operations. 

SLOANE: (voiceover) Roemer’s security system is capable of detecting bugs. Your best option is to piggy back off his closed-circuit feeds.

Weiss and Dixon are patted down by a guard on their way in.

DIXON: (African accent) Right jacket pocket. (The guard finds a g*n in the pocket) Keep it. Small gift.

GUARD: (takes g*n) Follow me.

Sydney monitors their entry.

SYDNEY: (comms) Okay. I’m ready to hack into their surveillance system. You’ll just need to direct an RF pulse from your wristwatch for each interior camera.

Weiss and Dixon arrive in Roemer’s office.

ROEMER: Gentlemen. Welcome. Heinrich Roemer.

DIXON: Jalin Khamisi. It’s my pleasure. (takes off sunglasses and holds them up)

WEISS: (pauses, then remembers his role) Oh. Sorry. (takes Dixon’s g*n)

DIXON: My business manager Isaac Malcolm.

ROEMER: Have a seat. So. Who do I have to thank for your business?

DIXON: A mutual friend, Jean Briault. We worked together in Montreal. He spoke highly of you.

ROEMER: Jean Briault. I haven’t heard that name in years. He was a good man. It is a pity what happened. 

Dixon is silent. Roemer shifts uncomfortably.

ROEMER: Well, what can I do for you?

Weiss hands him the order.

ROEMER: "3,000 Kalashnikov r*fles, 75-man portable shoulder-fired stinger m*ssile, M77 anti-personnel mines." What exactly would you do with a purchase this large?

DIXON: I intend to secure some beachfront property.

Roemer begins to laugh, but stops when met with stony silence from Dixon.

ROEMER: An order this size – it won’t be easy. I couldn’t do it for less than, say, 5 million dollars. 

Dixon nods to Weiss.

WEISS: Uh, Mr. Khamisi will forward an additional 20% if you can complete delivery by… Friday.

Dixon: Oh, God. Oh!

Weiss has squirted his pen on the sleeve of Dixon’s jacket.

WEISS: Ah. I’m so sorry, Mr. Khamisi. I’m sorry. (starts rubbing vigorously on Dixon’s sleeve)

DIXON: It’s no matter.

WEISS: No, it is, and it’s my fault (continues rubbing)

Dixon yanks his arm away from Weiss and turns to Roemer.

DIXON: Do you have some place I can clean up?

ROEMER: (speaks Dutch to guard, then to Dixon) He’ll show you the way.

DIXON: Thank you. 

Dixon looks icily at Weiss and leaves, activating the RF pulse with his wristwatch on the camera on his way out. Sydney monitors the closed circuit feed.

SYD: (comms) Outrigger, Camera One is up. Connection is solid.

Dixon pulses another camera in the hallway on the way to the bathroom.

SYDNEY: (comms) Camera Two is online.

Dixon goes into a restroom.

DIXON: How are the video signals?

SYDNEY: Good. (monitoring video) Outrigger, we’ve got company. It’s Curtis. He’s here. You gotta move now.

DIXON. No. I know what you’re thinking. Hold your position.

Curtis walks in with two of his men and one of Roemer’s guards.

GUARD: Mr. Roemer wasn’t expecting you until tonight.

CURTIS: Plans change. I took an earlier flight. I assume that won’t be a problem.

GUARD: Of course not. I’ll let him know you’re here. (speaks Dutch to another of Roemer’s men)

(Back in Roemer’s office)

ROEMER: I take payment via wire. Currency is too easy to counterfeit.

WEISS: Of course.

One of Roemer’s guards walks in.

GUARD: Curtis.

ROEMER: Yeah. (to Weiss) If you’ll excuse me, just a small matter I need to attend to. Please make sure our guest is comfortable. 

Roemer leaves to meet with Curtis in a conference room.

ROEMER: Mr. Curtis, good to see you. 

CURTIS: Where’s my package?

ROEMER: Well, your item just arrived today. (shows case) Twenty-five kilos of nuridium, as promised. Which leaves us just a matter of the payment. (hands PDA to Curtis)

CURTIS: Sure thing. (enters information into PDA and hands it back to Roemer)

ROEMER: Thank you.

Curtis picks up the case and his men f*re on Roemer and his guard. Hearing g*n, the guard with Weiss reaches for his g*n. Weiss struggles with the guard.

SYDNEY: (comms) Weiss is in trouble.

DIXON: I’m on it.

Weiss is about to get skewered when Dixon comes up behind the guard and knocks him out. 

