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Transmissão .::. Transcripts .::. Primeira Temporada .::. #1.04 A Broken Heart

(Continuing from last week. Sydney and Ana kneel in front of the case, staring at its contents. It starts to beep. Acid starts bubbling up through two tubes at either side of a piece of paper which is centered inside. It has binary digits written on it -- 0s and 1s. Ana and Sydney start memorizing it, saying out loud. The acid starts covering the piece of paper. The sheet disintegrates. They stand.)
SYDNEY: Did you get it?
ANA: Did you?
(They take off, running in opposite directions.)
SYDNEY: Dixon, I'm ending transmission!

(Inside the SD-6 van, an agent sits with Dixon.)
AGENT: She turned off her mic, I've lost her signal.

(Sydney runs through the alley of the field.)
SYDNEY: 0-0-1-0. Did you get that?
(Vaughn is still in L.A.)
VAUGHN: Got it.
SYDNEY: I'm giving SD-6 the wrong number!
VAUGHN: What? No, no, no, no, you give them exactly what--
SYDNEY: I'm not giving them the right sequence! There is no way, forget it!
VAUGHN: Sydney, listen to me! This is critical! Sydney, you give them the number. That's an order.
SYDNEY: An order?
VAUGHN: Yes.
SYDNEY: We have to have a long talk when I get back to Los Angeles!
(Sydney runs up to the SD-6 van and crawls in.)
SYDNEY: Dixon, I've got the code! 0-1-0-0-0-1-1-0-0--

(In the K-Directorate van, Ana tells the code to her agents.)
ANA: Null, adin, null, adin--

(Sydney and the agents in the van, Dixon takes it down.)
SYDNEY: 1-0-0-0-1-1-0-0-1-1-1. Just two ones. Then--

(In the K-Directorate van.)
ANA: Null, adin, null, adin, null, null, adin, null--

(SD-6 van.)
SYDNEY: 1-1-0-1. That's it. 1-1-0-1.
DIXON: You did good.

(In Los Angeles, inside a yellow parked van. Sydney, Vaughn and Weiss.)
SYDNEY: You do NOT give me orders!
VAUGHN: Maybe I do--
SYDNEY: I could have easily misled SD-6--
VAUGHN: You're not thinking this through!
SYDNEY: ...That's what I'm here for!
VAUGHN: Just stop talking for a second! If you'd given SD-6 a bogus code, what would have happened when Ana gave K-Directorate the correct sequence?
SYDNEY: Who cares? They would have thought I made a mistake!
VAUGHN: Oh, and what, that Ana didn't? She would've given them the correct code, they would have seen the code indicate at Athens, K-Directorate would head there, SD-6 would have nothing. They would suspect you. Sydney, we have to be very careful here. We have to be wildly, crazy careful. If SD-6 suspects you in the least, it's over.
SYDNEY: Ana's been the enemy for three years. In Berlin I realized she wants SD-6 to burn almost as much as I do.
VAUGHN: As far as the C.I.A.'s concerned, the only thing worse than SD-6 getting its hands on critical information is if K-Directorate gets it first. Ana is still your enemy.

(Credit Dauphine. Sloane and Russett walk together.)
SLOANE: You're not into mysticism, are you?
RUSSETT: Mysticism.
SLOANE: Neither am I. But keep an open mind, it'll help. The code was written in 1489. The guy who wrote it was some sort of Nostradamus. His name was Milo Rambaldi.
RUSSETT: This binary was witten by a fifteenth century fortuneteller. How come I've never heard of him?
SLOANE: His designs were so advanced, they just assumed he was insane. On some of his drawings, he made lists of part numbers. I.D. numbers of actual technology not manufactured until now. This year. It's real, it's a hunt. This man spent the last ten years of his life working on one project. We don't know whether it's a weapon, a fuel source, a transportation system. Based on the little we do know, its technology is beyond anything we have ever seen. How's your wife? I forgot to ask.
RUSSETT: Uh, good. Yours?
SLOANE: Actually, Emily's a bit under the weather. Thanks for asking. Come on.

