TEXT: P[A]RIS Sydney, in an alias of an (ugly) prosthetic nose and a curly red wig, enters a restaurant. Host: Bonsoir, Madame Syd: Marie Gerard Host: La table est prête Sydney follows the host, and walks pass Vaughn, sitting at the bar. Sydney is seated. Syd: Un martini. Sec. Quatre olives. Vaughn: She's in position. No sign of Connelly. Cut to Dixon in van. Dixon: He'll reveal himself. Host (placing Martini on table): Madame. Syd: Merci. Syd takes the four olives out of the glass and puts them on the table. Vaughn: She just made the announcement. A man walks up to the table Connelly: Il est trop tard pour une femme d'être ici toute seule. Syd: Moins dangereux qu'au Bangladesh. Connelly nods and sits down. Connelly: I thought you might not come. Syd: You underestimate me already. Connelly: Well, I almost didn't come Syd: Why is that? Crisis of conscience? Connelly: I thought I might find a buyer willing to pay more. Syd: I am not here for small talk, Monsieur Connelly. Are you selling, or no? Connelly: I presume... you brought the down payment. Sydney smiles slightly. A man enters the dining room. Vaughn notices him, watches him sit down. Vaughn: We may have a possible third party. Sending you a visual Outrigger. Vaughn snaps a pic of the man with a camera phone. Dixon: Got it, searching for a match. Dixon's computer runs a facial recognition scan. Cut back to Syd and Connelly Connelly: So, what are your plans for your...new purchase. Syd: Monsieur Connelly, where..is..the chip? Connelly pulls of the bottom of a wine bottle, revealing the chip. Connelly: This is my way out. Cut to Vaughn Vaughn: Anything, Outrigger
SUMMARY:
Jack kills an old friend who is poised to receive a biometrically targeted weapon. Sydney confronts the weapon (miniature helicopter with automatic weapons fire and Artificial Intelligence) and saves an innocent civilian. Vaughn learns that his father was possibly a traitor.