WEISS: (sighs) Thanks.

DIXON: Come on. We gotta go.

Sydney sees Curtis leaving with the nuridium. She goes after him. Curtis and one of his men approach an SUV to make their getaway. Curtis gets into the back seat.

SYDNEY: (appears next to Curtis in the back seat and points a g*n at him) Need a ride?

Dixon twists the neck of Curtis’ guard. Curtis considers the situation he is in.

(A warehouse)

Curtis is thrown down to the floor of a room. Dixon puts Curtis into a chair and straps his arms down.

CURTIS: Augh! Would you take it easy?

DIXON: Shut up.

Sydney and Weiss walk into another room of the warehouse. 

WEISS: Hey, listen, Syd – Dixon and I can handle this….

SYD: No. I’m gonna talk to him.

WEISS: (quietly) All right, fine. I’ll be here if you need me.

Sydney walks into the room where Roemer is being held.

SYDNEY: (to Dixon) Can we have a minute?

Dixon steps out and closes the door.

SYDNEY: (stares at Curtis) Do you recognize me?

CURTIS: (smirking) No.

SYDNEY: Four months ago, you m*rder a man – Michael Vaughn. Do you remember? I do. I was there. It’ll be b*rned into memory for the rest of my life as the day my child lost its father -- so you can imagine what I’d like to do to you. Lucky for you, there’s someone I want even more. Tell me where I can find Gordon Dean?

CURTIS: Is this whole routine supposed to scare me? I – I do this for a living.

SYDNEY: It’s a funny thing about pregnancy – hormones. Whew. I woke up today… feeling pretty hormonal. I’m gonna give you another chance. Where’s Gordon Dean?

Curtis shakes his head and smirks. Sydney smacks him upside the head.

(APO)

MARSHALL: (on phone with Dixon) Nuridium? That’s some pretty nasty stuff, that’s for sure. Uh, all right. Go ahead. Give me the lot number.

DIXON: 6-6-4-R-T-4-5-6-9.

MARSHALL: Yeah, NASA’s been experimenting with nuridium as a long-term power source for deep space probes. Problem is, it’s inherently unstable. It’s most easily suited as a high-yield expl*sive. You know, I’m talkin’ Megaton here. Some big bang, kinda crazy, bad ass stuff. Heh. Wait a minute. RT4569? 

DIXON: Yeah.

MARSHALL: Are you sure? 

DIXON: Yes, Marshall.

MARSHALL: Uh-oh.

(Warehouse)

CURTIS: You have no idea what you’re getting involved in.

SYDNEY: Why don’t you enlighten me?

CURTIS: You wanna know the truth? The truth is you’re better off not knowing.

DIXON: (opens door) We need to talk.

Sydney follows Dixon into the other room.

DIXON: Six canisters of nuridium disappeared from a Russian processing plant last month, from the same lot as the one we just recovered.

WEISS: The phone call between Curtis and Roemer – they talked about the rest of the shipment. We think that Curtis already has the canisters. (sighs) Our options here are limited, Syd. But we think if we let them go, there’s a really good chance that he’ll lead us to the rest of the nuridium.

SYDNEY: You want to let him go.

DIXON: We’ll make him believe he’s escaped.

SYDNEY: No. We can’t risk losing him.

DIXON: The risk will be minimal –

SYDNEY: We just need more time to break him.

DIXON: We don’t have more time. With that much nuridium, we may be looking at Hiroshima times 50.

SYDNEY: We’re talking about releasing the man who k*lled Vaughn.

Dixon, Weiss, and Sydney go back into the room where Curtis is being held. Dixon unties one of Curtis’ arm restraints.

DIXON: Water? (hands Curtis a bottle of water)

CURTIS: Thank you. (drinks from bottle)

DIXON: We know about the nuridium.

CURTIS: I see.

DIXON: Possession of nuridium is considered an act of terrorism, based on which we can lock you away indefinitely. No formal charges, no trial. But right now that does neither of us any good. Tell us where the rest of the nuridium is, what you intend to do with it, and we’ll cut you a deal. 

CURTIS: Uh-huh. I want immunity. From everything – the nuridium and k*lling Michael Vaughn. You’d do it, wouldn’t you? You’d have to. Mm, well, I’ll save you the trouble. No deal. I’m not talking. (hands Dixon the bottle of water) Sorry, baby. Daddy just went snooping where he shouldn’t have gone.

