Morning after. Sydney and Vaughn face each other in bed, Vaughn with his eyes closed and a smile on his face.)

SYDNEY: How are we going to stay awake today?

VAUGHN: Who cares?

(He runs his hand along her shoulder.)

SYDNEY: Vaughn?

VAUGHN: How come you never call me Michael?

SYDNEY: I do sometimes. Vaughn?

VAUGHN: What?

SYDNEY: I'm graduating today.

VAUGHN: What? When the hell did you have time to take a class this year?

SYDNEY: I wasn't even going to go to the ceremony but... And I've been lying here remembering why I never gave school up and why I k*lled myself writing papers instead of... I don't know, accepting that I'd be an agent forever.

VAUGHN: You're going to quit the CIA, aren't you?

(Sydney nods.)

(CIA with Sydney, Kendall, and Jack.)

KENDALL: I'm afraid I can't endorse your resignation.

SYDNEY: Excuse me?

KENDALL: Well, with the Alliance gone, we got a hell of a mess to clean up.

SYDNEY: You don't need me for that.

KENDALL: Well, that's opinion. And what about Arvin Sloane, whom I think you would have a special interest in bringing to justice?

SYDNEY: Sloane is just a cog in a machine that doesn't exist anymore. He's wanted in forty countries. I did everything for the CIA I said I would, and I'm done.

KENDALL: Jack, you want to jump in here?

JACK: For years, I wanted nothing more than to see you live a normal life. However, your value to the CIA is irrefutable. So while this is ultimately your choice, I suggest that given the enormity of the last two weeks, you may not want to make life-altering decisions without a little more perspective.

SYDNEY: I've had two years of perspective! I am through letting Arvin Sloane control my life and I don't need your approval to resign! I told you as a courtesy!

KENDALL: Well, then, I will pay you the courtesy of informing you that if you leave this agency, you forfeit the clearance to see your mother.

SYDNEY: What, are you blackmailing me?

KENDALL: Civilians aren't authorized to be in this facility, let alone have access to a t*rror1st we can't even acknowledge is in our custody! In or out, kiddo? Can't have it both ways.

(Kendall walks away. Jack looks at Sydney.)

JACK: Legally, he's right. Ethically, he's an ass.

(Sydney walks down the long hall to Irina's cell. Irina smiles at her through the glass.)

IRINA: Congratulations. Your father told me about your success. What about your associates at SD-6? You had friends there, yes?

SYDNEY: I haven't seen them yet. I mean, they're still being debriefed. I'm sorry that I haven't been to see you in a while.

IRINA: Well, I understand. I'm sure this has been overwhelming for you.

SYDNEY: I graduate today.

IRINA: I know. I would think you'd be more relieved with SD-6 and the Alliance gone.

SYDNEY: I'm thinking about leaving the CIA. Which would mean giving up my clearance to see you.

IRINA: You're too forgiving, Sydney. Don't pretend I'm something I'm not. I've never been a real mother to you and... you don't owe me a second chance. If you make this decision about me, you're a fool. In fact, if you decide to stay I won't agree to see you anymore. Take care of yourself.

(Sydney takes a long look at Irina and then leaves. Irina puts her head down.)

(Aquarium museum. Large fish t*nk line the walls. People walk around.)

TOUR GUIDE ANNOUNCER: By capturing on video a glimpse of this unique breeding ritual, we've improved our understanding of the reproduction of the weedy sea dragon.

(A little boy runs through, being chased by his mother, Mrs. Caplan.)

MRS. CAPLAN: Aaron! Aaron! Don't run!

AARON: I just want to go back to the jellyfish!

MRS. CAPLAN: Okay. Always make sure we can see you, okay? And hold on to your jacket, Aaron!

TOUR GUIDE ANNOUNCER: It seeks out cavelike areas in the stony walls of the ocean and adheres its eggs to the interior walls.

(Mr. Caplan walks behind them, his mind elsewhere. Mrs. Caplan takes Aaron over to the jellyfish t*nk.)

MRS. CAPLAN: Okay, so you're going to stay here, right?

AARON: Yes.

MRS. CAPLAN: You're gonna stay here?

AARON: Yeah!

MRS. CAPLAN: Okay.

AARON: Yeah.