(They enter the board room where Marshall and Sydney sit.)
SLOANE: Did you read the report?
SYDNEY: They found nothing.
SLOANE: This is Anthony Russett, he's transferring here from Jennings. He's working on the UCO file. You've already met Marshall. This is Sydney Bristow.
RUSSETT: I know your father.
SLOANE: We read the code you recovered. Accordingly, we sent a team to Athens. So, I just got a phone call from SD-3, he said there was no evidence to anything pertaining to Rambaldi. And we were there first. Turns out, we made a giant mistake. But so did K-Directorate.
MARSHALL: In our rush to decipher the Rambaldi enigma, we misinterpreted the code. It left us with two series of digits. We assumed longitude and latitude. But he was using a compression scheme. I should have seen that. Instead of sending a team to Athens, we should have been headed to Malaga, Spain.
SLOANE: Which is where you're going. There's a five-hundred-year-old church sitting on the exact site of Rambaldi's coordinates.
SYDNEY: What am I looking for?
SLOANE: We don't know. The only clue we have, if it is indeed a clue, are two words that were part of a code: Sol d'oro.
RUSSETT: Golden sun.

(Malaga, Spain. Sydney shines a flashlight in the church, she looks over the pews for the clue. She looks around, turns to see the painted glass window at the back of the church. In the center is a golden sun. Sydney takes a desk and stands on top if it. She touches the golden sun and unscrews its center. The golden circle is the clue. She looks at it in her hands, and jumps down. Ana, from behind her, takes her by the throat and snatches the golden sun away from her.)
ANA: I was hoping you'd come.
(Sydney kicks Ana and Ana's gun goes sliding down the floor. Sydney punches her, roundhouse kicks. Ana drops the sun. Sydney flips Ana and dives behind a pew while Ana fires her gun at the pews, destroying many of them. Sydney flinches while on the floor, covering her head. She sees the sun lying nearby. Ana slinks closer with her gun in hand. She sees the sun, bends down and gets it. Sydney comes up from behind and hits her on the head with a wooden post with religious markings on it. The gun flies. Ana grabs a long candle stick holder and slaps Sydney in the head with it. Sydney lands on her back on a table. Sydney grabs Ana's hand and holds it above all the candles that are lit. Ana snatches her hand away, yelping in pain. Sydney quickly moves and handcuffs Ana's hand to the table post. She struggles like a caged animal. Sydney takes the sun, and walks out.)

(In Sydney's house, Sydney and Francie sit on the sofa eating Chinese food. Sydney holds the matchbook, looking at it.)
SYDNEY: You haven't said anything to Charlie?
FRANCIE: I needed to talk to you first.
SYDNEY: It's just a matchbook with someone's number.
FRANCIE: Yeah, someone named Rachel who "truly loved tonight."
SYDNEY: You have to ask Charlie about it.
FRANCIE: Yeah.
SYDNEY: I mean, what else are you going to do?
FRANCIE: Have you ever spied on anyone? Okay, I know it's totally beneath me, but Charlie has been so distant lately, and every time I ask him what's wrong, he's like, "Nothing, baby. Everything's cool. It's all fine."
SYDNEY: You don't believe him.
FRANCIE: He has law review in an hour.
SYDNEY: You want to follow hm.
FRANCIE: So much, I cannot even tell you.
SYDNEY: I think spying on your boyfriend generally sets a bad relationship precedent.
FRANCIE: What if he's cheating on me?

(Across the street from Francie and Charlie's house, Sydney and Francie sit in Sydney's vehicle. Francie eats some candy.)
FRANCIE: You're a really good friend, you know that?
SYDNEY: Yes, I do. (smiles) So, this thing happened with Will the other night.
FRANCIE: What, did he come on to you?
SYDNEY: No, no. I kissed him.
FRANCIE: What? You kissed Will Tippin? Are you kidding me?
SYDNEY: I know. Stop it. We were in the apartment by ourselves after you and Charlie left and we had all those drinks...
FRANCIE: I don't believe it. You must have been really drunk. Hey, there he is. Start the car, start the car.
SYDNEY: No, you wait 'til he's a block away.
FRANCIE: Look at you getting all into it.
SYDNEY: Everyone knows you wait.
FRANCIE: I don't know you wait.
SYDNEY: You wait.
FRANCIE: What's he doing?
(A car pulls up beside Charlie, its horn honking. Charlie walks over to the driver's side. A blonde woman gets out, and hugs him. They kiss briefly. Sydney looks at Francie. Charlie puts his duffel bag in the girl's trunk. Francie looks devastated.)
FRANCIE: Okay. I guess he's not going to law review.

