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Transmissão .::. Transcripts .::. Terceira Temporada .::. #3.06 The Nemesis

Thanks to RocknVaughn at SD-1.

(Fade to black. Cut to rolling coastline of beach houses. Cut to Sydney running through a park. This is not a leisurely run. She looks more as if she’s pushing herself, perhaps running from the demons in her life. She slows and stops, removing headphones from her ears and bending over to take a drink from a water fountain.)

Sloane (voiceover): Hello, Sydney.

(Sydney looks up, shocked. Cut to see Sloane standing ten feet away from her.)

Sydney: What do you want?

(She switches off her walkman radio. Sloane walks toward her, clutching a small bottle of water in his hand.)

Sloane: The Covenant is about to make a move.

Sydney: If you have some intel, protocol is you pass it through Lauren Reed. She’s your handler.

Sloane: Well, Ms. Reed is very able, but I’m afraid she can’t possibly comprehend the intricacies of serving two masters simultaneously. You were brilliant at it. Why, you would walk into my office, look me in the eyes…and lie to me. (He nods.) For me to succeed in my new work as a double agent for the Covenant, I’ll need your help.

Sydney: Your needs don’t concern me.

Sloane: You’ll find the details on toureurope.eu. It’s encoded in a photo of the Vatican. The password is “Credit Dauphine”…for old time’s sake.

(Sydney looks away slightly, arms crossed impatiently.)

Sydney: Clever.

(Sloane takes a swig from his water bottle, then dries his mouth with the back of his hand.)

Sloane: Hmm… I miss LA. I miss Emily. I miss the friendship with your father. (sighs) I miss your confidence and trust. Perhaps, I can get it back someday?

Sydney: You will never have my confidence and trust…or my father’s friendship and respect…ever.

(Sloane just studies Sydney and then smirks slightly as if she’s just said something funny.)

(Cut to Vaughn dressed in full hockey gear, minus helmet, at the rink, skating hard across the ice surface.)

Weiss (voiceover): You don’t want any of “Weiss on Ice”… Come on, buddy!

(Vaughn takes a shot that goes right by Weiss, dressed in full goalie gear.)

Weiss: All right, I wasn’t ready! Wait ‘til I say the words, “I’m ready.”

(Vaughn lines up about 15 feet away from Weiss and shoots four pucks (wristshots) in quick succession at him. Weiss protests between each one.)

Weiss: Whoa!… Hey!…Hey!!…Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!…. Dude, what’s the matter with you?

(Vaughn, skating backwards, resetting for more shots. His voice is brooding.)

Vaughn: Nothing.

(Vaughn takes another shot, which Weiss catches in his catching glove. He tosses it back out on the ice toward Vaughn.)

Weiss: My brother used to do this.

Vaughn (skating about restlessly): Do what?

Weiss: Shut down like you’re doin’. Get all quiet and ‘tough guy’.

Vaughn (taking another shot): That’s not what I’m doing.

(Vaughn goes back to skating restlessly.)

Weiss: Yeah, he’d deny it, too. Then he’d brood and get…mopey, like you’re doin’. Finally, it got too much for him…he’d have to come around and tell me what the problem was…

(Vaughn stops skating and lets out a large impatient sigh.)

Vaughn: It’s been three weeks since I learned that Sydney murdered Lazarey…I’ve been lying to my wife for three weeks.

Weiss: Vaughn, I know guys who’ve lied to their wives for a lot longer than that…

(Vaughn gives Weiss a dirty look.)

Vaughn: You understand that the reason your brother didn’t like talking to you is because you say stupid things, right?

(Vaughn fires an annoyed slapshot off the boards to the right (from Vaughn’s angle) of the goal. It makes a loud noise and skitters away.)

Weiss: Listen… you were ordered not to say anything, right? This isn’t your choice!

Vaughn: Yeah, and she was ordered to figure out who murdered Lazarey… I mean, that’s my point. I’m actively engaged in preventing her from doing her job. (He shakes his head and sighs with frustration again.) She’s gonna find out, I mean, you know she is…

(Weiss nods with a little sigh.)

Weiss: …and that you’re protecting Sydney…

Vaughn: Yeah…See where I’m going with this?

Weiss: Well…This is why people from the CIA should not get married to people from the NSC, man. Don’t poop where you sleep…

(This response is not what Vaughn is looking for; it only irritates him more.)

Vaughn: …Thanks a lot…

(Vaughn fires a wicked slapshot right at Weiss’ right pad. It connects…hard…and Weiss collapses to his knees in the net as Vaughn skates off.)

Weiss: Oh!….Okay….You know what? That hurts…

(Cut to evening scene of a narrow European street. STRASSBURG. Cut to a dark nondescript van driving down the street. Cut to a Covenant member, not one we’ve seen before, holding out a manila envelope.)

Member: This is where Lang will be…

(Cut to Sark, taking the envelope.)

Sark: I’ll take care of it.

Member: It must be done a certain way. There’s an…a…extraction required.

Sark: I assume you’ve stepped out the details…

Member: Yeah, your partner’s been briefed.

Sark: My partner!?…I don’t think so.

Member: This is not a request…

Sark: Look, if you don’t trust me by now…perhaps you should be in business with someone else…and you can tell that to San’ko.

(The Member just laughs as an unamused Sark looks on. Cut to an overhead aerial view of downtown LA by day. Cut to the JTF Conference room.)

Dixon: We’ve logged on to Tour Europe and downloaded Sloane’s intel. The Covenant is after a device that will give them access to Russia’s strategic arsenal. It was designed by this man (shows a picture on screen), Robert Lang, hardware engineer for a German security firm.

Jack: Lang was approached by someone posing as a Russian defense official. They contracted him to design a test for security flaws in their nuclear command and controls system.

