Buffy is napping in Angel's bed. Angel is watching her sleep. He smiles at her as she wakes.
Buffy: (smiles) What? Do I have funny bed hair or something?
Angel: Or something?
Buffy: I guess we got a little carried away with the whole post-slayage nap thing. (feels her hair) Ohhh, not good. (sits up)
Angel: Where you going?
Buffy: To go kill a cat on my head.
Angel: No mirrors.
Buffy: You know, this place really isn't girl-friendly. No mirrors, no natural light.
Angel: I think you look perfect.
Buffy: Oh yeah, I really like... Okay! (lays down) Maybe we should think about getting a few mirrors. And maybe a drawer, you know, for some of my stuff. Because that's what couples do, they have drawers.
Angel: Mmmm, that's right.
Buffy: You know, I-I figure, that way sometimes I could spend the night. Like, after the prom, it would be nice to be able to just come back here and spend some time together.
Angel: The prom?
Buffy: End of high school rite of passage thingy. Think cotillion with spiked punch and electric slide.
Angel: Right.
Buffy: Oh, don't worry, it's at night. And lots of girls have older girlfriends. You'll blend.
Angel: I think maybe you should go, hunh?
Buffy: Noo.. must be a few more hours before sunrise. Buffy gets up and walks to the window. When she pulls back the blackout curtain, it lets in a blast of sunlight directly onto the bed. With an exclamation, Angel rolls out of bed away from the light, apparently unharmed. Buffy pulls the curtains closed suddenly.
Buffy: Ooh, sorry. I guess it's later than we thought. Angel has a worried look. Opening credits.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Daylight outside Sunnydale High. Xander is walking slowly when Anyanka intercepts him and walks beside him.
Anya: Xander!
Xander: Well, hey, it's demon Anya, punisher of evil males. Still haven't got your powers back? (serious) You haven't right?
Anya: No. I will, though. It's just a matter of time.
Xander: So now, how did that work? Women would wish horrible things upon their ex-boyfriends. You'd show up and make it happen.
Anya: That's right. The power of the Wish made me a righteous sword to smite the unfaithful.
Xander: Well, hey! Good luck with that. Hope it works out for you.
Anya: You know, you can laugh, but I have witnessed a millenium of treachery and oppression from the males of the species and I have nothing but contempt for the whole libidinous lot of them.
Xander: Then why you talking to me?
Anya: (averts her eyes) I don't have a date for the prom.
Xander: Well gosh. I wonder why not. It couldn't possibly have anything to do with your sales pitch?
Anya: Men are evil. Will you go with me?
Xander: One of us is very confused, and I honestly don't know which.
Anya: You know, this happens to be all your fault.
Xander: My fault?
Anya: You were unfaithful to Cordelia so I took on the guise of a twelfth-grader to tempt her with the Wish. When I lost my powers I got stuck in this persona, and now I have all these feelings. I don't understand it. I don't like it. All I know is I really want to go to this dance and I want someone to go with me.
Xander: Be still my heart. Oh wait, it is. How come I got the short straw?
Anya: You're not quite as obnoxious as most of the alpha males around here. Plus I know you don't have a date. <!-- implying Xander is an alpha male? -->
Xander: I haven't settled on anyone yet.
Anya: Fine. Look, I know you find me attractive. I've seen you looking at my breasts.
Xander: Nothing personal, but when a guy does that, it just means his eyes are open.
Anya: Whatever. Look, do you wanna go with me or not? Silence.
Cut to a picnic table outside the school, still daylight. Oz, Willow, Buffy, and Xander.
Oz: Anya, huh? Interesting choice.
Xander: Choice is kind of a broad term for my situation. See, it's either Anya or the sock puppet of love for this boy. (holds his right hand in puppet shape, speaks in silly voice) I love you, Xander. I'll never leave you.
Willow: Well, if Anya tries to get you killed, put me down for a big 'I told you so.'
Xander: (puppet) Who's this Anya? Is she prettier than me?
Willow: She just better not try to cross me. That's all I'm saying.
Buffy: Well, at least we all have someone to go with now. Some of us are going with demons, but I think that's a valid lifestyle choice. More importantly, I have the kick dress.
Willow: Ooh, the pink one?
Buffy: Angel's gonna lose it. But not his soul. He's gonna lose it. His it.
[SCENE_BREAK]
In Angel's mansion. He picks up one of Buffy's notebooks and sees a doodle, "Angel & Buffy 4 Ever!" There is a knock at the door. He opens it, careful to avoid the sunlight, and lets Joyce inside.
Angel: Mrs. Summers.
Joyce: I'm sorry to, uh... Well, I would have called, but, you know.
Angel: Please, you're always welcome.
Joyce: My goodness, your place is amazing.
Angel: Yeah, I like a lot of space. I don't get out much during the day.
Joyce: No, you wouldn't. (Her gaze pauses on a set of manacles that are fastened to a wall.)
Angel: Can I get you something? I don't have any coffee.
Joyce: Oh, no thank you, I, uh... You don't drink? Beverages, I mean?
Angel: No, I do. It's just the caffeine. It makes me jittery.
Joyce: Oh. I understand Buffy spent the night.
Angel: I'm sorry about that. We came back after patrol.
Joyce: I, I'm not interested in the details. That's not why I'm here.
Angel: Okay.
Joyce: I'm here because I'm worried about you two. In general.
Angel: What happened before, when I changed, it won't happen again.
Joyce: That's not all I'm concerned about. I don't have to tell you that you and Buffy are from different worlds.
Angel: No, you don't.
Joyce: She's had to deal with a lot. Grew up fast. Sometimes even I forget that she's still just a girl.
Angel: I'm old enough to be her ancestor.
Joyce: She's just starting out in life.
Angel: I know. I think about it more now that she's staying in Sunnydale.
Joyce: Good. Because when it comes to you, Angel, she's just like any other young woman in love. You're all she can see of tomorrow. But I think we both know that there are some hard choices ahead. If she can't make them, you're gonna have to. I know you care about her. I just hope you care enough.
[SCENE_BREAK]
In the library. Willow, Oz, Buffy, and Xander.
Buffy: So it was blue and sorta short.
Willow: Not too shore, medium. And it had this weird, sorta fringey stuff on its arms.
Giles: (walking in) What's that, a demon?
Buffy: A prom dress that Will was thinking of getting. Can't you ever get your mind out of the hellmouth?
Giles: I'd be delighted to. However, the day of the Mayor's Ascension is fast approaching and we don't know what to expect.
Xander: Well, what about the pages that Will stole from the Mayor's book? Look, she put her life on the line there, pal. Don't tell me they're useless.
Giles: On the contrary, no, we, uh, we know the Ascension refers to a human transforming into a demon, the living embodiment of an immortal. And Graduation Day, our Mayor Wilkins is scheduled to do just that. Wesley enters, followed closely by Cordelia.
Wesley: (enters) Trouble is, we don't know which demon he is going to become.
Giles: There are thousands of species.
Wesley: So, it's safe to say we shouldn't waste any time of such trifling matters as a school dance.
Cordelia: Well, that's too bad, because I bet you would look way 007 in a tux.
Wesley: Except, of course, on the actual night, I will be aiding Mr. Giles in his chaperoning duties.
Giles: What? Excuse me? Fine, fine, fine.
Buffy: (to Willow) We'll get you a dress. You know, we should check April Fools.
Cordelia: Don't go there! I shop there.
Xander: I myself am dipping into my road trip fund to procure a shiny new tux, so look for me to dazzle.
Giles: And I myself will be wearing pink taffeta as chenille would not go with my complexion. Can we *please* talk about the Ascension?
Buffy: Giles, we get it. Miles to go before we sleep. But especially if we're all gonna vaporize or something on Graduation Day, we deserve a little prommy fun. One night of glory, not to much to ask.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Daylight. Exterior shot of a dingy suburban house. Inside. A hand loads a videotape into a VCR. Pan to a snarling creature, roughly humanoid, in a wire cage. The creatures struggles are warping the cage sides. One corner has already come loose.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Daylight. Exterior shot of a cathedral. Inside. Angel and Buffy in wedding clothes stand at an altar before a priest.
Priest: Into this holy estate, these two persons present now come to be joined. If any man can show just cause why they should not be lawfully joined together, let him speak now, or else, hereinafter, hold his peace. The priest's voice fades under the swelling music. The camera pans around the couple until it looks from the priest's viewpoint. Behind them, the chapel is empty. The doors at the back are open, and the sunlight is bright against the interior darkness. They exchange rings. They kiss. They walk to the exterior doors, hand in hand. The music turns darker. Buffy looks very happy, but Angel looks apprehensive. As they leave the church, they separate and stand a few feet apart at the top of the steps. Angel squints up at the sky, but does not burst into flame.
Buffy: Angel? A flame appears on Buffy's exposed skin and rapidly engulfs her. Angel looks on in shock. Buffy burning body crumbles to ashes. Angel wakes up from the nightmare.
Fade to commercial.
[SCENE_BREAK]
In a sewer tunnel. Buffy and Angel enter through a manhole in the roof of the tunnel and start walking.
Buffy: I always say patrol's not complete without a trip to the stinky sewers.
Angel: I'm sure I saw him come down here.
Buffy: Couldn't we just let this be the vamp that got away? We could say he was this big. (Holds hands apart, like a fish story.)
Angel: What can I say? I need closure.
Buffy: You need clothes. You don't have a tux, do you?
Angel: Since when did patrolling go black tie?
Buffy: For the prom, silly.
Angel: We have more important things to think about right now than a dance, Buffy.
Buffy: Sorry, Giles. I'll just be quiet.
Angel: Come on, don't be that way. A vampire drops from the roof, growling.
Buffy: Not now. Buffy casually stakes the vampire and turns to Angel.
Buffy: I'm not being that way. Every time I say the word 'prom', you get grouchy.
Angel: I'm sorry. I'm just worried that you're getting too...invested in this whole thing.
Buffy: What whole thing? Isn't this the stuff that I'm supposed to get invested in? Going to a formal, graduating, growing up.
Angel: I know.
Buffy: Then what? What's with the dire?
Angel: It's uh, it's nothing.
Buffy: No, you have 'something' face.
Angel: I think we need to talk, but not now and not here.
Buffy: No. No, if you have something to say, then say it. (silence) Angel, drop the cryptic. You're scaring me.
Angel: I've been thinking... about our future. And the more I do, the more I feel like us, you and me being together, is unfair to you.
Buffy: Is this about what the Mayor said? Because he was just trying to shake us up.
Angel: He was right.
Buffy: No. No, he wasn't. He's the bad guy.
Angel: You deserve more. You deserve something outside of demons and darkness. You should be with someone who can take you into the light. Someone who can make love to you.