MRS. CAPLAN: I'll be right over there with your daddy, okay?

(She walks over to Mr. Caplan.)

MRS. CAPLAN: Where are you?

MR. CAPLAN: Here. I'm here.

MRS. CAPLAN: Neil, it's Aaron's birthday. Your head's still at the blackboard.

MR. CAPLAN: Honey... I-I just... I need two more months, that's it. I-I am this close.

MRS. CAPLAN: I can't stand any more promises you don't keep!

MR. CAPLAN: I don't know how else to do this!

MRS. CAPLAN: Maybe you don't. There are other fields.

MR. CAPLAN: Once the polytechnic goes public with the design, I'll slow down. I mean, I'll stop. I promise.

MRS. CAPLAN: Think about your father. Aaron's growing up, and you're missing it.

MR. CAPLAN: Where is he?

(They look over to the jellyfish. Aaron's red jacket is on the ground and he's nowhere to be seen.)

TOUR GUIDE ANNOUNCER: Research done here in the museum has improved our understanding of the reproduction of this rare species...

MR. CAPLAN: Aaron!

MRS. CAPLAN: Aaron! Aaron! Excuse me, did you see a little boy? He's five-years-old, he's got a striped shirt on, he's got brown hair, his name is Aaron.

STRANGER: No. I'm sorry.

MRS. CAPLAN: Aaron!

MR. CAPLAN: I'll check the gift shop.

MRS. CAPLAN: Aaron!

(Mr. Caplan starts off for the gift shop. He turns a corner and Sark steps forward.)

SARK: Mr. Caplan. I believe I can help you locate your son. And your wife.

(Francie and Sydney and Will's. Francie and Will sit at the table, Will doing a crossword.)

WILL: It's a big day.

FRANCIE: Here she comes.

(Sydney steps out of her bedroom wearing her cap and gown.)

WILL: Oh there she--okay. Seriously? Oh, my God.

SYDNEY: Francie, what? Earrings, necklace? What do I need?

FRANCIE: Let's see...

(She gets up and takes a step closer.)

FRANCIE: You look beautiful.

(She gives Sydney a hug, her smile disappearing.)

FRANCIE: I'm so proud of you.

(Sydney seems to detect weird behavior.)

SYDNEY: Thank you.

(The telephone rings.)

WILL: What's a four-letter word for "ice cream thickener"?

SYDNEY: Agar. A-G-A-R.

FRANCIE: (on phone) Hello? Just a minute.

WILL: How'd you know that?

FRANCIE: Phone for you.

(Francie hands it over.)

SYDNEY: Hello?

SLOANE: Congratulations, Sydney. You have so many things to celebrate today. I, myself, am still coping with the pain and disappointment of learning that you and Jack were double agents. The two people I trusted most in the world.

WILL: How many "S"s in "Massachusetts"? Oh, sorry.

(Sydney leaves the room for privacy.)

SLOANE: Our first honest conversation, Sydney, and you have nothing to say?

SYDNEY: Listen to me, you son of a bitch! You have been a plague on my life. You repulse me! Every time I sat across from you, listening to your lies, all I could do was fantasize about slashing your throat!

SLOANE: Well, I can't pretend to be surprised that you feel that way. My only hope is that you can learn to forgive me. As hurt as I am, I know I can forgive you. After all, Sydney, I helped you.

SYDNEY: What are you talking about?

SLOANE: You don't really think it was a coincidence that I happened to be away these past two weeks, do you? The intel that you acquired that allowed the CIA to take down the Alliance -- I provided that. My involvement with the Alliance is merely a means to an end.

SYDNEY: Why are you telling me this?

SLOANE: Because knowing that I'm alive is going to tempt you to come after me. Don't. We've helped set each other free, Sydney. And as much as I wish you well, I will end your life if you get in my way.

(Briefing room at the CIA. Kendall, Jack, Vaughn, Sydney.)

SYDNEY: He called me at home. To warn me. No matter where he is, I can be gotten to.

JACK: Unfortunately, you're not the only one. Neil Caplan. He's a mathematecian working out of Cal Tech.

KENDALL: The bureau just confirmed that he and his family were kidnapped from the Long Beach Aquarium yesterday. Parking lot surveillance cameras recorded this.