Marshall: This guy Lang created this really…cool…device. Basically, take it to any missile silo in all of Russia and it interfaces with the launch control console, bypasses all security protocols: initiation codes, the commander’s launch key…irrelevant.

Sydney: It’s a skeleton key for Russia’s nuclear weapons?

Marshall: Yeah…and to be honest, I’m just a little bit jealous…

Lauren: Did they ever deliver it to the Covenant?

Jack: No. He discovered that the man who hired him wasn’t actually Russian defense, at which point, Lang went on the run to prevent the Covenant from getting what he’d invented.

Dixon: This is a picture of what he used to look like. (Nods to picture still up on monitor.)

Jack: According to Sloane’s intel, Lang has surgically altered his appearance to hide from the Covenant.

Dixon: We know that tomorrow night Lang is scheduled to meet this man (picture flashes up on screen) Heinrich Strauss at the Club Delphi in Milan. He’s picking up new identity papers.

Jack: Remember, Sloane’s intel came from the Covenant, so obviously…they’re looking to grab Lang…and this skeleton key.

Dixon: Sydney and Vaughn…you need to get to Lang before the Covenant does. You leave tonight. Marshall will go over op tech. Lauren, Sydney…I need a moment. (They wait while the others file from the room. Dixon approaches them.) Given the current situation, I need to make a change. (Dixon looks at Sydney.) I want you to take over as Sloane’s handler.

Sydney (speechless for a moment and then): No, I’m sorry that is not a good idea.

Lauren: While it’s not my favorite part of the job, can I ask why I’m being replaced?

Dixon: It’s not an indictment. It’s that Sydney is more familiar with the players…

(Sydney gives a confused look at Lauren and then to Dixon.)

Sydney: What players? There’s Sloane and Sark…that’s it.

Dixon: No. There’s another. (pause while realization starts to dawn on Sydney’s face) Sydney…Allison Doren is alive.

(Pain and shock appears on Sydney’s face. She looks away. Then she looks up and asks in disbelief)

Sydney: She’s alive?

(Cut to the back of a van door opening and Sark being shoved out of it by the Covenant member he’d been talking to. Sark turns around to look at the man.)

Member: You can thank me later…

(He closes the door. As the van starts to drive away, Sark turns around. Cut to a closeup shot of a high heeled shoe as it steps out from an open car door. We watch the door shut and the shoes walk toward Sark. The camera pans up: Black high heels, black stockings, black miniskirt, black jacket. The woman is walking toward Sark (The camera is behind her.) Cut to Sark’s reaction. His eyes widen in complete shock. Cut to who he’s looking at. It’s Allison Doren stopping in front of him. She leans in to kiss him, and then)

Allison: You look like you’ve seen a ghost.

(Cut to black. Alias theme. End of Act One.)

(Cut to an external view of what is apparently a European hotel at night. Cut and pan across a bedside table to Sark and Allison in bed, apparently naked. Sark is spooned behind Allison.)

Sark: I truly thought you were dead the last two years. You’ll have to start at the beginning…or the end, after the last time I saw you…

Allison: Will Tippin discovered what had happened…that his girlfriend had been killed and I’d been doubled to take her place.

(Flashback to the beginning of the fight scene between Allison and Will, when she tries to strangle him.)

Allison (voiceover): He had to be eliminated.

(Cut back to Allison and Sark in bed.)

Sark: What happened with Bristow? When the Covenant found you, you were both unconscious.

Allison: I can only remember that in bits and pieces. (Flashback to the scenes from “The Telling” of the fight as she speaks). She came home…I realized that she knew…she aimed the gun at me…(cut back to the present) The next thing I remember, it was three weeks later and I woke up in a Covenant run hospital outside of Marseilles. Took me six months to fully recover. I’ve been working for them ever since.

Sark: Were you behind them extracting me from the CIA?

Allison: I wish I could claim credit for that. I only learned you were working for us recently.

Sark: My tenure began shortly after my father’s murder. They freed me in exchange for my inheritance.

Allison: Who killed your father?

Sark: I don’t know…but I intend to find out.

(Allison turns in bed, her back more to Sark now. He fingers her shoulder.)

Sark: Bristow should have to pay for these scars… (Sark leans down and kisses her shoulder, presumably on her scars)

Allison: She will.

(Allison turns and Sark kisses her.)

(Cut to an aerial view of the Observatory.)

Lauren (voiceover): I’m no longer Sloane’s handler. Dixon gave that job to Sydney Bristow. (We see on Lauren’s face that this still bothers her.)

(Cut to Lauren sitting next to Lindsay on a bench. They aren’t looking at each other, almost as if they are meeting secretly.)

Lindsay: Good. That frees you up to focus on the Lazarey murder. We have a source working inside the Russian government who’s agreed to help us out.

Lauren: They have the assassin’s identity?

Lindsay: Not yet. But apparently they hold information that could lead us to it.

Lauren: Then why aren’t they using it? Lazarey was a Russian diplomat. You’d think they’d want that answer more than any of us…

Lindsay: The Covenant doesn’t want anyone to know they’re behind the assassination.

Lauren: And your source believes their reach extends so far within the Russian government that they can make that happen.

Lindsay: You leave tonight. Any leak, and our source could be compromised…and killed. That means no one at the CIA can know about this, including your husband.

(Lauren reacts to this news. The dread forms in her eyes and she sighs heavily and looks away. She’s not looking forward to having to lie to Vaughn.)

(Cut to two open suitcases on a bed. Slowly pan upward to see Vaughn packing. He’s dressed in only a dark pair of pants. His boxer shorts peek out the top of the waistband, and what looks like it could be a gauze bandage can barely be seen under that. He puts a shirt inside his suitcase.)