Buffy: I don't care about that.
Angel: You will. And children.
Buffy: Children? Can you say jumping the gun? I kill my goldfish.
Angel: Today. But you have no idea how fast it goes, Buffy. Before you know it, you'll want it all, a normal life.
Buffy: I'll never have a normal life.
Angel: Right, you'll always be a Slayer. But that's all the more reason why you should have a real relationship instead of this, this freak show. (Buffy is stunned.) I didn't mean that.
Buffy: I'm gonna go.
Angel: (grabs her arm) I'm sorry. Buffy, you know how much I love you. It kills me to say this.
Buffy: Then don't. Who are you to tell me what's right for me? You think I haven't thought about this?
Angel: Have you, rationally?
Buffy: No. No, of course not. I'm just some swoony little schoolgirl, right?
Angel: I'm trying to do what's right here, okay? I'm trying to think with my head instead of my heart.
Buffy: Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating!
Angel: Don't.
Buffy: Don't what? Don't love you? I'm sorry. You know what? I didn't know that I got a choice in that. I'm never gonna change. I can't change. I want my life to be with you.
Angel: I don't.
Buffy: You don't want to be with me? I can't believe you're breaking up with me.
Angel: It doesn't mean that I don't ...
Buffy: How am I supposed to stay away from you?
Angel: I'm leaving. After the Ascension, after it's finished with the Mayor and Faith. If we survive, I'll go.
Buffy: Where?
Angel: I don't know.
Buffy: Is this really happening?
Fade to a cityscape showing the moon hanging in the night sky. Switch to Buffy, alone and miserable. Switch to Angel staring into his fireplace.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Daylight. Exterior shot of the Summers house. In Buffy's bedroom, Buffy and Willow sit cross-legged on the bed.
Willow: So, that's it?
Buffy: That's it. Assuming we survive this Ascension thing, he's gonna leave town.
Willow: Well, he's a fool. He's just a big, dumb, jerk person if you ask me. And he's a super-maxi-jerk for doing it right before the prom.
Buffy: It's not his fault. He's 243 years old. He doesn't exactly get the prom.
Willow: But he should, if ...
Buffy: Will, it's okay. You don't have to make him the bad guy.
Willow: But that's the best friend's job, vilifying and grousing.
Buffy: Usually, yeah. But he's right. I mean, I think, maybe in the long run, that he's right.
Willow: Yeah, I think he is. I mean, I tried to hope for the best, but... I'm sorry. It must be horrible.
Buffy: I think horrible is still coming. Right now, it's worse. Right now, I'm just trying to keep from dying. (her face contorts in pain)
Willow: Oh Buffy. Buffy leans over into Willow's lap and starts sobbing.
Buffy: I can't breathe, Will. I feel like I can't breathe.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Exterior shot of the dingy house. Inside, the creature in the cage is struggling violently against its chains. The cage sides bend and finally it escapes. It scrambles out of the room.
[SCENE_BREAK]
April Fools dress shop. Xander is walking on the sidewalk and sees Cordelia inside. He enters. Cordelia is admiring the same dress he saw in the previous episode (Choices).
Xander: Okay, how long does it take you to buy a damn dress?
Cordelia: Xander! I, uh, I'm considering things a little more carefully nowadays. I don't want to get stuck with another dud.
Xander: Well this should work for you. It positively screams nympho.
Salesgirl: Is this a customer or a friend?
Xander: Neither. Just stopped by for my daily helping of bile.
Salesgirl: So you better get back to work and quit goofing. Mrs. Finkel so has it in for you. Quick shot of the supervisor glancing back at Cordelia.
Xander: You work here?
Cordelia: Yes. Yes, I work here.
Xander: But, uh, why?
Cordelia: I'm trying to buy a dress.
Xander: But don't you already have all the dresses?
Cordelia: I have nothing, okay? No dresses. No cell phone. No car. Everything's been taken away because Daddy made a little mistake on his taxes. For the last twelve years. Satisfied? Are you a happy Xander now? I'm broke. I can't go to any of the colleges that accepted me. And I can't stay home because we no longer have one.
Xander: Uh, wow.
Cordelia: Yeah, neato. Now you can run along and tell all of your friends how Cordy finally got hers. How she has to work part time just to get a lousy prom dress on layaway. And how she has to wear a name tag. Oh, I'm a name tag person. Don't leave that out. The story just wouldn't have the same punch. The escaped creature from the dingy house bursts through the front window of the shop. Xander pushes Cordelia out of harm's way and attempts to grapple the creature. It pushes him down and jumps on top of him. Then it sees a man wearing a tux and attacks that man, rending and tearing savagely.
[SCENE_BREAK]
In the library. The Scooby Gang (including Wesley) sit around the table watching a surveillance tape of the attack.
Xander: Right there. See, it's, it's like he just realized he forgot to put money in the meter or something.
Cordelia: You know the part that totally weirded me out? That thing had good taste. I mean, he chucks Xander and went right for the formal wear.
Xander: That's right. He left behind his copy of Monsters Wear Daily.
Cordelia: I'm serious. Look at the outfit that Xander's wearing. Now look at the kid that the monster went after. Very smooth lines, 'til he was shredded.
Buffy: I don't want to see it again. Giles: Buffy, I know it's horrible, but if you're going to hunt this creature, you should study it.
Buffy: Think I got it.
Willow: She's right. I mean, you've seen one big hairy bringer of death, you've seen 'em all.
Wesley: If I'm not mistaken, this is a hellhound.
Giles: Yes. It's particularly vicious. It's sort of a demon foot soldier bred during the Machash Wars. Trained solely to kill. They feed off the brains of their foes.
Cordelia: Look! Right there, zoom in on that.
Xander: It's a videotape.
Cordelia: So? They do it on television all the time.
Xander: Not with a regular VCR they don't.
Wesley: Perhaps we could stay on the topic for once. What were you doing this afternoon?
Cordelia: What? Um, I was...
Xander: Burning a hole in daddy's wallet, as usual. I just bumped into her during my tuxedo hunt.
Oz: What's that? Pause it.
Xander: Guys! It's just a normal VCR. It doesn't... Oh wait, uh, it can do pause. When the picture is paused, a male teen can be seen peering through the shop's broken window.
Xander: Hello, hellhound raiser.
Cut to a closeup of a class yearbook.
Oz: Tucker Wells. He's in my chem lab.
Wesley: Let me guess. He was quiet, kept to himself, but always seemed like a nice young man.
Oz: He didn't seem the murderous type anyway. Something must have happened to him.
Xander: How's it going over there, Buff?
Buffy: Fine.
Xander: Well, I just wanted to say that your impersonation of an inanimate object is really coming along.
Buffy: Thanks.
Willow: Ooooh! I got into Tucker's e-mail account. Listen to this message Tucker sent to this kid David Metz at school last week. The Sunnydale High lemmings have no idea what awaits them. Their big night will be their last night.
Giles: So, we have a threat against the students on their big night, a hellhound trained to attack people in formal wear...
Cordelia: Oh, are we all catching up now?
Giles: Tucker is planning to attack the prom tonight.
Oz: Once again, the Hellmouth puts the special in special occasion.
Xander: Why do I even buy tickets for these things, I ask you?
Willow: Wonder if I can take my dress back?
Buffy: (wakes up) Don't you dare.
Willow: But Tucker is going to...
Buffy: No! You guys are going to have a prom. The kind of prom that everyone should have. I'm going to give you all a nice, fun, normal evening if I have to kill every single person on the face of the earth to do it.
Xander: Yay?
Fade to commercial.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Still in the library.
Buffy: Okay, Wes, why don't you go to Tucker's house. He's probably not there, but it's worth a shot.
Wesley: Alright. Perhaps strength in numbers would be ...
Buffy: You can take Cordy.
Wesley: If that's your plan, alright, alright. What about the others?
Buffy: Oz, you said you know this David kid that Tucker e-mailed? Why don't you and Will track him down? See what he knows, if he's involved?
Willow: We're on it.
Buffy: (to Wesley) And you know what? Could you two check the magic shop?
Wesley: Magic shop?
Buffy: Yeah. It's right next to the dress store on Main.
Xander: I can swing that one. What's the mission?
Buffy: See if anyone's been in, buying supplies to raise a hellhound.
Xander: Gotcha. Or check and see who's been stocking up on hellhound snausages. I hear those pups will do anything for a tasty treat.
Buffy: Giles, you said this thing eats brains. Any brains?
Giles: Um, I suppose.
Buffy: Then Tucker must be feeding it, right?
[SCENE_BREAK]
Cut to a meat packing plant. Buffy is walking next to hanging carcasses with a guy in a white coat and a hard hat.
Packer: Yeah, yeah. This kid orders cow brains a couple of times a week. Goes to this address. (hands her a note) Good luck. He's a weird kid.
Buffy: Thanks. Thanks a lot.
The packer walks away. Buffy looks up to see Angel nearby, paying another packer for a plastic bag. He sees her.
Angel: What are you doing here?
Buffy: Hello to you too.
Angel: Sorry. I'm just surprised.
Buffy: Me too. I don't know why though. Where did I think you get your blood, McPlasma's?
Angel: How are you?
Buffy: Right as rain, whatever that means. Don't look at me like that. I can lie to you if I want to now. We're ex, remember?
Angel: If it means anything, I miss you.
Buffy: Could we not, please? When I think about us, I have this tendency to sort of go catatonic. And I really can't afford to do that right now. Gotta stop a crazy from pulling a Carrie at the prom.
Angel: You still planning to go?
Buffy: Strictly in the chaperon capacity. But it's fine. I mean, the... I'm cool with going stag. I'm over the whole Buffy gets one perfect high school moment thing. But I'm certainly not going to let some subhuman ruin it for the rest of the senior class.
Angel: Let me help you.
Buffy: I'm okay.
Angel: If you ever need my help...
Buffy: Look, I got it! (pause) Thanks. (leaves)
[SCENE_BREAK]
In the dress shop. Cordelia is leaving work.
Salesgirl: Hey! Don't forget your dress. Aren't you wearing it tonight?
Cordelia: As much as I hate to admit it, I haven't finished paying for it yet.
Salesgirl: Well somebody did.
Cordelia: What? Who? (looks at the receipt)
[SCENE_BREAK]
Buffy enters the library. Giles is sipping coffee. Xander, Willow, and Oz are sitting on a step and looking glum.
Xander: Zeroes all around, Buff.
Willow: Sorry.
Buffy: Make not with the long faces. I got the address. Now the prom starts in a little while. I want you guys to go on and I'll catch up with you as soon as I put a lid on this jerk.
Xander: What? No way.
Willow: We can't just leave you, Buff.
Giles: Buffy, they're right. You need...
Buffy: To see taillights. Hit the door. I have everything under control.