(Will's office. He's on the phone, sitting at his desk. Jenny stands nearby.)
WILL: H-E-C-H-T. You're certain? Okay. Thank you. I promise, I won't call again. (hangs up) Danny was supposed to be registered at a medical conference in Singapore.
JENNY: You already told me. Litvack wants the baptist church copy.
WILL: But I checked all the conferences twice. He's not registered at any of them.
JENNY: I know...
(His phone rings.)
WILL: Will Tippin.
(Sydney's at her house, watering plants.)
SYDNEY: Hey, it's me.
WILL: Hey. Hi. Uh, how'd your trip go?
SYDNEY: Okay. How are you?
WILL: Good. Uh, uh, busy. Listen, you don't feel weird about what happened, right?
SYDNEY: A little.
WILL: Me too. What is that?
SYDNEY: We'll talk about that later. Listen, Francie and I saw Charlie last night with another woman.
WILL: What? You're kidding.
SYDNEY: Yeah. She spent the night at my place. She's here now, she's sort of a mess.
WILL: Oh, God...
SYDNEY: And the bank called. Uh, I might have another trip.
WILL: You take an insane amount of trips.
SYDNEY: Would you mind dropping by later? Just check on her and make sure she's okay.
WILL: No, yeah, yeah, yeah, of course.
SYDNEY: Thank you. I should go.
WILL: Okay. Go. I'll talk to you later. Bye.
(He hangs up. Jenny stands there, watching.)
JENNY: That was Sydney. You're different when you talk to Sydney.
WILL: Don't analyze me. Go. Can you get me the number of, uh, the guy who works for the airport? What's his name? Luis Scourza? What?
JENNY: If you want me to do something for you, you say please.
WILL: Please. Scourza, okay? You know, "please" is implicit, Jenny!

(Credit Dauphine. Sydney is at her desk, filing something. She sees her dad walking through. She gets up.)
SYDNEY: Dad. You have a meeting with Sloane?
MR. BRISTOW: McCullough.
SYDNEY: Psych evaluation?
MR. BRISTOW: Routine. It's nothing I'm not used to, nothing I look forward to, but, uh, such is the nature of the job.
SYDNEY: So, Berlin. It worked out. My meeting with K-Directorate. We got the code. That was smart.
MR. BRISTOW: Well, I should go. I'll see you later.
SYDNEY: Dad... could we have dinner? How about Thursday, do you have plans?
MR. BRISTOW: No. Thursday. Dinner. That'll be fine.

(Board meeting. Sloane, Russett, Dixon, Sydney, Marshall.)
SLOANE: Analysis is working full-time on the piece you brought back from Spain. This is not glass. They know that. It's a synthetic polymer. They believe it was made at least five hundred years ago.
DIXON: Before there were synthetic polymers.
SLOANE: And so the mystery continues. Meanwhile, we have another situation. This is last year's United Commerce Organization. Administerial conference. A number of groups led planned attacks against the proceedings. Zero defense among them. Word is they're planning to attend the conference this year in Sao Paulo.
RUSSETT: Luc Jacqnoud should be landing in Morocco within the next forty-eight hours.
SYDNEY: I thought he was in Le Sante for stabbing a police officer.
RUSSETT: Released twenty-six months early. He's obviously got ties to French justice. Intel reports he'll be in Morocco to meet a client.
DIXON: I.D. on the client?
SLOANE: None. That's your job. You're Kate Jones, and Justin Bernell. You're traveling with Mindspring Learning Tours. You arrive on Wednesday. Your objective is to monitor the meeting, I.D. the client, and make sure whatever Jacqnoud is up to, doesn't happen.
SYDNEY: Is Mochtar the contact?
SLOANE: He's meeting you at the airport. (to Russett) This is an Egyptian commando. We recruited him two years ago. Marshall.
MARSHALL: (standing) Okay. Ahem. How is, uh, everyone? Hi, or -- right. Okay. You're going in with the usual tech -- camera, comm gear, and sat relay, but this-this is new. (holds up a purse) Now, this looks just like a normal purse that you would wear out with going out with your lady friends. Put your feminine things in there, but, a parabolic microphone. (points to center of the design) Has a laser transmitter that works in a three hundred yard radius, and oh, and I also added a low frequency tantalum wind filter that will eliminate any unwanted sounds below a hundred and fifty hertz. Not that you're going to be in any wind. I mean, you're probably not going to be in any wind, but let's say that you were in some wind, you know, like a light breeze, like a (whistles). Or even a strong wind, like, a gust, like a (blowing air). This? Nothing. Silent. Wind filter. (sits)