Vaughn: Vienna…

Lauren: I know…surprised me, too…
(Lauren walks out from presumably the bathroom carrying some clothing, crosses behind Vaughn, around the side of the bed to the opposite side. She’s dressed in skimpy black bra and panties and black high heels. She drops a black dress into the other suitcase and starts slipping her legs inside a black skirt.)

Vaughn (continuing to pack): For how long?

Lauren: Oh, you know how they go…it’s a NATO security briefing. Two days at the most.

(I must mention here that even though Lauren is barely dressed, Vaughn barely even looks at her. I don’t know if that is supposed to mean anything here, but I mentioned it just in case it does.)

(Vaughn looks up at Lauren suspiciously. There’s a touch of doubt on his face. He’s not sure he believes her.)

Vaughn (pauses, then): I’m surprised Lindsay reassigned you to cover a briefing…

(Lauren sits down on the bed. From our angle, we can see she’s nervous and bothered about having to lie.)

Lauren (slightly breathless, trying to sound cheerful): I know…but he said he needs me there…couldn’t exactly say no, could I?

(Lauren bends forward a little; we see her grimace. She plays with her earring nervously. Vaughn gives her back another look of almost betrayal…as if he knows she’s lying.)

Lauren (in a quiet voice): What about Milan?

(Cut to Vaughn slipping on a navy blue button down shirt. His face says he’s hurt that she’s lying to him, because he knows she is. He plays with the collar of his shirt and starts to button it.)

Vaughn: Should be a quick turnaround. Be back in a day.

(Lauren turns her head to the side and then stands up to face Vaughn.)

Lauren: When we get back…when we’re done with this…

(Vaughn looks up to meet her eyes. He’s tense; we can see it in the way his jaw is set.)

Lauren: …we need to go away.

(Vaughn gives her a tiny knowing smile.)

Vaughn: The desert?

Lauren (shaking her head): Anywhere…

(They lock eyes. Vaughn smiles a little and then the smile fades slightly as he continues to stare at her.)

(Cut to a car driving away from us behind a row of warehouses. MOSCOW. Cut to Lauren and the contact inside one of the warehouses talking in hushed tones.)

Lauren: My superior indicated, Mr. Tipucoff, that you have some information for us.

Tipucoff: How does a British woman become an American spy?

Lauren: I’m not a spy. And though I grew up in London, I was born in the United States. Now that you know my life story, I have some questions myself. Your government’s running a probe into this. I would think you’d want to bring closure to your own investigation. Why come to us?

Tipucoff: I already explained this to your superiors.

Lauren: I want to hear it for myself.

Tipucoff: Andrean and I were, um…colleagues, since our time together at St. Petersburg University.

Lauren: I’m sorry.

Tipucoff: I have for… some time now, suspected the existence of a mole whom I believe is still loyal to the Covenant. (pulls his hand out of his pocket and hands Lauren a digital recorder) This is a file of digital recordings, which chronicles hundreds of phone calls made or received by our deceased diplomat, Andrean Lazarey. Perhaps the murderer can be traced to one of these calls. I trust that you see that justice is done for my murdered comrade.

(He starts to walk away.)

Lauren: Where can I contact you?

(Tipucoff turns and looks back.)

Tipucoff: You can’t. We never had this conversation.

(Tipucoff walks away. Cut to black.)

(MILAN. Push through the A. An overhead shot of a streetcorner at dusk. Cut to Vaughn, in black leather jacket, holding a Palm Pilot in what is apparently their surveillance van. Vaughn speaks louder than normal, as if speaking to someone in another room.)

Vaughn (playful, joking): So that camera that Marshall gave us is a miniaturized X-ray camera…What do you want to bet this thing’s leaking radiation?

(Cut to a sliding curtain door as it opens. Sydney emerges in costume: Chin length flip hairdo, blonde on top with dark hair underneath the top layer; 60’s style white sequin minidress and calf high white go-go boots, topped with a white suede coat with a fur collar. She steps out. He looks up at her, smile still touching at the corners of his mouth. His eyes widen as the smile slips off his face. His mouth gapes open slightly and he leans back in his chair, unable to stop staring at her. Sydney breaks eye contact first and looks away uncomfortably.)

Sydney: So…we’re looking for Lang…

(Vaughn takes the subtle hint and gets back in game mode. He looks away momentarily and then back, more in game mode.)

Vaughn: Yeah…the camera’s supposed to ID his plastic surgery.

(Sydney walks over and sits next to Vaughn as he continues to explain.)

Vaughn: It’ll transmit images back to my PDA that Marshall programmed to identify fractures, scar tissue, implants…anyone who’s been under the knife.

(Sydney looks down at her lap. She appears troubled. This doesn’t escape Vaughn’s notice.)

Vaughn: You okay?

(Sydney looks up, meets his eyes.)

Sydney: Mmmhmmm.

(Vaughn looks down, playing with the PDA.)

Vaughn (not looking at Sydney): Is it Allison?

(He looks up at her. He knows.)

Sydney: Since I learned that she’s alive…I keep wondering…Does she still look like her? Does she look like Francie?

(Vaughn continues to meet her eyes, his understanding and empathy plain.)

Sydney: Because if she does? As much as I know I should keep her alive to maybe try to figure out the last two years of my life? All I’ll wanna do…is kill her.

(Their eyes meet.)

(Cut to Francie, dressed in black, apparently on the rooftop of the club. Sark walks toward her, handing her an envelope.)

Sark: Heinrich Strauss…he’s the man providing Lang with identity papers. As we speak, he’s getting drunk in the club.

Allison: I’ll keep an eye on him.