(He starts the video which shows Caplan being ushered into a van by two men. Behind them is Sark.)

SYDNEY: Sark.

JACK: Doubtful he's acting alone. I assume his partnership with Sloane is alive and well.

SYDNEY: What do they want with a mathematician?

JACK: He specializes in a branch of mathematics called knot theory.

VAUGHN: Knot as in tie a knot?

JACK: Simply put, it's the study of geometric objects and how they fit together. All Alliance facilities have been raided yet we haven't found a single Rambaldi artifact. If Sloane was expecting our raid, he could've had everything moved to a secure location. He must be using Caplan to help him assemble a Rambaldi device.

VAUGHN: So what happens when Sloane puts the pieces together?

JACK: Whether or not you believe Rambaldi was a prophet, he did anticipate technological advances, many of which seem most applicable to warfare. It's likely Sloane is building a w*apon.

SYDNEY: He planned for this. He wanted the Alliance gone. And this family that he's taken hostage, they aren't the only people whose lives he'll destroy. This is never going to stop.

(Kendall plops down a stack of papers.)

KENDALL: Your resignation form. Sign it, and you're out.

(Warehouse. Sloane walks in a room where Sark and another man stands with Mr. Caplan, who is seated at a table, handcuffed to the chair. Caplan groans.)

SLOANE: Your glasses.

(He gives them to Caplan.)

SLOANE: Mr. Caplan, my name is Arvin Sloane.

MR. CAPLAN: Where's my family?

SLOANE: They're alive. And if you cooperate, you'll be reunited soon enough.

MR. CAPLAN: Where am I?

SLOANE: Years ago, I was with the army corps of engineering. They wanted me to study this.

(He opens a leather satchel.)

SLOANE: That manuscript is 500-years-old. Those sketches were drawn by a man named Milo Rambaldi. You will see that Rambaldi prophesied scientific principles centuries ahead of his time. Protoypes of his designs have turned up all over the world. For the past thirty years, I've been collecting them.

MR. CAPLAN: I don't understand. Why do you want me? I'm nobody.

SLOANE: You're going to help me put them together because, you see, Mr. Caplan, I know that you feel like you're only a hostage right now. But I assume you became a scientist to discover what secrets the universe has to offer. Believe me, when we're done here, you'll be thanking me for giving you the answer. So why don't you go ahead and take a look?

(Caplan picks up a document.)

(Dixon sits at a table in a room at the CIA. His tie is loosened and he looks very near tears. Sydney enters. She hesitantly sits at the table across from him.)

SYDNEY: I wanted to be the one to come in and tell you officially that you've been cleared. The CIA has concluded that you had no knowledge of what was really going on at SD-6. They want to offer you a place here.

(He says nothing, just staring at her coldly, practically rolling his eyes.)

SYDNEY: Dixon, you have to know that you were my anchor. Your friendship was the only thing that kept me sane.

DIXON: How long have you known?

SYDNEY: Two years. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I was ordered not to. The CIA had no way to verify what I knew in my heart was true -- that you would never consider working for a man like Arvin Sloane.

DIXON: We were partners. You lied to me, then chose to tell me the truth when it was convenient for you. I never want to see you again.

(At the CIA ops center upstairs, Marshall is reacting to his new life in a very different way. He speed walks and talks to another tech officer who takes notes.)

MARSHALL: Okay! I'll need taps into all gov networks -- NSA, DOD, FBI, CIA. Oh, I'll need a red phone to the president.

TECH GUY: No.

MARSHALL: That's all right, I just thought I'd ask. I'll need a cryogen air prototype rig. Don't worry, I'll put my own baffles on the heat sync so it won't be too loud.

(He walks into the main area and looks around in complete wonder.)

MARSHALL: Wow!

VAUGHN: Marshall. I'm Michael Vaughn. Welcome to the CIA.

MARSHALL: Heard that one before.

VAUGHN: Well, this time it's for real. We have a desk set up for you.

MARSHALL: Oh, okay. Oh, Syd!

SYDNEY: Marshall.

(They hug.)

MARSHALL: Hey.

SYDNEY: You okay?

MARSHALL: Yeah, I mean, every few minutes I have to fight the urge to weep openly. I'm not really sure where that's coming from yet but I think that's healthy, right?