(Inside psych evaluation room. Mr. Bristow has pads over his face for monitoring purposes. Machines beep around him. McCullough sits nearby.)
MCCULLOUGH: You feel light, thin air, and as you continue moving downward, you feel more and more relaxed. The escalator continues down and the closer you get to the light, the more relaxed you feel.
(We see inside Jack's mind. An escalator.)
MCCULLOUGH: (voice over) The escalator seems to continue forever, and you feel safe and relaxed.
(White light. In Jack's mind, we're transported to a baby's room. A crib sits in the corner with a stuffed teddy bear.)
MCCULLOUGH: (V.O.) Still listening to my voice, you keep going and the farther you go, the more comfortable you feel.
(A woman is holding a baby gently in her arms. We're assuming it's Jack's wife, Sydney's mom. Suddenly, the woman turns and it's... Sydney. Holding the baby.)
SYDNEY: It's only a matter of time before I find out the truth.
(In the evaluation room, Mr. Bristow snaps to attention, looking terrified.)
MCCULLOUGH: Jack?
MR. BRISTOW: Just give me a minute, will you?
(He pulls the pads off his face and exits. Outside the room, he desperately tries to control himself. He calmly buttons his jacket.)

(Car wash. Sydney is inside the waiting area while her car gets a washing. Vaughn approaches, looking disheveled. Well, more than usual.)
VAUGHN: Sorry I'm late.
SYDNEY: That's all right. You okay?
VAUGHN: Yeah. Turns out we knew Jacqnoud was traveling, but we thought he was going to Bahrain. But what we don't know is why SD-6 is so interested in the U.C.O.
SYDNEY: You sure you're okay?
VAUGHN: Yeah. I just, uh--
SYDNEY: Did you have a fight with your wife?
VAUGHN: My what?
SYDNEY: Your wife.
VAUGHN: What wife? I have no wife.
SYDNEY: No, there was a picture in your office. You and that woman. I thought you were married.
VAUGHN: No. She and I are not remotely m-- You thought I was married this whole time?
SYDNEY: I guess so. What's the big deal?
VAUGHN: Nothing. So when you get an idea on who he's meeting and/or details of that meeting, just call the usual number. Hit the eight key. We'll dead-drop in the trash can. Why did you ask me if I had a fight with my girlfriend?
SYDNEY: I don't know. Did you?
VAUGHN: Huge. Good luck in Morocco.
SYDNEY: Thanks.
(He leaves, looking more stressed than before.)

(Morocco. At the airport, Sydney and Dixon walk to the curb. They see a man, Mochtar, who waves to them. They approach.)
MOCHTAR: Look at you!
SYDNEY: It's been a while!
(She kisses him on both cheeks.)
MOCHTAR: Ah, hello!
DIXON: How have you been?
MOCHTAR: Lately, too busy. Too many people with dangerous toys.
SYDNEY: Any news on Jacqnoud?
M0CHTAR: Yes. A friend tells me he's meeting a client today in the local marketplace. I've got a good spot for us.
DIXON: Any word on the client?
MOCHTAR: Big mystery. We still don't know. Come, I'm parked right over there.

(Sydney's house. Francie talks on the phone to Sydney.)
FRANCIE: Charlie has called my cell phone six times.
SYDNEY: You still haven't seen him?
FRANCIE: No. I want him to suffer. I'm not even going to tell him where I am. How is Chicago, did you get there okay?
(Cut to Sydney, in Morocco, putting on her disguise.)
SYDNEY: Yeah. Chicago's fine. Look, let me just sy one thing, just so someone's saying it. There might be an explanation.
FRANCIE: He got into a car with a woman I have never met.
SYDNEY: Just talk to him. Tell Charlie what you saw. You owe him that.
FRANCIE: Maybe after he calls me a few more times.
SYDNEY: Call me if you need me, okay? Love you.
FRANCIE: Love you.