(Cut to Vaughn, picking up the necklace that Marshall made for the op.)

Vaughn: The camera’s in the stone.

(He holds the necklace out.)

Sydney (quietly): Do you mind?

Vaughn (just as quietly): No.

(Cut to closeup on Sydney’s fingers unbuttoning her coat to slip it off her shoulders. We see the pendant appear on the front of her dress and then pull up. The camera pans upward to Sydney’s face as Vaughn’s hand rests against her shoulder as he does up the clasp of the necklace. It brings back memories for her. Slide over to Vaughn’s face. He’s just as affected by the moment, if not more. He pulls his hands away slowly and just as slowly pulls the fur collar back into place. Sydney looks down sadly.)

Sydney (barely above a whisper): Thank you.

(Cut to Allison pulling on fingerless leather gloves. She opens a soft case, exposing a sniper rifle. She locks a silencer in place, lifts the rifle to look down the telescoping sight. She locks a clip in place and cocks it. She zips up her black leather jacket and says, apparently to Sark…)

Allison: Let’s go.

(Cut to Sydney’s go-go boot. She pulls aside her ankle length coat, exposing the calf high boots, wide expanse of leg, and a gun harness strapped on her upper thigh. She slips a pistol inside it, saying)

Sydney: Let’s go.

(Cut to inside the club, pan down from the ceiling to Sydney as she begins to work the crowd.

Vaughn (voiceover, on comms): Okay, we’re looking for someone with massive facial reconstruction. Lang’s about 5’ 10”, 170 pounds.

(Cut to a closeup of the necklace.)

Sydney (voiceover): How’s the camera working?

Vaughn (on comms): Video’s linking up now.

(Cut to view of video coming up on Vaughn’s PDA. Cut to Vaughn on a balcony above the dance floor, surveying the scene.)

Vaughn: Signal strength’s at 100%.

(Cut to view from above of Sydney making her way to the bar counter.)

Sydney (voiceover): I’ll start looking for Lang.

Vaughn (on comms): Hey, check out that guy to your left.

(Cut to Sydney as she looks over her shoulder at a young man in black wearing spectacles. She gives him a seductive smile, plays with her necklace and says)

Sydney: Buy me a drink?

(The man puts up a finger to attract the bartender’s attention. Sydney looks around as she waits to hear from Vaughn. Cut to Vaughn looking at the PDA, then to the image on the PDA. The program searches the man’s face. He’s not a match. Cut to Vaughn.)

Vaughn: Nothing.

(A new song starts to play. As the man holds out the drink to her, she waves her hand and starts to walk away saying,)

Sydney: I love this song.

Vaughn (on comms as Sydney works the crowd): Okay, nothing there…Keep moving…Oh! Check out that guy with no rhythm…

(Sydney grabs both the man’s hands and starts dancing with him while Vaughn checks out his face. Cut to Vaughn.)

Vaughn: No, only a nose job…not enough to be Lang.

(Cut back to Sydney. She dances for another moment, then moves on. Cut to a view of the crowd from Sydney’s pendant.)

Vaughn (voiceover): Chin implant at 3 o’clock…

(Cut to Vaughn looking at his PDA)

Vaughn: Collagen lips straight ahead…

(Cut to Vaughn’s PDA as he focuses in on a woman in a low cut white satin gown shimmying to the music. An X-ray interpretation of the shot reveals…)

Vaughn (jokingly sarcastic): Okay, those breasts are real…

(Cut to Sydney as she smiles at Vaughn’s joke. Cut back to Vaughn.)

Vaughn (joking): What do you think? Should I get my nose done?

Sydney (as she surreptitiously turns on her comm.): Maybe a little tapering…

Vaughn (on comms): Get the bump removed?

(Cut to Vaughn.)

Vaughn: Whoa, wait, wait, wait…go back. Go back to your left, 2 o’clock.

(Sydney takes a step back, turning her pendant.)

Sydney: Right there?

(Cut to the man the pendant is pointing at.)

Vaughn (voiceover): Yeah, yeah…hold it…just like that.

(Cut to Vaughn as he checks the man’s face.)

Vaughn: Okay, nose, chin, cheek lift, eye config…That’s Lang!

(Cut to Lang as Strauss approaches him.)

Sydney (on comms): And there’s Strauss.

(Strauss hands Lang a small manila envelope. Cut to Sydney.)

Sydney: He just got his identity papers…

(Cut back to Lang as a red dot appears, moving around his head.)

Sydney: Someone has a laser sight on him!

(Cut to Allison in the balcony, aiming her sniper rifle at Lang’s head. Cut back to Sydney as she rushes toward Lang, grabbing him and throwing him to the floor. A bullet hits Strauss in the chest a split-second later. Sydney pulls her pistol and shoots at Allison in the balcony. Allison ducks behind a wall. As Sydney continues to return fire, she says on comms)

Sydney: Vaughn, Allison’s the shooter; she’s up in the balcony.

(Cut to Vaughn, running.)

Vaughn: I’m on my way!

(Cut to Allison as she starts shooting into the crowd, presumably at Sydney and/or Lang. People scream and run. Glasses get shot on the counter. Sydney returns fire as Lang starts to crawl off.)

Sydney: Wait! Lang!

(He doesn’t stop, runs away.)

Sydney: Don’t move!

(She gets up to try and follow, but Allison fires at her and Sydney has to dive over the bar to use it as a shield. Cut to Lang, running pell-mell down the staircase. Cut back to Sydney, hiding behind the bar, shielding her face from the broken glass around her.)

Sydney: Lang ran out; I’m pinned down. Vaughn, where are you?

(Cut to Vaughn, hiding around the corner from where Allison is.)

Vaughn: I’m on the balcony!