Sydney angrily kicks him through the window, where he falls down to a body of water below.

WEISS: Did he drink enough?

DIXON: (checks the amount of water remaining in the bottle) Yeah. I’d say we’ve got about two hours before the tracking serum enters his bloodstream.

WEISS: All right. I’ll set up the scanner.

(Washington, D.C.)

Jack is seated at a table at an outdoor cafe, reading the newspaper and drinking a cup of coffee.

AHERN: That stuff will poison you, you know. 

Jack sets his cup of coffee down.

AHERN: Liberal rag.

Jack drops his newspaper and looks annoyed.

AHERN: Coffee’s not too good for you either.

Jack smiles.

AHERN: I think I found your man. Outsider, like you asked – but fully documented. No family, no entanglements. Just off a four-year tour with Special Ops. (hands file to Jack)

Jack looks it over, flips to the second page and notices something. He looks up at Ahern, concerned. 

AHERN: (nods) I know. I assume you can deal with that.

Jack nods.

AHERN: They say he also has a bit of a temper.

(A bar)

A man in a suit punches a guy, knocking him down. He then picks the guy up, pins him against the wall. He glares at the guy while catching his breath, as if he were about to say something.

GUY: Seriously, something has to be done about your breath.

SUIT: Oh yeah? How about this?

The man in the suit strikes the guy across the face, sending him crashing into a table and onto the floor.

SUIT: Jackass.

The guy rolls over onto his back. Someone walks up and stands over him. It’s Jack.

JACK: Thomas Grace?

GRACE: Who wants to know?

JACK: Let’s take a walk.

(Warehouse)

WEISS: Did you know that we have astronaut ice cream here? The Neapolitan is a little nasty, but apparently, it lasts for centuries. (sits down next to Sydney, who is working on the computer) Still nothing?

SYDNEY: Nothing.

WEISS: You know, how quickly the isotope is absorbed depends on this guy’s metabolism.

SYDNEY: It’s been two-and-a-half hours.

WEISS: It’s gonna h*t, Syd. Trust me. (pauses) All right. You know what? I can’t wait with this any longer. I’ve been offered a promotion to coordinate the covert ops for the NSC. And I’ve known about it for about a week. I asked your father not to tell you 'cause I wanted to tell you myself, but there hasn’t really been a great time –

SYDNEY: Wait a minute. In D.C.? 

WEISS: Yeah. Steps away from the President.

SYDNEY: Well, that’s great. (nods) That’s good news. (looks sad) I’m gonna miss you. But I – I’m really, really happy for you.

WEISS: I can’t do it.

SYDNEY: Weiss…

WEISS: No, I can’t do it. Come on, Syd. Vaughn, Nadia… I mean, to leave now, it just doesn’t seem right.

SYDNEY: Wait, listen to what you’re saying. Steps away from the President. 

WEISS: Oh, I know.

SYDNEY: You can’t say no to that.

The computer beeps, initializing the signal from Curtis.

WEISS: Okay, we got a signal on Curtis.

DIXON: Where is he?

SYDNEY: I can’t tell. It’s not pinpointing.

DIXON: That’s because he’s not on the ground.

(A bar)

Rachel Gibson is out with some friends.

BALD GUY: All right. During the Vernal Equinox, you can actually balance an egg on its end.

RACHEL: No, you can’t. It’s a myth.

BALD GUY: No, it’s not. Listen, it has something to do with the Earth’s axis and the alignment of the Sun. Trust me. I Googled it.

Rachel’s cell phone rings.

RACHEL: Yeah, okay, just like water swirls the other way in toilets in Australia?

BALD GUY: It does!

RACHEL: (answers phone) Hello? (to her friends) Guys, I’m gonna take this. I’ll be right back. (walks away from the table) Mr. Curtis, what can I do for you?

CURTIS: Let Dean know we’re on our way. We’ve got the device on board, but I’m going to need the analysts team to meet me at the airport. [CC: “meet us at the airfield.”]

RACHEL: Of course.

CURTIS: We’re 200 miles out. Right on schedule. (disconnects call)

A sh*t of his plane is flying in the air. We see a box, presumably the device to which Curtis was referring.

(Washington, D.C.)

Jack is walking down the street, talking on his cell phone.

JACK: At 1700 hours, Ivan Curtis boarded a private jet. Marshall pulled the cargo manifest from Schiphol. Curtis loaded several oversized containers onto the plane.

DIXON: He’s transporting the w*apon.