Oz: Buffy, it makes sense to ...
Buffy: Have. A. Nice. Time. The trio rush off.
Willow: Okay then.
Xander: See ya.
Buffy: (to Giles) I want you at the gym. Keep an eye on them until I get there. Buffy marches into the book cage and begins loading up her weapons bag.
Giles: I don't have to tell you that you're being rather rash. Finding an address hardly adds up to case closed.
Buffy: Look, it's done. You want to go after them and tell them that they can't go? That all of their planning and dreaming was for nothing? That they can't spend tonight with their honeys of all nights?
Giles: Angel's not taking you, is he?
Buffy: Angel's leaving me. He's leaving town.
Giles: Oh, Buffy, I'm sorry. I don't really know what to say. Um, I understand that this sort of thing requires ice cream of some kind?
Buffy: Ice cream will come. First, I want to take out psycho boy.
Giles: You sure?
Buffy: The great thing about being a Slayer, kicking ass is comfort food.
[SCENE_BREAK]
At the prom. Flashy lights and dancing. Xander and Anya stroll through the crowd.
Anya: So she wished her husband's head would explode, which was great except we were standing three feet from him at the time. What a mess. Of course, you know, during the plague it was always parts falling off. Well, that got old since pretty much they were anyway. The Renaissance, that was ... (voice fades as they exit stage right) Giles and Wesley stand by a table munching hors-d'oeuvres.
Wesley: Well, I must say this is all rather odd to me.
Giles: Oh yes. At an all-male preparatory they didn't go in for this sort of thing.
Wesley: No, of course not. Unless you count the nights you made the lower classmen get up as girls and watched them ... (stops on Giles's look) Dip is tasty, isn't it? Cordelia enters in her new dress. Wesley is struck by a coughing. Giles is not facing the door and looks askance.
Wesley: Sauce is hot. (another lingering shot of Cordy) Very hot. Short montage of prom scenes, dancing, couple photos. Willow and Oz arrive.
Willow: We got in. Maybe we should dance before we get besieged, bedeviled, or beheaded or something.
Oz: It's not gonna happen.
Willow: You're not even a little nervous?
Oz: You think Buffy is going to let us down?
Willow: Want to share some punch? Oz and Willow walk by. Wesley approaches Cordelia.
Wesley: May I say, you look smashing.
Cordelia: It's a start. Cordelia takes Wesley's arm. Pan to Xander and Anya. Xander has a glazed look.
Anya: So then this one time, this girl wished her ex would cannibalize himself. Even I had a hard time watching that, let me tell you.
Xander: Cordelia! Wesley! My god in heaven, it's good to see you. How are you both? And details, please.
Wesley: Very well, thank you.
Cordelia: Yes, thank you. (emphasis with eyebrows)
Xander: It looks good on you.
Cordelia: Well, duh. Xander gives a subtle smile and nod and the couples part. Giles is chatting with a couple of women at the refreshments, but is keeping an eye on the door, watching for Buffy.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Inside Tucker's house. Buffy sneaks down a staircase and finds Tucker about to release a caged hellhound.
Tucker: You're ready to go.
Buffy: Sorry, new plan. She throws him away from the cage.
Buffy: The prom's a go and you're pathetic.
Tucker: Maybe. Maybe not. Tucker breaks a vase over Buffy's head - she brushes the shards off her jacket. He brandishes a screwdriver at her. She sees videotapes on top of the TV with labels like "Prom Night IV" and "Pump Up the Volume".
Buffy: So that's how you did it? That's how you brainwashed the hounds to go psycho on prom?
Tucker: Neat, huh?
Buffy: I don't get it. What kind of sicko wants to destroy the happiest night of a senior's life?
Tucker: I have my reasons. Quick flashback to more innocent Tucker and a girl.
Tucker: Do you want to go to the prom with me?
Girl: No. Back to Buffy and Tucker.
Buffy: Whatever. Every maladjust has his reasons. Luckily for me, you're an incompetent maladjust. Buffy disarms him and ties his hands behind him with an electrical cord. She opens a door and starts to push him through it.
Buffy: Now I'm gonna lock you in here and then I'm gonna party like it's ... In the room are three empty cages before three blank TV sets.
Tucker: Gotta have a redundancy system. Any incompetent knows that. My three fiercest babies are on their way to the dance right now. You think formal wear makes them crazy, wait 'til they see the mirror ball.
Fade to commercial.
[SCENE_BREAK]
Night, outside the prom hall. The three hellhounds lope toward the building doors. Buffy drops the trailing hound with a crossbow bolt. The other two turn and chase her. She runs.
Buffy: That's right. Follow Buffy. Good dogs. They chase her for a few moments, then hear the party music and reverse course.
Buffy: Oh, come on. That song sucks. She chases them into the building. Cut to a hallway. The hounds are pawing at closed doors. Buffy approaches and they attack her. She wraps one in a hanging tapestry, then wrestles the other one until she can knife it in the chest. The first one escapes the tapestry just as a male student opens the doors into the hall.
Buffy: Get back! Buffy grabs the hound before it can attack the student, grapples with it, and finally snaps its neck.
Student: (shaken) Bathroom? Buffy points.
Student: Th-th-tha...
Buffy: You're welcome.
Cut to outside. Buffy drags the hellhounds into the bushes, then pulls her prom dress out of her bag.
[SCENE_BREAK]
At the dance. Buffy enters, Giles sees her, and they exchange nods and smiles. Oz and Willow meet her.
Willow: Buffy, you look awesome.
Buffy: So do you.
Oz: Everything cool?
Buffy: Coolest. Devil dogs are history. How's the prom?
Oz: Strangely affecting. I got all teared up when they played 'We Are Family'.
Willow: Everything's perfect. Buffy - big smile.
[SCENE_BREAK]
At the prom. Everyone is standing, watching the stage. Xander is miming anticipation.
Announcer: And the award for Sunnydale High's Class Clown for 1999 goes to Jack Mayhew. The winner puts on a balloon hat and acts silly.
Xander: Please! Anybody can be a prop class clown. You know, none of the people who vote for these things are even funny. Buffy is at the punch bowl, ignoring the ruckus. The announcer urges Jonathan to the microphone.
Jonathan: We have one more award to give out. Is Buffy Summers here tonight? Did she, um... The crowd turns and finds her. She looks nervous at the attention.
Jonathan: This is actually a new category. First time ever. I guess there were a lot of write-in ballots, and, um, the prom committee asked me to read this. "We're not good friends. Most of us never found the time to get to know you, but that doesn't mean we haven't noticed you. We don't talk about it much, but it's no secret that Sunnydale High isn't really like other high schools. A lot of weird stuff happens here."
Crowd outbursts: Zombies! Hyena people! Snyder! (laughter)
Jonathan: "But, whenever there was a problem or something creepy happened, you seemed to show up and stop it. Most of the people here have been saved by you, or helped by you at one time or another. We're proud to say that the Class of '99 has the lowest mortality rate of any graduating class in Sunnydale history." (applause from the crowd) "And we know at least part of that is because of you. So the senior class, offers its thanks, and gives you, uh, this." Jonathan produces a multicolored, glittering, miniature umbrella with a small metal plaque attached to the shaft.
Jonathan: It's from all of us, and it has written here, "Buffy Summers, Class Protector." The crowd breaks into sustained applause and cheering. Buffy walks to the stage and takes her award. Later, Giles is watching the dancing and Wesley approaches him.
Wesley: Mr. Giles. I'd like your opinion. While the last thing I want to do is muddle bad behavior in front of impressionable youth, I wonder if asking Miss Chase to dance would...
Giles: For God's sake, man, she's eighteen. And you have the emotional maturity of a blueberry scone. Just have at it, would you, and stop fluttering about. (walks away)
Wesley: Right, then. Thanks for that.
Cut to the dance floor. Wesley and Cordelia begin to dance. Pan to Xander and Anya, dancing close.
Anya: This isn't bad.
Cut to Buffy, watching the dancers. Giles comes up behind her.
Giles: You did good work tonight, Buffy.
Buffy: And I got a little toy surprise.
Giles: I had no idea that children en masse could be gracious.
Buffy: Every now and then, people surprise you.
Giles: (looking past her) Every now and then. Giles takes her umbrella and leaves. Buffy turns to see Angel at the door. They meet.
Buffy: I never thought you'd come.
Angel: It's a big night. I didn't want to miss it. It's just tonight. It doesn't mean that I ...
Buffy: I know. I mean, I understand.
Angel: Dance with me? They dance.
BLACK OUT


THE SUN MAKERS
BY: ROBERT HOLMES
Part Four
Running time: 24:57
[SCENE_BREAK]
COLLECTOR: That noise, Hade. Can't something be done about it? We shan't hear her.
HADE: It's vibration in the exchanger, your Magnificence.
COLLECTOR: I know what it is. I don't want my pleasure ruined by it.
MARN: Her cries will be clearly audible, your Honour.
COLLECTOR: What's that? The subtleties will be lost. The deeper notes of despair, the final dying cadences. The whole point of a good steaming is the range it affords.
HADE: Marn. Er, no. I'll see if the discriminator can be adjusted, your Immensity.
[SCENE_BREAK]
MANDRELL: Doctor, can you hear me?
[SCENE_BREAK]
MANDRELL (OOV.): I can't give you any longer.
[SCENE_BREAK]
MANDRELL: The exchanger's going to blow any second.
[SCENE_BREAK]
MANDRELL (OOV.): Get out, Doctor. Get out of there!
COLLECTOR: What was it?
HADE: I thought I heard someone say Doc-Tor, your Sagacity. It wasn't the girl. There hasn't been a peep out of her.
COLLECTOR: Precisely, Hade. Something has gone wrong. Order the guards to investigate.
HADE: Immediately, your Omniscience. Come along, Marn!
[SCENE_BREAK]
SYNGE: Flow valves open.
MANDRELL: Main pumps in.
SYNGE: Sixty atmospheres, still rising.
MANDRELL: Plug auxiliaries in. Quick!
SYNGE: Auxiliaries in. She's cooling, look.
MANDRELL: We've made it. Unless the air plates have buckled, Synge.
SYNGE: Let's hope they haven't.
CORDO: Do you think the Doctor got out in time?
BISHAM: If he didn't, he wouldn't have known much about it.
MANDRELL: We gave him his two minutes. More than his two minutes.
CORDO: Listen. In the vent! He's made it!
CORDO: Leela!
DOCTOR: Who was making all that noise?
MANDRELL: I was, Doctor.
DOCTOR: I told you not to use that radio link.
BISHAM: We had to tell you that your time was up, Doctor.
DOCTOR: You told the Collector, too! That fish-blooded sadist had Leela's casket wired for sound.