(Sydney, complete in her disguise, goes out to the balcony to see Mochtar and Dixon setting up video cameras and cameras for the op.)
SYDNEY: How's the view? (takes purse) You want to give this a test run? Can you hear me?
DIXON: Loud and clear.
MOCHTAR: Jacqnoud just walked in.
DIXON: Who's he with?
M0CHTAR: Uh, looks like he's solo.
DIXON: (to Sydney) You're ready.
SYDNEY: I'm going shoppin'!
DIXON: Bring us back something, would you?
SYDNEY: That's the plan!
(She leaves and walks down to the market, looking around. She gets closer. Jacqnoud sits alone.)
SYDNEY: Are you picking this up?
DIXON: Yeah. The mic's hot.
SYDNEY: He's still alone.
(A man tries to sell her something.)
SYDNEY: No, no, no, I don't understand. Don't understand. Sorry.
(Jacqnoud greets a man at his table.)
SYDNEY: The meet just got here.
(In the balcony, Mochtar and Dixon looks. Dixon takes pictures.)
DIXON: Got him! Mochtar, you know this guy?
MOCHTAR: No, but I'm going to try and get an I.D. right now.
(Mochtar runs to another set up around the hallway. The laptop connects, scanning the picture for identification of the man meeting with Jacqnoud.)

(Downstairs, the men meet.)
SUARI: Nice to finally meet you in person. Everything worked getting here?
JACQNOUD: Yes, thank you. Merci beaucoup.
SUARI: So, how are we doing?
JACQNOUD: You mean phase three?
SUARI: What were the results?
JACQNOUD: You will be very happy. If Patel's going to be our delivery man, I'll need the piece by tomorrow.
SUARI: As long as the financial arrangements can be made, that shouldn't be a problem.
JACQNOUD: Bon. Salut.
(The bodyguard stares at Sydney. She looks away.)
SYDNEY: Dammit! The litle guy's bodyguard. I know him.
DIXON: What?
SYDNEY: From Corisca, two years ago. The son of a bitch broke my arm.
(She starts walking away. The bodyguard looks up, and sees the camera lens in the balcony.)
DIXON: Mochtar, pack up! We've got to get out of here!
(The bodyguard sees shadows scurrying along up on the balcony.)
SYDNEY: (walking) We have somebody.
(Sydney tries to leave.)
DIXON: Syd, get out of there!
(The bodyguard stops her.)
BODYGUARD: You. I know you.
SYDNEY: I'm sorry. You're talking to me?
BODYGUARD: I think you remember me, too.
(He throws her in a small part of the market, she falls to the ground behind the curtain. He advances.)
SYDNEY: I'm sorry. I don't know who you are.
BODYGUARD: Tell me why you're here, or this time I do more than just break you arm.
(Sydney kicks a table in the air, catches it, throws it at him, smashes his head in twice. He pushes her up against the wall, she flips off of it. Kicks him in the back. Hits him with an empty pot three times. He falls. The curtain opens, and an elderly couple -- tourists -- walk in, shocked.)
SYDNEY: He wanted to charge me fifty dollars. That's too much.

(Upstairs, Dixon frantically packs up. Gunshots are heard. Dixon freezes. Sydney runs up the stairs.)
SYDNEY: Dixon! Dixon! Dixon, do you copy!
(Sydney stops running when she sees Mochtar's lifeless body. She takes off her glasses. Down the hall, punches are being thrown as more bodyguards try beating up Dixon and Sydney. She fights one of the men. Another guy manages to pin Dixon down on a table, but he jumps up, kicking the man.)
DIXON: Are you okay?
SYDNEY: I'm fine!
(Helicopter whirring overhead. Sydney gets some of the gear and stops at Mochtar. Touches his head. When she takes her hand away, she sees his blood on her palm. Dixon stops behind her.)
DIXON: We have to go.
(Sydney stares at Mochtar, and leaves.)

(At Sydney's house, she arrives home from her trip. She puts her bag down.)
FRANCIE: Hey.
SYDNEY: Hi.
FRANCIE: How was your trip?
SYDNEY: It was awful.
FRANCIE: Syd, I'm sorry.
SYDNEY: What's going on with Charlie?
FRANCIE: I'm meeting him for coffee. He knows something's up. If he doesn't have an explanation, if he can't exactly explain why he was kissing some whore instead of going to law review, I'm going to kill him.
SYDNEY: Don't say that.
(Will appears behind them.)
WILL: She's on a rampage. She wasn't even going to go out with him, I had to force her to go out with him. (smiles sweetly at Sydney) Hi.
SYDNEY: Hi.
FRANCIE: Let me ask you something. You think it's going to go all right?
SYDNEY: I do.
(The girls hug. Only this time, Sydney hugs a little longer, needing that comfort after the day she's had.)
FRANCIE: Love you.
SYDNEY: Love you.
FRANCIE: See you, Will!
WILL: Good luck. Let me get that for you.
(He gestures to Sydney's luggage. Francie leaves.)
SYDNEY: Thanks.
WILL: You look exhausted.
SYDNEY: Pretty good assessment.