SYDNEY: Listen, I know you need time to adjust but we could really use your help with something. Look, we're trying to find Sloane but we can't access any information from his computer.

MARSHALL: Well, he probably erased everything from his hard drive before he left and the deletion program I installed last year exceeded DOD sanitizing standards 'cause, you know, I thought I was working for the government! You know the story because you also thought you were working for -- I mean, you actually were working for the government and we didn't really know but that's okay. I'll see what I can do.

(Dixon walks in his house. His wife is doing dishes at the sink.)

MRS. DIXON: Hey, baby. Got your message, sorry your business trip was delayed.

(He gives her a little kiss.)

DIXON: Where are the kids?

MRS. DIXON: At the park with Mandy. Glad the bank at least gave you the rest of the day off.

DIXON: Diane.

MRS. DIXON: Hmm?

DIXON: We need to talk.

(She stops doing dishes and turns to him.)

MRS. DIXON: What is it? Is it your mother?

DIXON: No.

(He starts to cry a little.)

DIXON: I don't work at a bank. I never have.

(Vaughn, Sydney and Jack are crowded around Marshall's computer.)

MARSHALL: Well, I was able to recover a few fragments from the RAM drive on Sloane's database. One of them was the most recent doc he was working on. It's a digital rolodex. Now, he checked one address in it. Holden Gendler, Van Nuys. Guy's a cybernetic specialist.

JACK: I'll go.

(Jack kicks in the door, flashlight and g*n in hand. He walks in, looking for anything. He sweeps his flashlight over the office and comes around the desk where he finds Holden -- the nerd from "The Getaway" who gave Sloane his new wedding ring and was sh*t. His left eye is emitting a beeping sound and a red light flashes from the eyeball.)

(Briefing with Marshall, Kendall, Jack, Sydney, Vaughn.)

MARSHALL: Okay, um, now, usually redeye is a photographic effect caused by light reflecting in the pupil, but in Holden Gendler's case?

(He shows the eyeball.)

MARSHALL: It was caused by this. It's an intra-ocular retinal implant.

KENDALL: You care to elaborate?

MARSHALL: Yeah, of course, Mr. Ken--Director. 'Cause you're the Director Kendall. Right. Um, that's one L?

KENDALL: Two.

MARSHALL: It's two. Of course. Why would it--by the way, sir, this place? So much cooler than SD-6.

KENDALL: How about the point?

MARSHALL: Of course. Sorry. So, basically this guy Gendler, he was blind in his left eye so he used himself a a guinea pig for wetware experiments, interfacing technology with the human brain. Real cutting edge. Basically this implant connects with the optical nerve which sends impulses to the vision center in his brain.

VAUGHN: What did Sloane want with a wetware expert?

JACK: All Alliance members were injected with a tracking device. Sloane must've hired Gendler to deactivate his so he could disappear.

MARSHALL: Right. But there's more. Now, this little baby records everything it sees on an internal memory. Now the LED light was blinking because it was full so I was able to download twelve hours of footage. Now there was no audio so I created a lip reading program. Just whipped it up. No extra charge. And, uh, take a look at what I found. This is the last thing Gendler saw.

(On the video screen, we get a POV sh*t of Sloane sh**ting Gendler. Sloane comes around the desk and sh**t him again.)

MARSHALL: Mr. Sloane...

(Sloane takes out his cell phone. An electronic voice does the lip reading.)

ELECTRONIC VOICE: It's Sloane. I've chartered a C-123 out of Shipman to transport the artifacts. I will be in touch.

JACK: "Shipman" could refer to the airfield in the Mojave desert. We've surveilled it before. It's operated by a transatlantic smuggling cartel. Ex-military, dishonorably discharged after the Gulf w*r. They're well-armed, highly organized. And they do have a C-123 in their fleet.

KENDALL: I could have a tactical team there in three hours. Once these guys understand their legal options, they'll be inclined to tell us where Sloane went.

SYDNEY: Interrogating the employees could take days. And Sloane doesn't just let hostages go when he's done with them.

KENDALL: I'm open to suggestions.

SYDNEY: If we could get into the facility undetected and access the flight data recorder on the plane Sloane chartered, we could track him directly to his last destination.

KENDALL: Spoken like a true volunteer.