LEELA: What's happening? What's he doing here?
CORDO: We've sired a revolution, Leela. Down with the Company, eh, fellas!
DOCTOR: Ah, ah, Cordo. We've got a great deal to do yet.
BISHAM: It's going well, though, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Is it?
BISHAM: The PCM is clearing from the air faster than I expected. It's down ten points already.
MANDRELL: All my men are out putting some fight into the work units. If just one District joins the resistance the word'll spread through the whole City.
DOCTOR: Shush. Where's the public video system controlled from?
MANDRELL: The Collector's Palace.
BISHAM: Yes, he runs everything from the Computer room. Why, Doctor?
DOCTOR: If the public video system announced there'd been a successful rebellion, think of the effect.
LEELA: Everyone would believe it.
DOCTOR: Right.
BISHAM: Yes, but the Palace is guarded by his Inner Retinue.
DOCTOR: He's guarded by his Inner Retinue, and most of them are down there with him. Come on, Leela, let's go.
LEELA: MegroGuards! MegroGuards coming this way!
DOCTOR: Everybody keep calm, keep calm. Keep quiet. You two back there. You three over there. Leela, behind the door.
SYNGE: What do you want here?
CORDO: All right, drop your guns.
DOCTOR: All right, tie them up.
DOCTOR: Pretty soon the whole place will be under siege here. K9? (to Bisham) I want you to hold out as long as possible.
BISHAM: Yes, Doctor.
CORDO: We'll do it, Doctor.
DOCTOR: Of course you will.
CORDO: Now we have more weapons, we can hold the corridor.
DOCTOR: Good man. K9?
LEELA: K9?
DOCTOR: K9?
ALL: K9?
DOCTOR: K9, where are you?
K9: Master.
DOCTOR: Ah, there you are. Now, listen. I want you to give my friends all the help they need. You understand?
K9: I am at full offensive capability, master.
DOCTOR: You're a good dog. Come on, Leela. Gentlemen, good luck.
BISHAM: Thank you, Doctor.
MANDRELL: Right, Doctor.
[SCENE_BREAK]
COLLECTOR: An unprofitable operation, Hade.
HADE: Your Supernal Eminence, I simply can't understand it. No one has ever endured a steaming without vocalising in the most gratifying fashion.
COLLECTOR: A complete waste of time. And we've lost point oh four seven percent in production. Unpaid overtime to be introduced immediately for all work grades. See to it!
HADE: Without fail, Monstrosity, without fail.
COLLECTOR: What is it?
COMMANDER: Your Excellence, sir. Some minor disturbances. It may not be wise to travel in the subways until the trouble has been suppressed.
COLLECTOR: What trouble?
COMMANDER: It appears that some of the work units are refusing to leave their dormers, Excellency.
HADE: Refusing to leave? I've never heard of such a thing.
COLLECTOR: This situation must be normalised. Any sustained unrest among the workforce will adversely affect Company profitability.
HADE: Sing adoration to our Company!
COMMANDER: I have dispatched a division of the retinue, Excellency. The account will be swiftly settled.
COLLECTOR: With interest, Commander. They must be made to pay.
HADE: I will introduce a swingeing output linked penalty tax in my next monthly budget, your Corpulence.
COLLECTOR: The Doctor must be behind it. I sense the vicious doctrine of egalitarianism, Hade.
HADE: Everyone knows your senses are infallible, your Promontory.
COLLECTOR: Have the guards reported from Main Control yet?
HADE: No, your Omnipresence. My underling Marn is investigating.
COLLECTOR: Not good enough, Hade. Not good enough. I am noting your work rate.
HADE: I will instigate action myself, your Aggrandizement. Instantly. Immediately.
[SCENE_BREAK]
CORDO: You'll never believe this, Bisham, but I'm really beginning to enjoy myself.
BISHAM: The air's better without PCM, isn't it.
SYNGE: Yes, we'll never pay breathing tax to the Company again.
MANDRELL: Oh, we'll pay no more taxes, brother. The Gatherer's got his last talmar off of us.
CORDO: I feel so good, like a new man!
MANDRELL: Keep an eye on the corridor, Cordo, or you'll be a dead new man.
CORDO: All right, Mandrell. I know. K9's got it covered.
SYNGE: I wonder what's happening in the subways and dormers?
BISHAM: Theoretically, the dispersion rate of the PCM should be slower down there, but there should be something happening by now.
MANDRELL: If the work units turn, the guard'll really have their hands full.
[SCENE_BREAK]
GUARD: Come on, move yourselves. Report for work at once. Work! Work!
GUARD: Collector's orders.
GOUDRY (OOV.): Strike, brother. Join us, or get out.
GUARD: Who said that? Who was it?
GOUDRY: Me. Nobody works today.
VEET: Nobody works today.
GUARD: That's mutiny against the Company. You've just earned yourself an early death day, Citizen.
[SCENE_BREAK]
DOCTOR: No, no, no.
LEELA: Why not?
DOCTOR: No, don't kill him. He hasn't done you any harm.
LEELA: Then I shall kill him before he does.
DOCTOR: No. Get up. Come on, get up.
LEELA: Doctor, the last one I spared got away and warned his comrades. That is why I was captured.
DOCTOR: Then we'll make sure this one doesn't get away. Here, look at me. Look at me! Now listen. It's your sleep time. Sleep time. You're feeling very sleepy. Very sleepy. It's your sleep time. You will go to sleep and stay asleep until I tell you to wake up. Until I tell you to wake up.
DOCTOR: Come on. Come on.
DOCTOR: Wake up.
LEELA: How did you do that?
DOCTOR: What, that? Poof, it's just a knack. You've either got it or you haven't.
LEELA: Doctor!
DOCTOR: What is it?
LEELA: This is where the grey one, the Collector, sat.
DOCTOR: What, like a spider in the middle of a web?
LEELA: Yes, yes.
DOCTOR: I understand all this. He has a computer feeding and analysing the daily returns from each Megropolis. Suppose. Suppose he wants to broadcast some pleasing bit of news, hmm? Like the imposition of a double vision tax on people with more than one eye. Well, then, he feeds it into there.
LEELA: He fed it into here.
DOCTOR: He did?
[SCENE_BREAK]
HADE: I fear the situation is worsening, your Grossness.
COLLECTOR: Laxity, Hade, laxity and weakness. You have shown them too much kindness. A grave error of judgment. Grinding oppression of the masses is the only policy that pays dividends.
HADE: Your Oratundity, my MegroGuards are outnumbered by the rabble. If I could have two divisions of the Inner Retinue?
COLLECTOR: The sole task of the Inner Retinue is to protect my person. You've mishandled the situation, Hade. As for your ambition to become Tax Master General. After this, forget it!
MARN: Your Honour.
HADE: What is it, Marn?
MARN: I've just heard that some of the work units have gone to the roof of Block Forty to look at our sun.
HADE: Outrageous! Sacrilege! The work units are absolutely forbidden to see the light of the sun. It's far too good for them. I'll soon deal with this.
COLLECTOR: A combat situation is escalating. Those idiots have let it get out of hand. It is imperative that I return to the Palace to implement my contingency plans.
COMMANDER: But Excellency, there's fighting in the
COLLECTOR: Quiet! The Inner Retinue will march around me in close order. Their bodies will shield me. Now hurry.
[SCENE_BREAK]
LEELA: Doctor, come here.
DOCTOR: That should do it.
LEELA: Doctor! What is this?
DOCTOR: What, that? It's a safe. Company vault.
LEELA: Doctor, is there
DOCTOR: Shush.
LEELA: Is there something behind the door?
DOCTOR: What was that?
LEELA: I heard nothing.
DOCTOR: Neither did I.
LEELA: Then why are we whispering?
DOCTOR: I always whisper when I'm opening safes. What is it?
LEELA: What are you doing?
DOCTOR: I don't know. It always looks so easy.
LEELA: Why was it locked?
DOCTOR: I don't know.
[SCENE_BREAK]
DOCTOR: Why won't you listen to me? Why don't you girls listen to me?
[SCENE_BREAK]
BISHAM: The PCM in the atmosphere has fallen to three parts in a thousand.
COMPUTER: Attention all Citizens. Attention all Citizens. Stand by for an important public bulletin. Megropolis One is now under the management of the Citizen's Revolution. The Director, the Tax Gatherer and all other Company officials are to be arrested on sight.
MANDRELL: It's happened.
[SCENE_BREAK]
COMPUTER: All guards are ordered to lay down their arms and join their fellow Citizens in peaceful cooperation.
CORDO: There! Stop or we fire. Get her!
MARN: Citizens, I'd like to join the Revolution.
[SCENE_BREAK]
COMPUTER: The rule of the Company is ended. All work places will remain closed until further notice. Long live the Revolution.
CORDO: Whee!
CORDO: It's over!
BISHAM: Cordo!
CORDO: We've won!
BISHAM: We haven't.
CORDO: What?
BISHAM: That bulletin was fixed. It was the Doctor trying to push things on a bit.
MANDRELL: That'll bring the whole city onto our side. I don't know why you're hesitating.
CORDO: Yes! We've got the guns, we should get out and help them.
MANDRELL: What do you think, Bisham?
BISHAM: Cordo's right. The fight has moved on from here.
MANDRELL: Synge. You can run things down here.
SYNGE: I suppose so, but leave K9 guarding the corridor, just in case, eh?
BISHAM: Yes, of course.
[SCENE_BREAK]
HADE: You there! What are you scum doing up here? This is an abominable crime. An outrage! Leave at once, do you hear me?
VEET: It's the Gatherer. It's the Gatherer!
HADE: I order you to leave. You'll pay dearly. Keep back! Don't you dare! I'm an official of the Company!
VEET: And we'll do the same for the Collector when we find him, won't we, Citizens.
ALL: Yes!
[SCENE_BREAK]
COLLECTOR: Kindly make less noise.
DOCTOR: Oh, I was just checking the books.
COLLECTOR: Your appearance is not unexpected.
DOCTOR: I'm not the Auditor, I'm the Doctor.
COLLECTOR: I know.
COLLECTOR: If you intend to kill me, as you see, I'm unarmed.
DOCTOR: No, I won't kill you. Just close you down.
COLLECTOR: An idle boast. Other competitors have tried. Would you care to see our prospectus?
DOCTOR: Oh, delighted, delighted.
DOCTOR: Hmm. Company solidly based. You've a widely diversified operational field. Yes.
COLLECTOR: You're a fool, Doctor. I shall have you steamed for your interference.
DOCTOR: Yes, I cut the answering service not to interrupt our little conference.
COLLECTOR: Very well. I see I underestimated you. What are your terms?
DOCTOR: Tell me about the Company.
COLLECTOR: Ah, you're interested.
DOCTOR: Yes.