(Inside Sydney's bedroom, Will sits down on her bed with the luggage at his feet.)
WILL: So, hey, I was thinking about what happened. You know, that, uh, you know, that kiss. Yeah. And, uh, I think I've figured out why it was so weird.
SYDNEY: Why?
WILL: Well, because, how often do you, you know, do you kiss someone that you're that close to? I mean, never.
(He flips the luggage tag that reads "Kate Jones" in his hand as a nervous habit, not realizing the name that's written there.)
WILL: Anyway, I, uh, I know that it's awkward between us now, but...
(Sydney sits beside him, seeing what he's doing, and takes the luggage from him.)
WILL: I think that I've figured out a way for it to not be so awkward anymore.
SYDNEY: What?
(Will kisses her, holding her face gently. Their eyes slowly open. It's awkward. He pulls away.)
WILL: Okay. That didn't work, did it?
SYDNEY: I have to go have dinner with my father.
WILL: Ooooh, now I feel like an idiot.
SYDNEY: No, don't, don't.
WILL: (embarrassed) Oh, my God. I have that feeling. Oh, my God.

(Restaurant. Sydney sits alone.)
WAITER: Would you like to order, ma'am?
SYDNEY: I'll wait, thanks. I'm meeting someone.
(Sydney looks at her watch.)

(Different restaurant. Francie and Charlie.)
CHARLIE: (to waiter) Thank you. (sighs) So, you gonna tell me what's up? Do I have to start guessing?
FRANCIE: I saw you.
CHARLIE: Saw me what?
FRANCIE: I saw you outside our house with a woman.
CHARLIE: What are you doing watching me?
FRANCIE: I don't have to answer that question, you do! What were you doing?
CHARLIE: She's a friend.
FRANCIE: A friend you went out with instead of going to a law review. Her name's Rachel, right?
CHARLIE: (to waiter) No, thanks. (to Francie) You know I trust you.
FRANCIE: I give you reason to! I am not going to let you lie to me, Charlie! Now, explain yourself.
CHARLIE: Francie, I love you, and I'm not playing around. We're just hanging out, that's all.
FRANCIE: All right. Hang out. Hang out with Rachel.
(She leaves.)

(Sydney waits at the restaurant. Looks around. Looks at the menu, puts it down. Still waiting. She's getting more worried. She looks at her watch. Her cell phone rings.)
SYDNEY: Hello?
MR. BRISTOW: Sydney. Sorry to call so late.
SYDNEY: No, it's all right.
MR. BRISTOW: Uh, look, uh, I won't be able to make dinner. Work is, uh, just, um, I can't get away. You understand.
SYDNEY: Of course. Don't worry about it.
(We see that Mr. Bristow is actually in his car, at the restaurant, watching Sydney.)
SYDNEY: I'll just see you at... I'll just see you.
MR. BRISTOW: Okay. Bye. (hangs up)
(Sydney hangs up, choking down tears. She covers her mouth. She then picks up her phone, and dials.)