(In a bathroom somewhere, Mrs. Caplan and Aaron are huddled on the floor, handcuffed to a pipe on the wall.)

AARON: I'm hungry.

(Sark and another man enter.)

MRS. CAPLAN: Where's my husband?

SARK: Your husband is a gifted individual. And we need his assistance for a short while. Should he choose to cooperate, this will soon be an unpleasant memory.

(He bends down to them and takes out a recorder.)

SARK: We'd like for you to tell your husband that you support his cooperation and if he doesn't, your son will be the first to suffer.

MRS. CAPLAN: Oh, God...

(Aaron cries. Sark holds out the tape recorder.)

(At the Mojave airfield, Vaughn meets with one of the employees and opens a crate that holds some w*apon. A man stands behind Vaughn.)

VAUGHN: So, Mr. Johnson, I need these shipped to Beijing by tomorrow.

MR. JOHNSON: You know what I find most interesting, Mr. Ludlow? Is that for an accomplished arms merchant, I've never heard your name.

(A g*n cocks behind Vaughn, pointed right at his head.)

MR. JOHNSON: Now if you're really an expert, you'll know what kind of g*n is pointed at the back of your head by the sound of the hammer.

VAUGHN: An M19-11. But if he were really going to sh**t me, he would have disengaged the thumb safety.

MR. JOHNSON: I got a charter leaving for Asia in a half an hour. If the money and the delivery instructions are in that briefcase as we discussed, it's been a pleasure doing business with you.

(A forklift takes the large crate and drops it inside a plane. Vaughn's Ford SUV parks nearby. The forklift backs out and leaves the crate there. Sydney rolls out of it, dressed as a workperson with her jumpsuit on.)

SYDNEY: Good call on the g*n. I would'v esaid Baretta M-9.

VAUGHN: Figured I had a 50/50 chance.

(Sydney walks around in the hangar.)

SYDNEY: Found the AFT access plane, I'm looking for the flight data recorder. Found it! Attaching the disk imager.

(On Vaughn's hand-held computer, it starts downloading.)

VAUGHN: Receiving uplink now.

(The plane starts, its propeller whirring to life.)

VAUGHN: Uplink complete, get out of there.

(A cartel employee discovers Sydney.)

EMPLOYEE: What are you doing here? I don't have a work order in this aircraft. Give me your ID, I'm calling this in.

(She hands it over.)

EMPLOYEE: Tower, I need confirmation--

(Sydney knees him in the gut, elbows him and punches him. He falls to the ground.)

SYDNEY: Vaughn, I've been made! Meet me at the northwest hangar!

VAUGHN: Copy that, I'm on my way!

(Tires screeching, he takes off. Sydney runs out of the plane when another employee, this one holding a g*n, comes around and sees her. She kicks the g*n away and, near the propeller, they start to fight. She blocks several punches and receives a few. She grabs a box of nails from the nearby table and throws it at him, some of the nails hitting the propeller and zinging away. Sydney grabs a wrench and jabs it at him. He kicks her on the back of her neck, sending her forward to the propeller. He flings her to the ground and kicks her. Sydney, on the ground, yanks at a thick cord he was standing on which sends him backwards, landing in the propellor. Blood flies everywhere as Vaughn drives up.)

VAUGHN: Get in!

(She runs to the SUV and jumps in.)

SYDNEY: GO!

(They drive off.)

(It's raining outside. Night. Dixon sits out on his porch with a drink. Tears in his eyes. A car pulls up and Diane steps out, comes to the porch and sits next to him.)

DIXON: Where did you stay last night?

MRS. DIXON: At my sister's. The kids are there. The time you were sh*t, you told me that you had been mugged. If you had died that day, I would have buried a stranger. Look, I don't know if a single word you have ever said to me was true!

DIXON: My love for you is true. My love for our children is true. As a husband, as a father... I couldn't honestly say I was protecting my family unless I was out there!

MRS. DIXON: Except that you were working for the people that make the world more dangerous.

DIXON: I thought I was serving our country. This man -- Sloane... I will never lie to you again. The CIA's offered me a job.

MRS. DIXON: Marcus, I did not choose a life of wondering whether my husband was coming home every night. You take that job, you take it alone.