COLLECTOR: Oh, an excellent outfit to work for, Doctor. Progress from medium to senior management level can be remarkably rapid for the talented executive.
DOCTOR: Yes, cut the sales talk. Where's the Head Office?
COLLECTOR: Usurius.
DOCTOR: Ah. I might have guessed from your squiddy little eyes. Hmm.
COLLECTOR: You are acquainted with our species?
DOCTOR: Oh yes, oh yes. The Usurians are listed in Professor Thripsted's Flora and Fauna of the Universe under poisonous fungi.
COLLECTOR: I don't entirely like your attitude. If you want to get on in the Company you have to what? What? Are you mad?
DOCTOR: Quite mad. Mad as a hatter.
DOCTOR: Tell me, how did you get control of humanity?
COLLECTOR: A normal business operation. The Company was looking for property in this sector, Earth was running down, it's people dying. We made a deal.
DOCTOR: Go on.
COLLECTOR: Yes. We moved them all to Mars.
[SCENE_BREAK]
COLLECTOR (OOV.): After our engineers had made that planet habitable for their species.
[SCENE_BREAK]
DOCTOR: And then taxed the life out of them. I mean, to recover your capital costs.
COLLECTOR: Quite so, quite so. Then, when the resources of Mars were exhausted in their turn, we created a new environment for them here on Pluto.
DOCTOR: Phew. What about the four intervening planets?
COLLECTOR: They weren't considered viable by our engineers.
DOCTOR: So then you really put the screws on. I mean, the running costs must be very high.
COLLECTOR: Six suns to be fueled and serviced.
DOCTOR: Six suns. Six! My, my. And so when this planet's exhausted you can move your slave labour force elsewhere?
COLLECTOR: Alas, no. There is nowhere else that is economic. This branch will close.
DOCTOR: Leaving the humans to die.
COLLECTOR: When the suns have run down, yes. A matter of a few years without fuel. They're not a good workforce in any case. Many of our other operations produce a much higher return with less labour.
DOCTOR: You blood-sucking leech! You won't stop until you own the entire galaxy, will you. Don't you think commercial imperialism is as bad as military conquest?
COLLECTOR: We have tried war, but the use of economic power is far more effective.
DOCTOR: You
DOCTOR: Ah. The revolution's getting nearer. What's the Company policy on that?
COLLECTOR: It will be quelled. Business will continue as usual.
DOCTOR: Oh, wake up. Wake up. Look at the facts.
COLLECTOR: I know the facts.
DOCTOR: You and a handful of bureaucrats won't put the people back in chains now.
COLLECTOR: Then they will die.
DOCTOR: Oh, it's you again. What did I say?
COLLECTOR: Our conference has gone on too long, Doctor. It is time to implement contingency plan A.
COLLECTOR: This switch controls the sprinkler valves throughout the City.
DOCTOR: Rain stops play. I don't think that'll damp down this revolution.
COLLECTOR: The sprinklers will release dianene, a deadly poison. Within ten seconds, everyone in the City will be dead.
DOCTOR: Except you.
COLLECTOR: Exactly. I do not breathe air.
DOCTOR: No, but this chap at my shoulder, he breathes air.
COLLECTOR: Kill him!
DOCTOR: Don't be a fool.
COLLECTOR: Guard, kill him!
DOCTOR: Good throw! Good throw.
DOCTOR: What's contingency plan B?
COLLECTOR: Nobody understands business is business.
LEELA: What do we do now, Doctor, kill him?
DOCTOR: You'll like this bit. You'll like it.
COLLECTOR: Nine zero nine! A mistake in the Megropolis Six analysis. Recheck!
COMPUTER: Nine zero nine. Recheck. Megropolis Six analysis confirmed correct.
COLLECTOR: Commander! Arrest these idiots. I have a problem. Nine zero nine. Megropolis Four analysis. Mistake. Recheck
COMPUTER: Nine zero nine.
CORDO: Collector, in the name of the work units, I order
LEELA: People, Cordo.
CORDO: Yes. In the name of the people I order you to be tried by
DOCTOR: Cordo, I don't think he's listening.
COLLECTOR: Negative surplus. Inflationary spiral uncheckable. Negative growth! This branch is no longer viable.
COLLECTOR: We are bankrupt. Business failure. Closure imperative. Cut losses. Liquidate. Immediate liquidation.
BISHAM: I'm sorry I'm late. What happened?
MANDRELL: Well, I don't know.
DOCTOR: I do. He's gone back to his natural form. He was only held in that state by particle radiation. That's why he never left that machine.
LEELA: You mean he's in there now?
DOCTOR: Oh, yes.
LEELA: Well, we could make a hole in it.
CORDO: Do you think he'll come out again?
DOCTOR: Well, you could put the plug in if you want.
COMMANDER: I don't understand. Why was it necessary for him to make himself look human?
DOCTOR: Well, if you'd seen a Usurian you'd know what I mean. They look like sea kale with eyes. I mean, would you take orders from a lump of seaweed? Huh? Hmm? Cordo?
[SCENE_BREAK]
DOCTOR: Leela, let K9 in the TARDIS. Goodbye, Cordo.
CORDO: I wish you could stay, Doctor. There is much to do.
DOCTOR: Well, I'll pop back and see you again when you've settled again on Earth.
BISHAM: That'll be hard work.
DOCTOR: Well, you're used to hard work. This time, you'll be free.
LEELA: Goodbye, Veet.
VEET: Goodbye.
LEELA: Till the next time? Come on, K9. Come on.
BISHAM: You really believe we can colonise the Earth again?
DOCTOR: Well, I do, I do. The Earth will have regenerated itself since you left. Get back to your place under your own sun.
ALL: Goodbye, Doctor.
MANDRELL: Can the star freighters make that journey?
DOCTOR: Course they will. Three hundred million of you can't go wrong. Goodbye everyone!
ALL: Goodbye.
[SCENE_BREAK]
K9: King to Bishop four, mistress.
DOCTOR: Which is more than I can say for the TARDIS.
LEELA: Eh?
DOCTOR: Nothing. I was just finishing a thought. Now, where were we?
K9: Mate in six moves, master.
DOCTOR: Oh, be quiet, K9.
LEELA: I wonder why the Collector gave in so easily? I thought he would fight.
DOCTOR: He got a bit of a shock. You see, I fed two percent growth tax into the computers. Index linked. Blew the economy and he couldn't take it.
LEELA: I do not understand. You did something clever?
DOCTOR: Well, I. What do you think, K9?
K9: Affirmative.
DOCTOR: K9 thinks it was clever.
DOCTOR: I am so sorry, K9.
K9: Apologies are not necessary.
DOCTOR: No, shut up while I apologise. I am so. Listen. As soon as I've reset the coordinates, we'll finish that game of chess.


(Flashback: Sydney sits on a stool, tears in her eyes, staring numbly at nothing while a trainer wraps her hands with gauze. He slaps at her hands to feel if they're wrapped.)
TRAINER: Good.
(SD-6. Sydney sits at her desk. Jack approaches.)
JACK: I heard about Noah... I'm sorry.
(She just sits there, staring at nothing.)
(In the weight room, Sydney hits the punching bag.)
TRAINER: Come on, come on. Hit the bag!
(In the blood donor van parked on campus, Sydney and Vaughn chit chat.)
SYDNEY: I killed a man... someone I cared about.
VAUGHN: Noah Hicks was an assassin. If you hadn't killed him, he would have killed you.
SYDNEY: Maybe. But I was the one who forced the fight.
VAUGHN: Hicks was a bad guy.
(Sydney works out, hitting the bag even harder.)
TRAINER: Work that jab! Work it! That's it, work that thing! That's it! Nice combination! Work that jab!
(Sydney kicks the bag and the trainer stumbles back from the force.)
(Blood donor van.)
SYDNEY: But the truth is, it affects me. Never knowing who to trust, learning to expect betrayal, plotting in secrecy and hatred and anger.
(Punching.)
TRAINER: That's it!
SYDNEY: (voice over) It's becoming a part of me. I am becoming what I despise.
(Blood donor van.)
SYDNEY: I tell myself I got into this to bring Danny's killers to justice. The truth is, I'm more interested in revenge.
(Sydney is starting to lose it; punching the bag without much control.)
SYDNEY: (voice over) I thought I could stay in control. It's just gotten so twisted.
(Blood donor.)
SYDNEY: Like with Khasinau. The one tangible goal is to find him so that I can find my mother. But if I do that, if I can find his trail and track him down, it'll strengthen SD-6.
(In the training room, Sydney is now breathing hard and sweaty. Hair is stuck to her face with sweat. She takes off her glove to see that blood has seeped through the bandage. Bright red blood soaks through the white bandage.)
SYDNEY: (voice over) I got into this to bring them down and now I feel like I'm on their side.
(In the blood donor van, Vaughn looks at Sydney for a moment, not knowing how to explain. He suddenly gets up and moves to the counter. He gets out the map he revealed to her in episode two and spreads it out in front of her once again.)
VAUGHN: This is the world of SD-6 when we started. Remember?
(Sydney can only nod with tears in her eyes. Vaughn flips over a transparent cover that reveals who's been taken out since he first showed it to her. Little red circles with a slice through it are over the map.)
VAUGHN: And here is what it looks like today. And this doesn't even take into account things like Badenweiler or stealing page forty-seven from Sloane's vault. Or the way you kept Khasinau from getting his hands on that ampule. Sydney, these are incredible accomplishments.
SYDNEY: Khasinau is out there somewhere.
VAUGHN: Yes.
SYDNEY: My mom is out there.
VAUGHN: (sighs) We will find them.
SYDNEY: I have to go to class.
(She smiles helplessly and gets up to leave. When she walks by him, he stops her by taking her hand.)
VAUGHN: Wait.
(He gets up and takes out a first aid kit from one of the cupboards. He takes out an ice pack, breaks it up to react it, and places it on her bruised and bloody knuckles.)
VAUGHN: Take care of yourself.
SYDNEY: Thanks...
(Francie and Sydney's house. Will is on his hands and knees in the kitchen while Francie stands back at the counter.)
WILL: Where was it?
FRANCIE: Behind the fridge.
WILL: You say you saw it?
FRANCIE: No, I didn't see it. I heard it. Scratching.
WILL: Okay, I'm going to go to the hardware store. I'll go get some traps.
FRANCIE: No, no, no. We need a professional. We need a hit man. If there's one, there are a thousand. Rats breed hourly.
(Will's cell rings.)
WILL: Hello?
DEEP THROAT: You disappoint me, Mr. Tippin.
WILL: (to Francie) It's Litvack. Uhh...
(He walks outside through the patio doors for some privacy.)
DEEP THROAT: You have enough to publish. You have nothing to fear.