(Pier, night. Sydney and Vaughn.)
SYDNEY: (sobbing) I'm sorry to call you, I just didn't know who else to call. My father and I were supposed to have dinner tonight. The first time since I was a kid. I can't even remember the last time. (sobs) He just didn't show. He said he had work. He didn't have work. This isn't just about my dad. When I was in Morocco, the man who died... he was a friend of mine. He was a good man, who thought he was fighting for the right side, that he was working for the C.I.A.! He was lied to, and now he's dead. I had his blood on my hands!
VAUGHN: Sydney...
SYDNEY: I feel like I'm losing my mind! Like I don't even know who I am anymore, or what I'm doing, or why I'm doing it!
(Her pager suddenly beeps. Sydney grabs it, and throws it in the water below them. It splashes.)
VAUGHN: You just threw your beeper in the Pacific.
SYDNEY: (laughs through tears) I know...
VAUGHN: Okay, listen to me. There's something you need to know. When you first walked into my office with that stupid Bozo hair, I thought you were crazy. I thought you might actually be a crazy person. But I watched you, and I read your statement, and I've seen... I've seen how you think, I've seen how you work, I've seen how you are in this job. In this job, you see darkness. You see the worst in people and though the jobs are different and the missions change, and the enemies have a thousand names, the one crucial thing, the one real responsibility you have is to not let your rage, and your resentment, and your disgust, darken you. When you're at your absolute lowest, at your most depressed, just remember that you can always... you know. You got my number.
(A few seconds pass. Sydney grabs Vaughn's hand, and holds on tight.)

(Credit Dauphine, the next day.)
SLOANE: I put the recording you made through voice print. The man that Jacqnoud is meeting with is Malik Suari. He specializes in industrial demolition. This is his latest innovation. It's called the Blu-250. Commissioned by a Swiss corporation to blow out mountain ranges for the production of high speed trains. There's a third piece. You will be very happy.
(They play the recording Sydney took.)
SLOANE: Now, of course, the man they're referring to is Dhiren Patel.
DIXON: You think the winner of the Edgar Peace Prize is working with Luc Jacqnoud?
SLOANE: Dhiren Patel is India's delegate to the U.N., he's a former president of the southern hemisphere. Human rights commission. There's no way in the world he's working with Jacqnoud.
SYDNEY: So, then, what's the connection?
SLOANE: Irony. Jacqnoud is using Mr. Patel without his knowledge to send a message to the U.C.O.
DIXON: Which is what?
SLOANE: To abolish the organization. We've traced at least a half a dozen threats to Jacqnoud. This has it that this last act will be his most violent.
SYDNEY: You think Jacqnoud is going to plant an explosive on Patel?
SLOANE: Yes, I do. And I want you two to stop it. That's why you're leaving for Sao Paulo tonight. The job is to find Patel, recover the weapon, and safeguard the U.C.O. Any questions?

(Sao Paulo. At a party, Dixon looks around, wearing a tux.)
DIXON: Any luck?
(Pan over to Sydney, dressed in disguise.)
SYDNEY: I don't see Patel anywhere.

(At Will's office, he's on the phone. Jenny stands nearby.)
WILL: Oh, and that's unusual, buying an international flight with cash. Uh-huh. But he was traveling alone, right? Excuse me? Daniel Hecht was not traveling alone?

(Sydney mingles, looks around. Patel enters.)
SYDNEY: I have a twenty on Patel.
DIXON: Let's get him out of here.
(Patel wipes sweat from his head, motions to his bodyguards that he's suddenly ill.)
SYDNEY: Wait. Something's wrong. He looks sick.
DIXON: Sick?
(Patel collapses.)
SYDNEY: He just went down.
DIXON: Does he have a drink?
SYDNEY: Yes.
DIXON: Get the glass.
(Sydney walks over to where Patel has collapsed. Some people surround him, checking if he's okay. She crouches down near Patel's fallen hand, where he's holding his drink.)
SYDNEY: Is he okay? Did somebody call a doctor?
(She takes the glass, stands, and drops it into Dixon's hand, who walks by.)
MAN: Excuse me, I'm a doctor. Can I help?
(The man kneels down. Suari stands in the background, takes a drink, watching with interest.)
SYDNEY: Guess who's here?
(Dixon exits the party, and goes into the stairwell, still holding Patel's drink.)
DIXON: Suari.
(He puts something in the drink, shakes the glass a little.)
DIXON: I'm telling you, if they're bombing this place, it's going to be tomorrow. Opening ceremonies.
(Dixon holds the glass up to the light. Patel's drink turns blue.)
DIXON: They fed Patel some kind of powdered sedative compound. Looks like a designer drug.
(Out at the party near the curb, people stand around, watching Patel enter an ambulance.)
DIXON: Keep an eye on Suari.
(The ambulance drives away. Sydney sees a brand new motorcycle parked.)
SYDNEY: I'm following Patel.

(Will's office, continuing.)
WILL: Just confirm something for me. The person traveling with Daniel Hecht, the name was Sydney Bristow, right? No? Are you sure? Okay, man, you g