(He leans around the corner and fires three shots at Allison and then hides as she fires at him. Cut to Lang, running for the elevator, pushing the down button and getting on. Cut back to Sydney, still behind the bar. She gets up abruptly to fire, but Allison’s gone.)

Sydney (to Vaughn on comms): Do you see her!?

(Cut to Vaughn.)

Vaughn: No, she took off! I’m goin’ after her.

(Cut to Sydney)

Sydney: I’m goin’ after Lang.

(Cut to Allison, stalking down the corridor toward the elevator. Cut to the inside of the elevator as we watch the lights flash from 4 to 3 to 2, then pan down to Lang’s terrified face. The elevator stops. Lang looks up as Allison crashes through the glass ceiling of the elevator, landing easily on her feet.)

Allison: Hello.

(Allison grabs Lang by the neck and throws him to the floor of the car. She pulls out a tooth extractor and holds it over him as she chokes him with her other hand. She moves forward and then the camera pulls up and away. We are looking down through the hole in the ceiling of the elevator as we hear Lang screaming (as Allison apparently extracts a tooth) The camera pans up the elevator shaft to where Vaughn discovers Allison has wedged the elevator door open with a metallic ash can. Looking down into the shaft he tells Sydney on comms)

Vaughn: Sydney, she went down the elevator shaft. She has Lang.

(Cut to Sydney)

Sydney: What floor is she on?

(Cut to Vaughn)

Vaughn: The basement.

(Cut to Sydney as she pushes open the door leading to the basement. She runs down the hallway and then stops as she reaches the elevator corridor. Sydney walks carefully down the hallway. The door to the elevator is open. A body is lying on the floor of it. She walks forward, turns the corner to look into the elevator. Lang has blood dripping from his mouth. He appears dead. Just then, Allison appears from behind Sydney and hits her on the head with the butt end of her pistol. Sydney collapses. Allison stands over her menacingly. Cut to black. End of Act Two.)

(Pan across JTF to Weiss and Sydney walking toward Weiss’ desk.)

Sydney: Why didn’t she kill me?

Weiss: Maybe she likes you…

Sydney: Weiss, I’m serious.

(Weiss sits in his chair, Sydney sits on the corner of his desk)

Weiss: So am I! Come on…she lived with you for months! She doubled herself as your best friend…maybe in that time, she started to like you. I could see that happening.

Sydney (shaking her head, then looking up at Vaughn, standing over Weiss’ shoulder): It was like she needed to keep me alive. I..I know this sounds weird, but it was like she was ordered not to kill me.

Weiss: Hmmm. Well, that’s lucky.

Vaughn: I wanna know your fight two years ago. You shot her three times.

Weiss: So wait…she took this guy’s tooth!?

Sydney: She took the guy’s tooth.

Weiss: Just when you think the world can’t get any weirder…

(Lauren walks up to the group with a smile.)

Lauren: Hey.

Weiss (in greeting): Hey. So, have you checked the dental records to find out what’s so weird about his teeth?

Sydney: Langley crosschecked all accessible files; they had nothing. But then Lauren was a genius…

Lauren (embarrassed): Genius isn’t quite what I was…

Weiss (to Lauren): What? What’d ya do? I miss all the good briefings…

Vaughn: Lauren realized that we already had Lang’s X-rays…and we could use them to figure out what was in his tooth.

Weiss: What!?

Sydney: The X-cam…Marshall’s necklace. We used it to see who had plastic surgery; I took the pictures myself.

Weiss: Nice!

Lauren: I have a m

(Aerial shot of LA by day.)

NSC Techie: I went through the entire disc. There were 300 calls and about 12 percent of them are encrypted, including this one from the day before the murder…

(Cut to Lauren, sitting on the edge of Techie’s desk. He pushes a button and the camera focuses on a computer program that is playing the recording.)

Lazarey: Hello, this is Andrean.

Woman: Hello, Andrean. It’s me.

Lazarey: Hello.

Woman: About the stock transfer…

Lazarey: So I trust you’ve located a safe place to park the assets…

Woman: I have.

Lazarey: Well then…when would like to come by to discuss the particulars?

Woman: Can you make time tomorrow at 3?

Lazarey: Of course. I look forward to seeing you then.

Woman: See you then.

Lazarey: Goodbye.

Lauren: That has to be the killer. He was murdered at 3:15.

Techie: Mmm. I ran it through analysis; the woman’s voice has been digitally altered.

Lauren: Can you restore the original?

Techie: Mmmm…no. It was altered at the source. But, I was able to access records from the Russian telephone exchange…

Lauren (following his line of thinking): So you can do a trace…

(Techie smiles triumphantly.)

Techie: I already did… (he pushes a few buttons on the computer and it shows a running graphic as he speaks.) See, whoever placed the call did an amazing job. They routed to Lazarey’s PBX via a defunct satellite network, through the Internet, via IP gateway, and out over a land line to what appears to be a secure telephone at this address…(the computer hones in on a place)

Lauren: London…

Techie (in British accent): 34 Trenton Place…(in normal voice) Knightsbridge. A company called KNG Microtech.

Lauren: Good job.

(Cut to a shot of London. Either sunrise or sunset. Lauren pushes open a set of glass doors and walks through it. She walks to a door, knocks on it. When no one answers, she opens the door with a credit card. Cut to Robert Lindsay, listening on a telephone.)

Lauren (voiceover): I found the office where the call originated. It’s been empty for some time.

(Cut to Lauren sitting on a desk in an otherwise empty small office.)

Lauren: I spoke to the leasing agent. According to their records, this office was leased a year ago November 24th: a four-year lease, paid in advance.

Lindsay: Was there a name on the lease?