(She goes inside, leaving Dixon to sit on the porch alone, in the rain.)

(Caplan drops his glasses on the table, rubs at his head.)

SLOANE: Will you help us?

MR. CAPLAN: You want me to help you? You let my family go. That is the only way!

SLOANE: No. That is not the only way.

(He hits play on the recorder.)

MRS. CAPLAN'S VOICE: Help them, honey. Do what they want, please, or they're going to hurt Aaron...

(He rubs at his eyes.)

MR. CAPLAN: You want me to help you put this thing together. Are you telling me that these pieces exist?

SLOANE: You're sitting in a warehouse full of them.

MR. CAPLAN: According to this, each artifact is generating its own unique magnetic field. These fields determine where in the overall design the pieces go. The problem is, there's no room for error in the calculations and the equipment you gave me isn't sensitive enough for me to measure the fields with perfect accuracy. I need something I don't have!

SLOANE: The magnetometer you're developing for the Swiss polytechnic.

MR. CAPLAN: How do you know about that?

SLOANE: I know about a lot of things.

MR. CAPLAN: You're asking me to do something I cannot do. The magnetometer was designed to measure magnetic fields in space. It would be sensitive enough to do this kind of work but until it's cleared patent, the polytechnics have got it locked up in a vault somewhere.

SLOANE: The Amcorp bank. It's two miles from here.

MR. CAPLAN: We're in Switzerland?

SLOANE: By tomorrow, you'll have what you need.

(Outside the interrogation room, Sloane speaks on his cell.)

SLOANE: Just a few more days, Emily. Well, I'm still waiting for the owner to counter. Yeah, of course it has a garden. As a matter of fact, I'm looking out the window at the garden right now. yes. I miss you too, my love.

(He enters his office and takes a seat behind the desk. Sark sits nearby.)

SARK: What happens when your wife's ready to move to her Tuscan villa?

SLOANE: I purchased it six months ago.

SARK: I made contact with our point man. He's assembling a team for the bank but I must question your decision to lead them in yourself. In spite of your precautions, it's wildly risky, given your new level of notoreity.

SLOANE: I'm approaching the finish line of a thirty-year odyssey. I won't let anyone else take the final steps for me.

(CIA op center.)

JACK: This is the flight plan we retrieved from the plane's data recorders. Sloane left Shimpan for an island off the coast of Bermuda. We're sending in a team but it's doubtful he's still there because the plane then went on to the Zurich airport in Switzerland.

SYDNEY: It's a start, but he could be anywhere by now.

JACK: Unless we assume Sloane went to Switzerland for a reason, that he isn't merely passing through, in that case we can expect him to hire local support, mercenaries.

VAUGHN: I dealt with a guy in Switzerland. A headhunter we once used to put a black ops team together in western Europe. He controls most of the local territory. Sloane would use him if he needed mercs.

KENDALL: Well, assuming he did, if this guy knows your CIA he could tip Sloane off.

VAUGHN: He doesn't. We hired him fronting as a French crime syndicate.

KENDALL: Set up a meet. You two are on a plane.

(In Switzerland, Sloane meets with a prosthetic guy. His face is scanned in 3D on a computer and then is transformed into another face with the help of prosthetics.)

SLOANE: The bank's facial recognition cameras will measure my underlying bone structure.

PROSTHETICS: The cameras target the distance between your cheekbones. The prosthetics I'll apply are lined with a carbon powder. The system's data won't find a match. Even an X-ray would be fooled.

SLOANE: Well, then, let's begin.

(In a bar in Switzerland, a guy sits at a bar as the bartender pours him a drink. The guy takes a sip. Sydney and Vaughn enter, Sydney going over to the pool table. Vaughn sits next to his contact.)

CONTACT: (in French) What's in the briefcase?

VAUGHN: (in French) Five hundred thousand.

CONTACT: (in French) Not nearly enough if you're looking to put together a team.

VAUGHN: (in French) I'm not. I need information.

CONTACT: (in French) I'm not an encyclopedia.

VAUGHN: I'm not French. I'm CIA. We've tolerated your existence because you've been helpful but that tolerance can end now. We have reason to believe one of these men recently approached you to hire some of your contacts. Warm or cold?

(He drops a picture of Sloane and Sark on the bar.)