WILL: I was kidnapped! The lives of the people I care about were threatened!
DEEP THROAT: It's a bluff to scare you off the story.
WILL: Well, you know what? It worked. I'm off it.
(Will hangs up and looks in at Francie, who is flipping through a phone book innocently. The cell rings again.)
WILL: Just go away! Don't call me again!
DEEP THROAT: Mr. Tippin--
WILL: Don't call anyone else again unless you want more people to die!
DEEP THROAT: It was Jack Bristow.
WILL: What? What? Wait, what's Jack Bristow? Hello? Hello?
(Sydney comes home after her classes.)
FRANCIE: We have rats.
SYDNEY: What?
WILL: Hi.
(Tape screwed up.)
SYDNEY: Hi. Mice are better than rats.
FRANCIE: There's no way that they're mice. They're rats, and they're huge. The exterminator is coming between noon and three. Think you can be here?
SYDNEY: No, I've got work.
FRANCIE: Well, I have to cater a lunch for thirty.
(They both look at Will.)
WILL: I don't live here.
SYDNEY: Then why are you always here?
FRANCIE: Yeah, I mean, it's not like you pay any rent.
WILL: What is this, attack on Will? My God.
SYDNEY: Please, just do this for us.
(She smiles at him.)
WILL: Okay, fine, I'll do it.
FRANCIE: See, the thing about rats is they're clever. You have to out think them. You can't really just leave out cheese. You have to leave the good stuff. The heavy-duty stuff. The stuff that they want. It's the only way they're going to come out. Otherwise, you're just wasting your time.
(Self-storage. Sydney and Vaughn have a pow-wow.)
SYDNEY: I can't believe I didn't think of this before. We can make Khasinau come to us.
VAUGHN: What are you thinking?
SYDNEY: The vial of liquid. The Rambaldi solution.
VAUGHN: The one the CIA now has?
SYDNEY: That's why Khasinau had a team to break into SD-6. He wants that solution.
(Director Devlin's office at the CIA. Vaughn enters.)
VAUGHN: Sir, with respect to Alexander Khasinau, I'd like to suggest a course of action.
DEVLIN: Quickly. I've got a meeting with the senior review team from NIC.
VAUGHN: Remember the ampule? The vial of liquid we got from SD-6 that allowed us to read page forty-seven of the Rambaldi manuscript?
DEVLIN: Uh-huh.
(Back to self-storage.)
SYDNEY: What I'm suggesting is a black market sale. Third party.
VAUGHN: Hold on. Khasinau still thinks that vial is in the SD-6 vault.
SYDNEY: Yes. So we say there's another one.
VAUGHN: What? You think we can make Khasinau believe that?
SYDNEY: Yes.
VAUGHN: You're going to have to make it sound pretty legit.
SYDNEY: I think I know how to do that.
(Flashback: Sydney, Dixon, Sloane, and two unidentified agents sit in the conference room. Sloane gives the two unknown agents folders for a mission.)
SYDNEY: (voice over) Last year, Sloane sent a team of agents into the Carafu Art Museum in Algiers after an Opec minister donated a collection that Sloane believed might contain Rambaldi artifacts.
(Self storage.)
VAUGHN: Wait. Why don't I know about this?
SYDNEY: Because the mission failed. The agents were caught.
(Flashback: The two agents are being dragged, handcuffed, to another van for transport. A car drives by and a masked man -- who, IMO looks kind of like Jack -- leans out the passenger side with a machine gun and blasts away.)
SYDNEY: (voice over) Before they could even be questioned, SD-6 had them killed.
(Self-storage.)
SYDNEY: Say there was a break-in at that museum this week. It would be widely publicized. Khasinau would start to hear rumors of what was taken.
VAUGHN: Including rumors of an existing second ampule.
(Devlin's office.)
DEVLIN: Are you suggesting that I approve the theft of priceless works of art?
VAUGHN: You see, sir, we would just be borrowing them.
(Self-storage, continuing.)
SYDNEY: We'd return everything we steal through back channels, but not until after we've made contact with Khasinau. The whole point is to get noticed.
(Devlin's office.)
DEVLIN: "We"? You're proposing to go with her?
VAUGHN: I-I know I'm not a field agent, but SD-6 isn't in on this and Agent Bristow will need backup. She trusts me. Now, the plan is to go in as insurance agents offering to lower their premium. Naturally, we would have to inspect their security system thoroughly before we commit any coverage.
(SD-6 archives. Sydney sits a laptop, typing.)
SYDNEY: (voice over) I downloaded the mission specs from the SD-6 archives. Alarm types at the museum, action point, blueprints...
(Self-storage.)
SYDNEY: ...Everything.
(Devlin's office.)
VAUGHN: Sir, this is our best shot at Khasinau.
DEVLIN: Do it.
(Self-storage.)
SYDNEY: You'll deal with the op tech.
VAUGHN: I'll take care of it.
SYDNEY: I have to stop by the hospital. Emily. She's not doing well.
VAUGHN: Yeah, she's sick from the chemo.
(Sydney looks at him.)
VAUGHN: We heard that from the bug in Sloane's study. I'm sorry.
SYDNEY: Yeah. Thanks.
(Francie and Sydney's. Will's alone and on the phone.)
WILL: Can I get the number for Druzinsky's Pest Control? Sure, yeah. D-R-U--Yeah. Hold--let me just get a pen.
(He opens a drawer, looking for a pen.)
WILL: Hold on. Yeah, hold on just a sec.
(He pulls out a black marker.)
WILL: Okay, got it. Yeah. 323--
(Knock.)
WILL: Naturally the guy shows up. Right, sorry.
(He hangs up and answers the door.)
WILL: Hi.
PEST CONTROL: How you doing?
WILL: Good. Good.
PEST CONTROL: Where's the problem?
WILL: Uh, well, we got rats over here. Behind the refrigerator.
PEST CONTROL: Let me see your rats.
(In the kitchen, he bends down and takes out a flashlight.)
PEST CONTROL: Not wood... droppings...
(Will looks at the open drawer and sees a picture of Jack in there. It's an old picture.)
PEST CONTROL: Yeah, these are rat droppings.
WILL: Well, uh, kill 'em. Please.
PEST CONTROL: You got kids?
(Will opens another drawer to find the aluminum foil and plastic wrap. He opens the wrap and rips off a sheet.)
WILL: No...
PEST CONTROL: Household pets? Dogs, cats? Hello?
(Will's busy. He puts the sheet of plastic wrap over Jack's picture and then takes the black marker he had. He draws a mask with the marker over Jack's face.)
WILL: What? No. I don't have any pets.
PEST CONTROL: Then I'd skip traps and go right to bait.
(Will stares at the finished product -- and has a flashback of his kidnapper.)
MAN: This will be your only warning.
(Will looks at Jack's covered face, and the eyes. They're the same as his kidnapper.)
WILL: Holy...
(Emily's hospital room.)
EMILY: Sydney...
SYDNEY: I don't know if you feel well enough to eat these but... total contraband.
(She shows a box of chocolates and sits down.)
EMILY: Thank you.
SYDNEY: I'm so sorry you have to go through this.
EMILY: Oh, Sydney, tell me something happy.
SYDNEY: Happy.
EMILY: Yeah.
SYDNEY: Well... I've got the week off from work. Which is nothing, considering your husband owes me, like fifty comp days. But I've been working really hard lately, so...
(Emily covers Sydney's hands with her own.)
EMILY: Can I give you some advice?
SYDNEY: Please.
EMILY: When you look back... family, your friends... that's what matters. Work, your job. It wouldn't seem that important.
(Sydney nods a little, curious.)
EMILY: Even your job... even working for SD-6.
(Sydney's shocked.)
(In a control room at the hospital -- clearly this is the SD-6 hospital Dixon was admitted to -- an agent sits behind a counter with monitors everywhere. He watches the monitor on Emily's room.)
EMILY: Sydney, I know you can't talk about it and I wouldn't have mentioned it except I know how easy it is to lose perspective on things...
(Back in the hospital room.)
EMILY: And I don't want to see that happen to you.
SYDNEY: When... when did Arvin tell you?
EMILY: He didn't. Over the years, I'd overhear things. Find clues that he never really left the world of intelligence. And I know he... he keeps me from the truth to protect me. To keep me from worrying. My only regret is not being able to tell him how... how proud I am.
(In the control room, the agent starts typing.)
(Conference room at SD-6. Jack sits alone. Sydney walks in and sits down next to him. Jack takes out his magic pen -- the frequency jammer -- and flips the lid.)
JACK: We're good for two minutes.
SYDNEY: Dad, it's Emily. She knows about SD-6. I'm just worried about her.
JACK: I know. It's too late. Your coversation was recorded.
SYDNEY: The Alliance knows?
JACK: Yes.
SYDNEY: And?
(Sloane's office. He sits behind his desk when the phone rings. He answers.)
JACK: (voice over) Information about SD-6 must be treated like a virus.
SLOANE: (on phone) Who?
JACK: (voice over) There is only one response: containment.
SLOANE: (on phone) What did you say?
(Conference room.)
SYDNEY: Sloane won't let this happen. They won't kill Emily.
JACK: The final decision will not be made until after Sloane has met with the head of Alliance security. He is the only one who can save her now.
(Sydney walks out of the conference room and looks in at Sloane's office. He looks depressed. She walks in.)
SYDNEY: The time off I asked for last week... I'd still like to take it. Would that be all right?
SLOANE: Where are you going?
SYDNEY: The desert.
SLOANE: Yeah. Yes. Of course.
SYDNEY: Thank you.
SLOANE: The desert... (sighs) Hmm.
(She turns and leaves.)
(Algeria. Sydney and Vaughn who both harbor French accents, walk with two museum officials and a translator.)
SYDNEY: To make a risk analysis, we will need to test your security system.
(He translates into Arabic.)
SYDNEY: ...See how it operates during a shutdown of your primary generator, heating, electircal, and ventilation system.
(He translates.)
(Flashback. On the plane to Algeria, Sydney and Vaughn go over the plans.)
VAUGHN: Once we're in, we'll need to separate. You'll go inspect the alarm grid in the exhibition space. I'll handle the shutdown from the control room with this frequency jammer. It'll keep the security cameras off for three minutes. A hundred and eighty seconds is all you got.
(In the control room, Vaughn is with the translator and one of the museum heads.)
VAUGHN: Please shut down the primary generator.
(Translates into Arabic. They shut it down. Vaughn takes out the jammer. The cameras go down as well. He starts timing it on a digital watch he wears while the men start questioning why the cameras went down.)
TRANSLATOR: He says he can't understand what happened. The second generator has always kept the security monitors online before.
(Plane.)
VAUGHN: And when I close out the ventilation system--
SYDNEY: The turbine in the shaft will shut down, allowing me to gain access to the vault room on "E" level.