Lauren: Yes, there was. I believe she is the person who killed Lazarey. Her name is Julia Thorne.

(Cut to black. PRAGUE. Push through the G. Evening scene of Prague. Cut to Arvin Sloane, entering an outdoor eating area.)

Sloane (on comms): I feel like a field agent again.

Sydney (over comms): Do you have a 20 on the targets?

Sloane (on comms): Sydney, I’ve never told you about my time with the Agency, have I?

(Cut to Sydney and Weiss on comms)

Sydney: Yes or no.

(Cut to Sloane)

Sloane (voice singsong): I was very patriotic once…

(Cut to Sydney)

Sydney: No one’s asking…

(Weiss gives Sydney a look)

Sloane (voiceover): Here they are.

(Cut to Allison and Sark sitting at a table waiting for Sloane. Sark’s drinking red wine while Allison smokes a cigarette. Sloane approaches them.)

Sloane: Mr. Sark…Allison… (He sits down across from them at the table.) You’re looking well.

Allison: I look like someone else. When you hired me to undergo gene therapy, you promised me you could reverse engineer the process.

(Cut to Weiss and Sydney listening and then back to Sloane)

Sloane: Ahhh, but Sydney Bristow destroyed the technology that would have allowed us to…return you. I’m sorry for your loss.

Sark: You indicated that it was important we meet.

Sloane: The CIA is on to you.

(Cut to Weiss and Sydney listening. Cut to Sloane.)

Sloane: My sources tell me the Agency knows you’ve extracted an RFID chip from Mr. Lang; the plane that you’ve chartered is under surveillance. As council to the Covenant, I suggest that you move up your timetable. If you’ll let me know where you need to go, I’ll have a plane waiting within the hour.

(Cut to Allison. She’s been watching Sloane closely.)

Allison (flatly): He’s lying.

Sloane: Allison…

Sark: No, she’s a…wonderful judge of character…

Sloane (to Allison): Sydney Bristow found you in Milan. If I were a betting man, I’d say she’d find you again. (more to Sark) I’m simply here to help.

(Cut to Weiss and Sydney.)

Weiss (whispering): There’s no way Sark’s gonna go for this…

(Cut to Sark.)

Sark: We’re going to Bulgaria. The device is in a vault in Sofia.

(Cut to Weiss and Sydney.)

Weiss: What’d I tell ya? This is the best plan ever!

(Cut to Sloane)

Sloane: I can get you there first thing.

Sark: Tomorrow morning.

Sloane: Done.

Sark: Our business here is complete.

(Cut to Weiss and Sydney)

Sydney (over comms): Ask them where I’ve been the last two years…

(Weiss gives Sydney a look. Cut to Sloane.)

Sloane: I’ll call you as soon as the arrangements are complete.

(Cut to Sydney and Weiss.)

Sydney (over comms): Ask them…or I’ll send a feedback signal through your comm so loud they’ll hear it and know you’re wired…at which point they’ll kill you. It sucks being a double agent, doesn’t it?

(Weiss sighs and rubs his eyes with his hand as if he can’t believe Sydney is doing this.)

(Cut to Sloane as he is about to get up, but then settles back into his seat.)

Sloane: You know Allison, I’m thinking…seeing you again… I’m reminded of all the things that have happened over the past two years. I…I’m curious…have you and Sydney Bristow crossed paths?

Allison: Why?

Sloane: Well I heard that you had an opportunity to kill her in Milan and that you didn’t take it…

Allison: The Covenant asked me not to.

(Cut to Weiss and Sydney’s shock. Cut back to the table.)

Sloane: Really? Why is that?

Allison: They wanna retrieve something…something in her memory.

(Weiss looks at Sydney, shocked. Sydney is also surprised. Cut back to the table.)

Sloane: What? Something she saw? Something she experienced?

Allison: I’m as curious as you are.

(Cut back to Weiss and Sydney.)

Weiss: Something you saw!? What the hell is that!?

Sydney: I have no idea.

(Cut to Sydney and Jack in the JTF office.)

Jack: Sydney, we’ve been over this.

Sydney: Yes, I know. The NSC techniques to recapture my memories are invasive…

Jack: Invasive!? That’s too benign a word. We’re talking about surgical procedures that could leave you with permanent brain damage!

Sydney: Allison said the Covenant wants to access something I saw…

Jack: And we’ll discover what that is in time…

Sydney: Dad, I am walking around with a secret in my head; something so fantastic that the Covenant operatives have been ordered not to kill me. I need to know what that is!

Jack: I understand, but we’re not doing it like that!

Sydney: Then how do you propose we do it!? I am losing my mind!

(Dixon walks up from behind them.)

Dixon: I just got off the phone with our NIS liaison in Sofia. Once Allison’s plane lands, you and Vaughn will coordinate with the local authorities and track her to the location of the vault. We’ll wait until she retrieves the device, then apprehend her.

Sydney: I understand.

Dixon: You leave at once.

(Sydney looks uncomfortable. Dixon looks at Jack standing behind her and addresses him.)

Dixon: Is there a problem with that?

Jack: No there isn’t. I’ll go over op tech with Marshall.

(He leaves.)

Dixon: I want you to be clear on the rules of engagement.

Sydney: Yes, I know. Allison is another link we now have into the Covenant. She is part of our larger agenda, and as such, is not to be killed.

Dixon: I want her dead.

Sydney: What!?

Dixon: The order from Langley is to bring her in…dead or alive. She killed my wife; she killed your best friend…so, I look at this as an opportunity. The only reason why I hesitated before was that I hoped that she might have information for you. But now that we know there’s no hope for that? (pause, as his face hardens dangerously) I want that bitch dead!

(Cut to Sydney’s shocked expression as Dixon stalks away. Cut to black. End of Act Four.)