JACK: The flight plan indicates their final destination is PyongYang. The flight was granted diplomatic immunity.

DIXON: Diplomatic immunity? How’s that possible?

JACK: We’re still exploring that.

WEISS: We can’t just let these guys fly to North Korea. There’s got to be something we can do.

SYDNEY: Maybe there is.

(B-2 in the Air)

Dixon, Sydney, and Weiss are aboard a B-2 approaching Curtis’ jet. The teams checks their gear.

DIXON: We’re just about there.

(Washington, D.C.)

JACK: (on phone) What’s their current position? Do we have an ETA for rendezvous?

MARSHALL: Okay, the docking point is two miles out. Final approach for hookup.

JACK: Is there any indication they’ve been detected? 

MARSHALL: No, A.T.C.’s still blind. And, I was able to jam the airliner’s traffic collision avoidance system. They don’t know we’re coming.

JACK: Good. Keep me posted. I want to know the second that plane is secured.

(Aboard the B-2)

The B-2 positions itself directly below the jet.

DIXON: Okay.

The B-2 attaches to the jet. Weiss presses some buttons. 

WEISS: Docking tube’s pressurized. 

Weiss opens the hatch. The team begins to climb the ladder to board the jet. 

A cell phone rings.

JACK: (answers phone) Yes.

MARSHALL: Rendezvous complete. They’re on board.

JACK: Good. Thank you.

The B-2 disconnects from the jet. The team makes its way into the cargo hold of the jet. Weiss turns on the lights. Sydney spots the device and calls Marshall.

MARSHALL: (answers phone) Flinkman.

SYDNEY: Hey, it’s me.

MARSHALL: Oh yeah, I know. I gave you your own ringtone. So did you find the b*mb?

SYDNEY: I’m standing right in front of it.

MARSHALL: Okay. Great. Well, what do you see? Tell me about it.

SYDNEY: It’s about 8 feet by 3 feet. (opens container) There’s a hose running alongside it. Looks like it’s feeding nuridium into the panel. 

MARSHALL: Okay, you need to access that panel. Can you get to it? Can you open it?

SYDNEY: Let’s see, just give me a sec. (starts to pry open panel)

Meanwhile, Dixon and Weiss have gone to secure the cabin.

DIXON: Three tangos. On my go. Three… two… one…

Suddenly, a man comes out of the lavatory, right in front of Dixon. Dixon knocks the man out, but the man’s cell phone falls into the aisle of the cabin. Weiss is considering his next move regarding the two men in the front of the cabin when the cell phone rings. The two men in front hear the ring and turn to see Weiss. They sh**t at him. Curtis gets out of his seat. 

Sydney is working with Marshall (via phone) to dismantle the device.

MARSHALL: Go, go, go. Oh, you know what? There should be a detonator attached to the regulator. Do you see that?

SYDNEY: Okay. I don’t see it.

MARSHALL: Well, it has to be there. Because without a detonator, there’s no detonation. That’s how it works.

SYDNEY: Fine. I’m just telling you, it’s not here.

MARSHALL: Well, Syd, it has to be there, okay? Because there is no b*mb without a detonator.

Sydney examines the device again and opens another panel, revealing a monitor. The device beeps. Sydney sees a body in the window of the container.

SYDNEY: Marshall… I don’t think it’s a b*mb.

A g*n cocks.

CURTIS: I don’t believe you have a boarding pass.

SYDNEY: Go ahead. sh**t me. But if you do, there’s a damn good chance my hand will slip, and I’ll cut this connection. Whoever this guy is, he’s obviously pretty important to you. It’d be a shame is something were to happen to him.

CURTIS: Step away from the container.

SYDNEY: I don’t think so.

Back in the cabin…

WEISS: Dixon, cover me!

Weiss pushes a food cart up the aisle and dodges b*ll*ts. He is able to get to the front of the plane and fight one of the men.

Back in the cargo hold…

CURTIS: You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.

SYDNEY: I’ll ask you once, and if you don’t answer me, I will cut this. Who is Dean working with? Who gave the order to k*ll Michael Vaughn?

CURTIS: Even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.

SYDNEY: Humor me.

Back in the cabin…

Weiss continues to fight the man, who fires some sh*ts into the cockpit, k*lling the pilot. The plane loses control momentarily, knocking Curtis down and helping Weiss overcome the man he is fighting with. 

WEISS: Going in the cockpit!

Weiss grabs the pilot and drags him out of the cockpit.

WEISS: I got him. Take him.