(Control room.)
VAUGHN: Now shut down the ventilation.
(Translates.)
(In a hallway somewhere in the museum, Sydney is walking with the other museum head. She throws her briefcase at his neck and he stumbles back. She kicks him twice. The man goes down. Sydney runs. She takes off her jacket and pulls out a power screwdriver from the briefcase and starts taking off the vent cover.)
(Vaughn checks his watch nervously -- twenty seconds has gone by.)
(Sydney takes off the vent cover. She takes out a shooter, arms it, and points it skyward. The shooter's wire flies up. At the end of the wire, it has a series of prongs on it. The wire attachs itself to the fan blades high above. Sydney, down below, feels the tension, knows it's tight, and attaches it to her belt. She looks down. It's a long way down the shaft. She jumps out into the shaft and hangs on as the cord attached to the fan blades lets her dangle way below. She hits a switch on her belt and starts dropping down.)
(In the control room.)
VAUGHN: And now keep the heating system offline.
(Translates. Vaughn looks at his watch -- forty-nine seconds.)
(Sydney drops down, looking at a meter on the wire in front of her that tells her how many feet she's going down.)
(Plane.)
VAUGHN: The vault room is located through a shaft on the east wall, sixty-seven feet below the main level.
(The meter beeps at sixty-seven. Sydney stops dropping and kicks the vent cover in. She stands in the hallway outside the vault room, loosens the wire to get some slack so she can walk in the vault room and still remain tied up to the fan.)
(Plane.)
VAUGHN: According to the document you gave me, the vault is a third-generation Handvalova.
(Sydney reaches across him and picks up a cell phone.)
VAUGHN: Careful with that. It's full of plastique explosives in case this doesn't work.
(He picks up a silver bracelet and puts it around Sydney's wrist.)
VAUGHN: Now, in theory, not only should this crack the safe...
(Sydney puts it on the vault door.)
VAUGHN: (voice over) It should short the circuitry for two minutes, giving you enough time to get back to the main level before the alarm goes off.
(Sydney opens the vault door and starts taking stuff and putting it in her bag.)
(In the control room, Vaughn looks at his watch -- a hundred and twenty seconds.)
VAUGHN: And electrical.
(Translates. All of a sudden, a man bursts into the room shouting in Arabic.)
VAUGHN: What is going on?
PRESIDENT: I agreed to a system analysis...
TRANSLATOR: Mr. Algazabia is the president of the museum.
PRESIDENT: ...Not to a shutdown.
VAUGHN: We are testing the security system. So far, everything is okay.
TRANSLATOR: He has ordered the power restored.
VAUGHN: No, no, no, wait, wait, wait. My partner and I flew in from Paris because we were assured the possibility to make a complete offer! Now, to do that, we must run a thorough analysis! Si vous alliez pas nous laisser faire notre travail, il fallait nous le dire avant qu'on fasse tous les préparatifs pour venir venir, hein!
PRESIDENT: When the system is offline, essential services go down, including fire protection. That is a risk I cannot take!
(In the vault, Sydney takes a few more things.)
[SCENE_BREAK]
(Control room. Vaughn is panicked.)
VAUGHN: I'm warning you, I will file a formal complaint with the legal department!
PRESIDENT: (speaks Arabic) Take him. Find his partner. Show them the way out.
(Angrily, Vaughn grabs his things and is escorted out. The president orders the man sitting at the desk to restore the power. In the shaft, the fan blades start to whir. Sydney, in the vault, turns when she feels tension. As the fan starts up, the cord that was attached starts tightening around the blades and Sydney is pulled in the shaft by her waist because she is still attached as well. She flies in the shaft and bangs against the shaft wall. She looks up, terrified, to see that she'll be heading toward the fan blades because she can't stop it when the power is on. She sees the opening is coming up where she entered the shaft. As she is pulled up, she grabs on to the edge of the entryway while she is still being pulled up. She hits a button and the belt lets go. Sydney bangs into the wall, still hanging on to the ledge. Her hip hits the wall of the shaft and the phone riddled with explosives falls from her belt and falls to the bottom of the shaft. It explodes. The fire is hurdling up the shaft with Sydney still hanging on inside. She finally gets inside and falls into the hallway of the museum as the fire goes up the shaft. She grabs her jacket and her things and leaves.)
(In the lobby of the museum, Vaughn is being escorted out as Sydney meets up with them, back in her costume.)
SYDNEY: What's going on?
VAUGHN: We're being kicked out. I didn't have time to finish my system analysis. Did you?
(The alarms go off.)
SYDNEY: Barely.
(In the newspaper offices, Will's friend Abby types on her laptop while listening to some music from her stereo next to her. Will walks up, and turns up the music.)
ABBY: Excuse me!
WILL: (whispers) Listen to me, listen to me. I really need your help, okay?
(Outside the newspaper, Will holds a manilla envelope.)
ABBY: Wait a minute. You've got to give me more details than that!
WILL: No, no, no, no details.
ABBY: You were kidnapped?
WILL: Here, just--
ABBY: By a man who turns out to be someone you know's father?
WILL: Yes, yes--
ABBY: What is this?
(She takes the envelope.)
WILL: This is an article I've written. Abby, you've got to do this for me. Make sure you keep it sealed, and don't mention this to anyone. And you got to promise me you're not going to open it, unless something happens to me. And if something happens to me, you got to publish it.
ABBY: Why would something happen?
WILL: Because I'm going to see my kidnapper.
ABBY: Oh, Will, you've become insane!
WILL: I have enough information that maybe I can write a story that might raise some questions, but I don't have anything that's going to put this guy away!
ABBY: Well, publish the story now. That's your insurance policy!
WILL: Yeah, but then I'll never get his cooperation! I mean, there's got to be a bigger story here. I want to find out what it is. Abby... you got to promise me you're not going to open it.
ABBY: Promise me I won't have to.
(That night, Jack comes out of Credit Dauphine and walks to his car. Will starts up his truck.)
(At a fancy bar, Jack sits and takes a drink. Will sits down next to him.)
WILL: (sighs) There are a few things we need to talk about and, quite frankly, you scare me, so I'd rather talk about them in a public place. Can I have a beer, please?
JACK: You want to talk to me? About what?
WILL: Let's start with Sydney. Does she know?
JACK: I don't know what you're talking about.
WILL: Does she know that you kidnapped me?
JACK: (laughs) I think you have me confused with someone else.
(The bartender sets a beer down in front of Will.)
WILL: Thanks. (looks at Jack) No, I don't. I wrote a story. No one's seen it yet, but if I die, it's going to get published. It's a story I don't even want to work on anymore.
JACK: Will, you seem very upset.
WILL: Yeah, I am, 'cause it just won't go away! This source who told me about you, won't let it. I don't even know where he lives. I don't know where he works, so you can't beat it out of me. But he knows. He knows everything. I mean, he gives me hints and clues and he's never wrong. Now, I don't... I don't know if you work for SD-6, or if you're responsible for the deaths of Daniel Hecht and Eloise Kurtz. I don't even know if you're protecting Sydney, or if she needs to be protected from you, but just tell me what you know. Convince me that you put Sydney's interests first. That in some sick, bizarre twist of fate, you and I are on the same side.
JACK: My concern for Sydney is not yours to judge.
WILL: Convince me by helping me put a stop to what's going on and uh, in return, I'll... uh, I'll help you find out who my source is because I got a feeling that he's somebody that you'd like to meet.
(He lays down his card and walks out. Jack takes a big drink.)
(That night, a man brings Jack to the back door of Devlin's home. Devlin wraps a robe around himself and opens the door.)
DEVLIN: Thanks, Ethan.
(Ethan leaves.)
JACK: There's been a breach. Without containment, our entire operation could be compromised.
DEVLIN: What's the source?
JACK: Best guess, a whistle-blower well placed within the Agency with access to omega seventeen files. He's been talking to a reporter. You should put counterintelligence on it right away. They should start with Steven Haladki.
DEVLIN: Haladki?
JACK: He fits the profile. Agent rising in rank. Opposed to company policy regarding SD-6. Internal efforts to change policy thwarted. So he takes it out on the building.
DEVLIN: That's a pretty big charge, Jack.
JACK: The source is putting Sydney's life at risk.
DEVLIN: Haladki filed a report on the prophecy. He said you threatened him at gunpoint to get information on where the bureau was holding Sydney.
JACK: Yes. And then I used that information to hold other FBI agents at gunpoint in order to free my daughter from a witch hunt. You need to get CI on this tonight.
DEVLIN: I want you to stop. I hear your concerns and I will choose how to respond to them myself. You're a good agent, Jack, but lately, I find your methods reprehensible. If I hear of one more instance of you acting off book, you're done.
(He closes the door in Jack's face.)
(At Francie and Sydney's, Francie sits at the counter while Sydney sits on the sofa, thinking.)
FRANCIE: I'm gonna send flowers to Will for babysitting our rodents. What do you think the card should say?
SYDNEY: I had s*x with someone.
FRANCIE: (laughs) Seriously.
(Sydney looks at her. Francie realizes she's serious.)
FRANCIE: What? When?
(She comes around and sits next to Sydney.)
SYDNEY: About a week ago.
FRANCIE: When were you going to tell me?
SYDNEY: I know, I just... it was Noah Hicks.
FRANCIE: Oh.
SYDNEY: I know how you feel about Noah.
FRANCIE: So, what, did he just call you up?
SYDNEY: No. It was a trip. It was a business trip. We just sort of picked up where we left off.
FRANCIE: Well, how is he?
SYDNEY: He is... it didn't end well.
FRANCIE: Well, I'm not surprised. He was never good enough for you. I mean, anybody who would just dump you like that and walk away? He doesn't deserve a second chance.
SYDNEY: People change.
FRANCIE: No, they don't. I mean, what if I started dating Charlie again?
SYDNEY: No, I know...
FRANCIE: Hey, you're really down about this, aren't you?
SYDNEY: A little. There's nothing to be done about it. I mean... it's over. I just wanted to let you know.
FRANCIE: Well, maybe you're right. Maybe I am being a little too tough on Noah. Hey, if he calls, I'll try and be nice, okay?
(Marshall's office. Marshall is at his desk, drawing an intricate pattern on an paper house. Sloane enters.)
SLOANE: Marshall, get me the last bioscan profile on Edward Poole.
(Marshall closes the book and the house. Sloane stares at it for a second.)
MARSHALL: Sure, right away. That's a pop-up book. Making them clears my mind. It helps me--feel free to dock me any amount you feel is... oh, here you go. This is interesting. When he came through the scanning room, he was carrying two phones.
SLOANE: Can you locate them?
MARSHALL: Yeah. (types) There.
