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Michael Mason: [sullenly] You don't fucking know me.
Sean Briar: Age 14 through 16, you were caught shoplifting for pornography and Britney Spears CDs. You stole your stepdad's sports car and crashed it into the Caesar's Palace fountain. Categorised as impulsive, lacking of insight, and very likely to re-offend.
Michael Mason: [pause; he retaliates smartly] Okay. How about, uh, "lacking in interpersonal empathy?" "Reckless, insubordinate, and irresponsible."
Michael Mason: [he pulls out a paper he lifted from Briar, detailing the CIA's unflattering review of the latter] "Quick to resort to violence..."
Sean Briar: [snatches the paper back] Motherfucker, you ever go through my pockets again, I will shoot you in the face.
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Michael Mason: [while looking for Zoe to prove Michael's innocence, Briar and Michael have tracked a man to a bar] What's the play? You gonna go stick a gun in his mouth, too?
Sean Briar: No, if they see me, they'll move her. They didn't get a good look at you.
Michael Mason: No way.
Sean Briar: Come on. You wanna clear your name? That guy in there knows where Zoe is. Go in there, get me a lead.
Michael Mason: No *fucking* way.
Sean Briar: Listen, Michael, this is an opportunity. The agency, they don't just recruit Ivy League types. They need people like you, street smart. You know, we're not too different, you and I. I was just a street kid adopted from Belize. No value system, no parents, no English. Nobody gave a fuck about me.
Michael Mason: [beat] I want a deal. We get the girl, she confirms my story, I'm free and clear.
Sean Briar: Deal.
Michael Mason: [deadpan] Pinky promise?
Sean Briar: Get the fuck out of here.
Alex Fondja
Extended Reading