Dixon takes the controls and restabilizes the plane.

Back in the cargo hold….

After Curtis was knocked off balance, he dropped his g*n. Sydney manages to grab it before he got to it. She points the g*n at Curtis, who is sitting on the floor.

CURTIS: What are you waiting for?

SYDNEY: (pauses) Turn around. On your knees. I’m taking you in.

CURTIS: Then… you might as well k*ll me. (gets up) I won’t survive the night in custody. 

SYDNEY: If you’re willing to cooperate, we can protect you.

CURTIS: No. You have no idea. These people…

SYDNEY: Who?

Curtis reaches up and opens the door to the cargo hold. He gets sucked out of the jet. Sydney grabs on to avoid the same fate.

APO

A meeting with Jack, Sydney, Dixon, Weiss, and Marshall.

JACK: Our initial assumptions were wrong. The nuridium wasn’t being utilized as an expl*sive. We believe it was used to power a cryogenic chamber.

WEISS: You mean, freezing people-cryogenics?

MARSHALL: Sort of. Um. It’s usually done with liquid nitrogen. But this is like, next-gen cryo-preservation. I mean, whoever this person is, or was, they probably died of a terminal illness, and they’re using this container to preserve the corpse until a treatment is found. Of course, the notion that anyone can ever be revived – complete fiction. Believe me, I’ve tried. 

SYDNEY: Have we IDed the body?

JACK: Not yet. The container is currently in DSR custody. They’ll forward us the forensic analysis as soon as it’s complete. An evidence team scoured the plane for anything that might be of value, but I’m not expecting anything to come of it. For now, we’ve done everything we can. We’ll just have to wait for the reports.

The team nods. Dixon, Weiss and Marshall leave the room.

JACK: Sydney… (walks over and sits down in front of her)

SYDNEY: (sighs) We lost our only lead on Gordon Dean… I’m not sure if I can do this, Dad.

JACK: (concerned) We’ll get another lead.

SYDNEY: It’s not that. It’s everything, it’s … it’s hard being without him. I saw the baby’s heart b*at for the very first time the other day. I was by myself. It’s not fair. He should have been there.

JACK: (sighs) I’m here. How can I help?

SYDNEY: My next doctor’s appointment’s in a few weeks. Would you go with me?

JACK: Sweetheart, of course I will. Sydney, you’re gonna be okay.

SYDNEY: Yeah. (nods) Yeah.

Thomas Grace walks into APO. Someone takes him to an empty desk. Grace puts his stuff down. Weiss sees Grace at this desk and comes over to introduce himself.

WEISS: Hey, how you doing? Eric Weiss.

GRACE: Tom Grace.

WEISS: Hey, Tom. Uh, listen. This desk isn’t exactly an ideal location for you… it’s right under the air conditioning vent and there’s actually a wobble in the desk. (shakes desk around). You know.

GRACE: Yeah, I get it. The guy I’m replacing – he sat here.

WEISS: You can have mine. That’s… (points to his desk) I’m not gonna need it anymore. And you know, actually, I suppose you’re replacing me as well. Look, these are really good people here.

GRACE: Yeah. (walks over to his new desk)

Sydney walks up and hugs Weiss.

WEISS: Hey!

SYDNEY: I’ll see you soon enough. I mean, God knows I have enough frequent flier miles.

WEISS: You’re lying -- but I appreciate that. I was just thinking about how humid it is in D.C. I mean, and I am a sweater. I mean, you know that.

DIXON: (walks up) I just got off the phone with the DSR. There was a breach at their holding facility. Two agents injured, that’s all I know. We better notify Jack.

SYDNEY: Yeah. (looks at Weiss, concerned)

WEISS: Yeah, go. Go.

Dixon nods to Weiss and leaves. Sydney smiles at Weiss and goes to join Dixon. Weiss is left alone in the middle of APO.

(Renée’s Hideout)

A cell phone rings.

RENÉE: (answers) Hello?

SYDNEY: Hey.

RENÉE: Got your message. Have you identified the body?

SYDNEY: That’s why I’m calling. The body was stolen. It was being held by a scientific research division, and their facility was h*t. Once I get the incident report, I’ll forward you the details.

RENÉE: I’ll dig around. I’ll see what I can find out.

Renée walks past a container – the same one that was on the jet. As the monitor begins to beep at a constant rate, the hand of the body inside the container moves.
{"type": "series", "show": "Alias", "episode": "05x02 - ...1..."}