SLOANE: Good. I have one phone number on Poole. I ran a tap on it but I couldn't find...
(He looks out the window of the office and sees the head of security for the Alliance walk through and enter his office.)
SLOANE: ...Any leads on Khasinau.
MARSHALL: Well, I can probably track down the second one.
SLOANE: Just get me the other number right now.
(Sloane walks out and enters his office.)
SECURITY: Let me begin by saying I know how difficult this is and that if there was any other way--
SLOANE: My wife is dying.
SECURITY: I understand.
SLOANE: She has lymphoma.
SECURITY: Yes. We have both video and audio. This isn't an issue of confirmation.
SLOANE: No. No, this is an issue of decency.
SECURITY: The time and date have been set--
SLOANE: She is my wife! I am not just going to sit back and allow you to eliminate her!
SECURITY: When I first came into the Alliance, my closest friend was Jean Briault. He took me into his confidence. He guided me. He was my mentor. But when Briault was murdered at point-blank range, I didn't ask any questions. I didn't talk of decency.
SLOANE: Jean Briault was my friend, too. His murder was a tragedy. I'm just trying to prevent another.
SECURITY: The Alliance knows you disregarded their policy and pursued Khasinau. They're going to want to see evidence that your priorities are in order.
SLOANE: (stands) Are you suggesting that I allow you to kill my wife to enhance my standing within the Alliance?
(Newspaper. Mail call. The mail guy drops an envelope on Will's desk. He looks at it. Written on the front is only his name, and no address. He pulls out a sheet of paper.)
(At a clearing, Will drives up where Jack is already there in front of his own car, waiting. Will gets out, looking a little wary and scared.)
JACK: I work in intelligence. That is all you need to know.
WILL: So, the bank, Credit Dauphine, that's, like a front company?
JACK: You and I meet only when and where I decide. Never contact me.
WILL: Okay, when you say intelligence, you mean SD-6, right? It's like some off-the-books division--
JACK: We go after the source first. Everything else comes later. Are we clear?
WILL: (sighs) Does Sydney know?
(Pause.)
WILL: Jack? Is your daughter a part of this?
JACK: No, she's not. Now... are we clear?
(Will breathes a huge sigh of relief.)
WILL: Yes.
JACK: Do you have a way of contacting your source?
WILL: Yeah, yeah. I have a transmitter. It's a pin. I found it in a box of stuff belonging to Eloise Kurtz.
(Jack bristles.)
WILL: What?
JACK: I planted that pin on Eloise Kurtz.
WILL: Of course, that's right! Neville said it was government issue. So... you hired her to play Kate Jones so she could lie to me and when she said too much... you had her killed!
(Horrified, Will backs up against his truck.)
JACK: I did not kill her. But I bear some responsibility for her death, as do you. Focus, Mr. Tippin! Do as I insist or more people will die!
WILL: Okay, why don't I contact Deep Throat and I'll insist upon a meeting, and then--
JACK: He told you about me. If you ask for a meeting, he'll know it's a set-up. You will contact him. Tell him you know I was the one who kidnapped you and that you are terrified. Then tell him you are back on the story. This meeting never took place.
(Jack gets in his car and drives away, tires squealing.)
(Conference room with Dixon, Marshall and Sloane.)
SLOANE: Edward Poole was a friend, a visitor to this office, a former operative with MI-6. Recently, I was shocked to learn he has become an ally of Khasinau. So, I asked Marshall to examine his scanning room profile to see if he can come up with any leads. Marshall?
MARSHALL: Thanks. Now, this is really good.
(Self-storage. Sydney walks in.)
VAUGHN: I take it you've seen the news?
SYDNEY: It's sort of perfect, right?
VAUGHN: So far, so good.
SYDNEY: Have you contacted the broker?
VAUGHN: Yeah. I stopped in Lisbon on my way back. I told him I was hired by the men who pulled off the robbery.
SYDNEY: Who?
VAUGHN: A splinter group of the Raslak jihad.
SYDNEY: How much did you say you wanted for the solution?
VAUGHN: Ten million. And I gave him the sat phone and said we would only field offers during that agreed upon window.
SYDNEY: Good. My father disabled the SD-6 satcon intercept so there's no way Sloane can find out about this transmission.
(Conference room.)
MARSHALL: Okay, based on RF transmissions, we were able to intercept the signal between Pool's cell and the com tower. From that, we were able to set up a wire tap on his STU -- secure telephone unit.
(Marshall hits a button on a remote to play the sound of the phone dialing.)
MARSHALL: See, then we were able to get Khasinau's number, and run a tap on him.
(Self-storage.)
VAUGHN: We heard from the broker this morning. Apparently, Khasinau is willing to pay double our asking price in diamonds.
SYDNEY: Is Khasinau going to meet us?
VAUGHN: No. He's sending Sark.
(Conference room.)
SLOANE: This is a text of a conversation our tap picked up this morning between Khasinau and Mr. Sark. You will recall the ampule that McKenas Cole stole from us on behalf of Khasinau. At the time, we believed there was only one ampule in existence. This conversation indicates the existence of two.
DIXON: It says here that Sark and a splinter group of the Raslak jihad have agreed on the number of men and materiel each side can bring to the meeting.
(Self-storage.)
VAUGHN: The deal allows for each side to have only one principal and two backups located in the marketplace.
(Conference room.)
SLOANE: If they bring two, we bring four.
(Self-storage.)
VAUGHN: Now, when you and Sark meet, you will actually be able to test each other's merchandise, which is why we need to give him the real Rambaldi solution. After he confirms thta the liquid is authentic, you'll make the deal, then switch the vial with an identical one containing colored water and a radioactive isotope we can track via satellite.
SYDNEY: So when Sark brings the solution to Khasinau, he'll be bringing us along as well.
(Conference room.)
SLOANE: Our pursuit of Rambaldi is incomplete without that ampule so in order to recover it, you are authorized to use all necessary force. Is that understood?
DIXON: Yes.
SLOANE: Good. You leave tonight.
(Self-storage.)
VAUGHN: Now this guy Sark might've seen you in Moscow--
SYDNEY: He didn't. And even if he did, he won't recognize me this time.
VAUGHN: You saw what he did there and in Hong Kong, too.
SYDNEY: If you're suggesting we bring someone else in, no way. This is my op.
VAUGHN: Okay. We leave for Denpasar tonight.
(Denpasar. A plane lands and Dixon walks through the airport, carrying his luggage.)
(Will's desk at the newspaper. He stares at the flower pin which is sitting next to his cell phone.)
WILL: Hi. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but I've thought about it... I'm back on the story.
(Emily's hospital room. Sloane enters and watches her for a moment.)
EMILY: Hi...
(He walks to her and sits on the bed. She puts a hand up to his face.)
SLOANE: (whispers) How do you feel?
EMILY: Better... now that you're here.
(He kisses her palm lovingly.)
EMILY: Dr. Levin stopped by earlier. He said the biopsy is scheduled for next week.
(Sloane lets out a little sob. He breaks down.)
EMILY: Sweetheart... it's going to be okay. We have to believe that.
SLOANE: Yeah. You are so beautiful.
EMILY: I know, I must look wonderful.
(She laughs a little, crying.)
EMILY: Hold me?
(Crying, Sloane takes her in his arms.)
EMILY: I am so proud of you.
(He cries and buries his head on her shoulder.)
(Marketplace. Sydney is sitting down wearing full make-up and wearing a costume that covers her face except her eyes, is being carried into the meeting room. Vaughn sits on top of a building nearby, watching with binoculars.)
SYDNEY: What have you got?
VAUGHN: Sark's already in place.
SYDNEY: How many men?
VAUGHN: One inside, and one at the gate next to one of ours.
SYDNEY: He stuck to the plan.
VAUGHN: So far. If anything changes, we're ready.
(At the entrance, they come to a stop. Sydney puts her hand up. They nod. Vaughn watches as she goes inside.)
VAUGHN: After you both test the merchandise, and make the switch, you'll go your separate ways.
(Sark stands. They both speak Indonesian to each other and take their seats.)
SARK: I thought we had an agreement that neither side would have the advantage.
SYDNEY: That is the agreement.
SARK: Then you have not lived up to it. You can see me, I cannot see you.
SYDNEY: You know who I represent.
SARK: Well, according to the broker, you are affiliated with the Raslak jihad.
(Sydney nods.)
SARK: A noble cause, to be sure. And a group I respect for its dedication to the principles of ancient Kunta. When I heard of this, I volunteered for the assignment because as it turns out, I'm quite familiar with the Kunta use of the latajang. If you are who you claim to e, your skills with latajang should be unsurpassed.
VAUGHN: A latajang? Sydney, stick to the plan!
(Sark screws his latajang together.)
SYDNEY: The agreement was clear. We meet and trade.
SARK: And we will, if you are who you say you are.
VAUGHN: Sydney, is he asking you to fight him?!
SARK: I've already instructed my guard to stand down. If you want the diamonds, you'll do the same.
VAUGHN: Sydney, don't do this! Sydney!
(She stands and takes the latajang. They step aside.)
VAUGHN: Sydney!
(They bow. And they fight. He kicks her and tries to hit her with his latajang. She holds up hers and blocks him. He kicks her. She gasps in pain, her eyes tearing up. He holds the latajang close to her face, the blade about to cut her. She pushes him and kicks him. She protects herself by blocking him again. She flips him by sweeping his feet out from under him with her latajang and points the blade at his throat.)
SARK: Excellent.
SYDNEY: Let's test the merchandise.
SARK: Let's.
(He gets up and they sit down, open the cases. She looks at the diamonds. He looks at the vial and tests it. She takes the duplicate vial and hides it in her hand. She covers it with a green material and puts a diamond on top of it, looking at him. He tests the liquid. Vaughn scans the crowd.)
VAUGHN: Sydney, it's Dixon! He's here!
(Silenced gunshots can be heard as Dixon and his men approach the gate to the meeting room. Sark's guard and Sydney's guard fall to the ground.)
VAUGHN: Both guards are down! I repeat, both guards are down!
SYDNEY: I am satisfied. Do we have a deal?
VAUGHN: He's at the gate! Make the switch! I repeat, make the switch!
SYDNEY: Enough. Either we have a deal, or--
SARK: Yes. We have a deal.
(He puts the real vial on the table and extends his hand. Sydney is about to shake his hand and is about to make the switch when Dixon enters, his gun pointed at them.)
DIXON: Hands in the air!
(Sark takes the REAL vial and puts it in his jacket. Sydney didn't have time to make the switch. He raises his hands. Sydney does the same.)
DIXON: Where's the vial? I said, where's the vial?
(He looks at Sydney, a flicker of recognition comes across his face. Sydney looks away, hoping he didn't recognize her.)