(Aerial shot of LA by day. Cut to Marshall’s techie room, where he’s talking to Vaughn.)

Marshall: I hear, actually, you wanna track Allison, right? Well, I came up with a solution to that problem… The chip inside Lang’s tooth; it uses a frequency signature, and that’s how it unlocks the vault that contains his missile launching device.

Vaughn: You explained this…the QuickPass.

Marshall (Gesturing to a PDA device on his desk): Now this thing will hone in on the frequency which will lead us to Allison, and she will lead us to the device.

(Vaughn makes a “Hmm…okay that sounds good” face)

Marshall: However…I..wasn’t…really sure…exactly the frequency that the chip transmits on, so I, you know, covered a…broader spectrum.

Vaughn: Is that gonna be a problem?

Marshall: No, noooo…not really. All right…kinda. It might be set off by certain microwave ovens…

(Vaughn rolls his eyes as if to say “Oh great…”)

Marshall: …so I’d steer clear of pancake houses of the…international variety…?

Vaughn: Got it.

(Vaughn goes to reach for the PDA, but Marshall blocks him.)

Marshall: Whoa! The…uh, EPROM chip isn’t finished burning, so it’s gonna be a while…

Vaughn: All right, then…Just let me know when it’s ready.

(Vaughn turns to leave.)

Marshall: Actually, uh…can I ask you a favor?

(Vaughn turns back.)

Vaughn: Uh, sure.

Marshall: I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but, uh…I’m not that smooth around the ladies…

(Vaughn frowns as if to say to Marshall “Hmmm…I’ve never noticed that” while we know he’s trying to make him feel better, since it’s blatantly obvious Marshall isn’t smooth…)

Marshall: …well, in fact, I’m a little awkward. Well, I mean, let’s face it: You got the looks and I got the brains…

(Vaughn registers this comment and doesn’t look too pleased about it.)

Marshall: But…look, I wanted to propose to Carrie, so I came up with an idea, and I was hoping you could give me some objective feedback.

Vaughn (slight sarcasm, raised eyebrows, he can’t believe Marshall just said this): I got the looks, you got the brains!?

Marshall: Tell me what you think and be brutal okay? Just be honest. Don’t uh, hold back or anything…okay…

(Marshall climbs in behind a full drum kit in his workshop. Vaughn stands before him, arms crossed, still rather annoyed by the “looks and brains” comment.)

Marshall (tapping on cymbal and snare drum): You’re the micro in my chip; the giga in my byte. I think about you, Carrie, every morning, noon and night….morning, noon and night…

Vaughn: That’s…

Marshall (cutting Vaughn off. He’s not done. Going whole hog on the kit now….): Kid! We had sushi!

(Vaughn puts his hand over his eyes in embarrassment as if he cannot believe this. Marshall wails on the drums (he’s good, by the way). Vaughn crosses his arms again, waiting, then checks his watch as if to say, “God, when is this gonna end!?” Marshall finishes his drum solo and goes back to the soft snare drum and cymbal.)

Marshall: I’ll protect you, can’t you see? Carrie, marry me…I love you… (closes his eyes as he slowly trails off the cymbal, then opens them, looking up at Vaughn hopefully.)

(Vaughn smiles encouragingly.)

Marshall: No good?

Vaughn: I…I think she’s gonna say yes.

Marshall: Really? Because of the…rock jam song?

Vaughn: Maybe in spite of the rock jam song.

Marshall (relieved): All right!

(Beeping emits from Marshall’s desk.)

Marshall: Oh! Hey…your thing’s ready…

(Vaughn walks over to Marshall’s desk and retrieves the PDA.)

Vaughn: Thanks, Marshall.

(He walks out, giving Marshall a little amused smile.)

Marshall: Rock on!

(Cut to black. SOFIA. Push through the F. A helicopter flies over the city at night. Cut to Vaughn and Sydney inside the helicopter, both wearing headsets.)

Vaughn: Sloane put Allison on the ground 20 minutes ago…

Voice (over comms): Sir, we have a visual…

(Cut in to their monitors following a car down on the street.)

Sydney: There she is. (pause) What is that place?

Vaughn: It looks abandoned, like an old hotel. Do you have an address?

Sydney: Yeah. 14205 Beckerman.

Vaughn: Okay, I’ll tell the pilot. (over comms) Put us down near 14205 Beckerman.

(Sydney picks up Marshall’s device, looking at it.)

Sydney: What kind of range does this thing have?

Vaughn: Marshall said it should track the signal of the chip Allison’s using from about 50 yards. But then he also said that it could be set off by certain microwave ovens…

Sydney: Well, that’s great.

Vaughn: Yeah.

(Cut to two figures climbing an outdoor back staircase. It’s Vaughn and Sydney. Sydney pulls out a portable blowtorch and starts opening the lock as Vaughn watches the progress on the device.)

Sydney: Do you have a signal?

Vaughn: Well, either Allison’s in there, or someone’s making microwave popcorn…

(Sydney gets the lock off and opens the door.)

Sydney: Let’s go.

(Syd and Vaughn access the building. Cut to Allison, walking down a hallway. Cut back to Syd and Vaughn, following her signal.)

Sydney: Where is she?

Vaughn (starting to jog): Hold on…

(They jog through a lobby and up a staircase. As they reach the top and turn left…)

Vaughn (slightly out of breath): She’s 30 feet down on the left.

(Vaughn and Sydney approach the door with guns drawn and then enter. The tracker goes bezerk. Then turn the corner. The vault’s already open; the device is gone. The tooth has been left behind.)

Vaughn: We can’t track her without the chip.

(Sydney and Vaughn turn just as a shadow crosses the wall in the hallway behind them. Sydney and Vaughn start to follow.)