CONTACT: If you had told me the CIA was simply interested in my client list, I would have told you to go make love... with your mother.

(Vaughn grabs him, bangs his head against the bar and pours the guy's drink over his head. The bartender bends down, getting a g*n. Sydney grabs her g*n and points it at the bartender.)

SYDNEY: Hands!

(Vaughn takes a lighter and flicks it on, putting the flame near the guy's head, which is drenched in the alcohol.)

CONTACT: Ahhh, you broke my--

VAUGHN: Tell me if they came to see you!

CONTACT: You broke my nose!

VAUGHN: TALK TO ME!

CONTACT: Okay, okay, they came! They hired some men!

VAUGHN: For what?

CONTACT: I don't know the details!

VAUGHN: Tell me what you know!

CONTACT: The woman and the child -- I know where they are!

VAUGHN: Where?!

CONTACT: In the other room, downstairs!

(Vaughn and Sydney look at each other in shock.)

VAUGHN: They're here?

(Near the bathroom with the Caplan family, two guards play some cards at a table. Knock on a door. One guard gets up.)

VOICE: C'est moi!

(He opens the door a little and Sydney kicks in the door, knocking him back. Mrs. Caplan and Aaron are in the next room, huddled together, as they hear three sh*ts. Sydney comes in, g*n pointed and sees them. They cry. Vaughn comes in. Sydney heads for Mrs. Caplan, Vaughn heads for the little boy.)

SYDNEY: It's okay! We're CIA agents, you're safe.

VAUGHN: It's okay, buddy.

SYDNEY: You're safe, come on.

MRS. CAPLAN: (sobbing) Oh, God!

(She hugs Sydney. The four of them get up, with Vaughn carrying Aaron.)

MRS. CAPLAN: Where's my husband?

SYDNEY: We're still looking for him. We're doing everything we can.

MRS. CAPLAN: What's your name?

SYDNEY: Sydney. Sydney Bristow.

MRS. CAPLAN: Thank you, Sydney.

(She carries Aaron out of there.)

MRS. CAPLAN: Shhh, shhh, shhh...

VAUGHN: Syd, one of the guys had a cell phone. If either Sark or Sloane called directly, we can trace him.

(At the CIA, Marshall is surrounded by a few agents.)

TECH GUY: We still don't get how you detected the tap we put on the SD-6 network last year.

MARSHALL: Yes, that was a noble attempt, gentleman, a noble attempt. But, uh, you see, what happened was it was interfering with my online Dungeon Master game. My gnome kept skipping a frame every time he swung his battle ax, so...

(His phone rings.)

MARSHALL: Oh, my God. My first phone call. Excuse me. (picks up) Yeah, this is Marshall?

SYDNEY: Marshall, it's me. I need you to run a location trace on every incoming call that was made to the phone I'm talking to you on.

MARSHALL: Sure, Syd, no problem.

(He sits down at his computer and changes to a headset.)

MARSHALL: Okay, I need you to scroll to the incoming call menu on the phone and then h*t pound, pound, and then send.

SYDNEY: Okay, hold on.

(She does so.)

MARSHALL: I'm getting fifteen locations.

SYDNEY: Any of them in Zurich?

MARSHALL: Uh, two. The first one was made from a payphone at the Zurich airport.

SYDNEY: No good. Next!

MARSHALL: Made from a cell phone. I can probably triangulate the location if it's on. I got it! It's moving.

SYDNEY: Where is it?

MARSHALL: Looks like the Amcorp bank on Newmarket Street.

SYDNEY: I'll call you right back. (hangs up) We're going to Newmarket Street.

(Sydney and Vaughn are speeding down the streets of Zurich, both speaking on their phones.)

SYDNEY: Marshall, we're heading south on Burgstrasse!

VAUGHN: The robbery is in progress!

SYDNEY: Burgstrasse! Are you copying my signal?

MARSHALL: Yeah, yeah, I got you. Make a right at the next light!

SYDNEY: Hold on!

(She does so, swinging into the lanes.)

(At the bank, in the underground parking lot [which looks like the Credit Dauphine one], a limo drives up with Sark behind the wheel. Three men get out and then Sloane steps out, wearing his prosthetics. Two men greet them.)