Vaughn: I’ll go this way.

Sydney: Okay.

(They split up. Cut to Syd, running down a hallway. Cut to Vaughn running down a different hallway. Cut to someone going down a flight of stairs. Sydney comes barreling down the staircase behind Allison.)

Sydney (over comms): She’s in the west stairwell.

(Cut to Vaughn.)

Vaughn: Copy!

(Cut to Allison running through what appears to be the kitchen of the hotel while Sydney shoots at her. Sydney slides across the metal table to get to the other side. Cut to Sydney entering the lobby. She slows, looking around, when suddenly, Allison comes out from behind a pillar, knocking Sydney to the ground. Allison draws her gun on Sydney.)

Allison: Well, this is familiar, isn’t it? Oh, I was thinking about this all last night; I couldn’t sleep. If I follow my orders…If I don’t kill you; you’re gonna kill me. Sorry about Francie; I was just following orders. (Allison doesn’t look a bit sorry. In fact, she looks as if she’s supremely enjoying herself.) Once I’d been doubled, I had to take her place…

(Cut to flashback. Francie is in her restaurant, back to the camera. She’s talking on the phone.)

Francie: We did, like, 80 dinners. We’re like a huge success! (pause. She thinks she hears something…turns around. There’s nothing there. Calling out to the empty restaurant.) Hello? (Turns back around) Mom, I’m gonna have to put you on hold for just a second, okay?

(Allison walks up behind Francie. Francie puts the call on hold and turns around, looking at Allison in complete shock. Allison points a gun at Francie’s face.)

Francie (shocked and frightened): What…?

Allison: Move into the kitchen.

(Francie backs up slowly as Allison inches forward. Francie can’t believe what she’s seeing.)

Francie (in soft, shocked voice): You’re me!

Allison: I am now.

(Francie backs through the kitchen door. Allison shoots her. Francie falls backward onto the wall and slides down, bullet hole in her forehead. Blood smears down the wall from the back of her head. Allison picks up the phone that Francie dropped and takes it off hold.)

Allison: Mom, I’m gonna have to call you back.

(End flashback.)

Allison: I had nothing against her; she was just a casualty of circumstance. Don’t blame yourself, Syd…there was no way you have known. Just like when you recovered Rambaldi’s journal, you had no idea it contained a formula.

Sydney: What are you talking about?

Allison: A formula for a medication that would ultimately be used to help heal my wounds. So yeah…you almost killed me… (cocks gun viciously) but you also saved my life.

(Cut to close up of Allison’s finger on the trigger as she starts to pull it. Sydney kicks the gun out of her hand as it discharges in another direction. Another girl fight ensues, much shorter than the last. It ends with both of them picking up their guns, but Sydney shoots first. Allison’s body falls backward into the empty water fountain in the middle of the lobby. Cut to slow motion of Sydney breathing a sigh of relief as Vaughn comes running up behind her. He puts a hand on her arm, looks at her as if to assess if she’s all right. Close up on Allison’s prone body as a pair of hands unzips the top of her jacket and removes the device, then checks for a pulse.)

Sydney (talking on a telephone): I shot her and we got the device. I know what you wanted…but she had a pulse.

(Cut to Dixon, reacting to this news.)

Dixon: Where is she now?

(Cut back to Sydney, holding the phone in one hand, an ice pack to the side of her head with the other.)

Sydney: They’ve taken her to a hospital.

Dixon (voiceover): Civilian ambulance?

Sydney: Yeah…with an armed guard. Why?

(Cut to Dixon. He’s not pleased.)

Dixon: I’ll call about having her extradited. I want an update on her condition as soon as you get it.

(Cut to Sydney)

Sydney: Okay.

(Cut to Dixon)

Dixon: Good work, Sydney.

(Cut to Sydney)

Sydney: Thank you.

(Cut back to Dixon in his office, brooding.)

Vaughn (speaking to an officer in a foreign language): What do you mean they never got there?

Officer (in foreign language): The ambulance left twenty minutes ago, but the hospital is only ten minutes away.

Vaughn (in foreign language): Did you try the radio?

Officer (in foreign language): Of course. They don’t answer.

(Sydney approaches, saying something to the officer and he walks away.)

Sydney (to Vaughn): The Rambaldi book; do you remember a formula for a medication?

Vaughn: No.

Sydney: (sighs) We’ve gotta find that ambulance.

(Cut to a police van driving down a dark street. It’s pouring. Cut to inside the van.)

Sydney: Are you sure this is the route they would have taken?

Vaughn: That’s what he said. This is the only way to the hospital.

Officer: Yes, there is no other.

(Cut to view as they turn a corner. A vehicle is tipped over on its side. A body lays in the street. They get closer and stop. It’s the ambulance. Vaughn and Sydney get out of the police van. Both Vaughn and Sydney are instantly drenched in the downpour. Vaughn bends to check for a pulse on the body in the street. Sydney walks over to check inside the ambulance. She looks inside the back of the van. The medic or guard inside appears dead. Allison is nowhere in sight. Vaughn approaches the back of the ambulance too, looking inside in disbelief.)

Vaughn: What? This makes no sense! If Allison had backup, they would have been with her at the hotel!

(Sydney looks around into the night and then says)

Sydney: I don’t think she needed backup.

(Vaughn’s face registers his shock.)

Vaughn: What do you mean?

Sydney: I think she did this herself.

Vaughn: The medic said she barely had a pulse!

Sydney (more certain now): I know! (pause) She did this, Vaughn. She did this.

(Cut to Vaughn’s uncertain face. He looks back into the ambulance again. Cut to Sydney’s face. Cut to black. ALIAS. End of Act Five.)