SHYER: Mr. Skopic, welcome. I'm Claude Shyer, president of Amcorp bank. We spoke on the phone.

SLOANE: Ah, yes. Thank you for accomodating me on such short notice.

SHYER: Not at all. Fifty million dollars in cash is not the kind of thing one likes to leave under one's pillow for very long. This is our bank manager, Peter Kuntz.

KUNTZ: Hello.

SLOANE: Pleasure.

SHYER: He will take you to our vault while I secure your deposit.

SLOANE: Good.

(Sydney zooms through the traffic.)

(Kuntz leads Sloane and his mean down a flight of stairs, heading for the vault.)

KUNTZ: Can I offer you anything? An espresso?

SLOANE: Oh, thank you very much, most kind. But due to a sensitive stomach my physician has prohibited caffeine from my diet.

KUNTZ: Very well. After you.

(The camera high up on the wall is on. In the limo, Sark types on his laptop.)

SARK: I've spliced into the facial registration database.

(No match found.)

SARK: You've cleared their system.

(At the vault, Kuntz enters.)

SARK: I'll need ten seconds. Keep him talking a bit longer.

SLOANE: Herr Kuntz, let me ask you something. This American w*r on terrorism, has it affected your procedure in any way at all?

SARK: Looping the feed... now.

KUNTZ: I assure you, our institution is one of the most safest in the world.

(Sloane takes out a g*n and sh**t him.)

SLOANE: Box 4747!

(The men open the briefcases that held the fifty million deposit -- it's rigged with expl*sives.)

(Sydney speeds through the traffic.)

MARSHALL: Okay, take a left into the alley!

VAUGHN: I guess it's pointless to say we should wait for backup?

(Sydney doesn't answer, just floors it through the alley. A pedestrian is walking by, cars going by on the street in front of them.)

VAUGHN: Sydney, you're going too fast! SYDNEY!

(She almost hits someone, flies into the street and looks back as the cars stop, blaring their horns. She comes to a stop in front of the bank.)

(In the vault, they open box 4747 and take out a briefcase. Sloane opens it and finds the magnetometer. He smiles.)

(Up in the lobby, Sydney and Vaughn march in. Sydney shows her badge to a security guard at the door.)

SYDNEY: Who's in charge?

(Claude Shyer sits at a desk nearby.)

SHYER: What can I do for you?

SYDNEY: We're United States agents. Lockdown your vault, you're being robbed.

SHYER: I think you're mistaken.

(He turns the monitor to face them. The disguised Sloane is seen talking to Kuntz. There's a slight flicker in the feed.)

SYDNEY: It's looped. That's him.

(In his limo, Sark watches the video feed of Sydney and Vaughn at Shyer's desk.)

SARK: Sydney's in the lobby! She's by the entrance!

(Sydney looks up as Sloane and his guards come up in the lobby. She takes out her g*n and points it at him across the way.)

SYDNEY: SLOANE!

(He looks. The guards point their g*n at Sydney and Vaughn. People scream, run and hide. Vaughn and Sydney have their g*n pointed.)

SLOANE: Hold your f*re!

MERCENARY: Get down!

SLOANE: I warned you, Sydney. I can't guarantee your safety in a situation like this.

SYDNEY: There's no way I'm letting you walk out of here!

SLOANE: Ah... you must be the man that Sark told me about. The man that Sydney was willing to k*ll me for.

VAUGHN: She would have k*lled you for a lot less.

SYDNEY: The police are on their way. We have Caplan's family. Give up!

SLOANE: We've rigged the lower level with enough C-4 to level the entire city block so if we don't walk out of here... nobody does.

SYDNEY: You're bluffing.

(He takes out a remote trigger from his jacket pocket.)

SLOANE: I'm not the only one carrying a remote trigger. The entire bank is monitored via satellite by an off-site team. If they don't see me walk out of here in thirty seconds, they'll detonate. So I suggest that you both lower your g*n. Lower... your g*n.

(She puts hers down. Vaughn reluctantly obeys.)

SLOANE: Toss them on the ground.

(She does. Vaughn follows.)

SLOANE: And you, my dear... you'll be driving me out of here.

(He tosses her a set of keys. Sydney catches them.)
{"type": "series", "show": "Alias", "episode": "02x15 - Free Agent"}