- Mike Fallon: How the hell do I make this look like an accident?
- Mike Fallon: Meet Jane the Ripper. Now, her tale is as old as time. She was an American Army brat raised in Japan, hated her stepdad, loathed authority, and ran away from home at 16. She spent the next decade under the tutelage of a disgraced ronin. But that's a story for another time. Jane lures in her marks in the most old-fashioned of ways. She gets them all hot under the collar, and when they least expect it, she unleashes the fury like a woman scorned. She's an expert swordswoman and a right nasty bitch. The Honey Trap Killing Machine. There's a rumor going round she keeps her male victims' nether regions in a trophy case at home. If that's true... then that is a shitload of cocks in a cabinet. All the lads would love to shag her, but we're all too scared we'd never live to tell the tale.
- Mike Fallon: There was a guy on TV the other night. Had a theory that nearly a quarter of all so-called fatal accidents were actually murders. That's ridiculous. It's only about 10 percent.
- Mike Fallon: Meet Poison Pete. He's a filthy, little runt who takes keeping himself to himself to new heights. Yeah, you guessed it, he poisons people. Nobody really likes Pete because he's got a vocabulary of about 12 words. And, well, look at him. Can't say I'm a fan of his style. It's simple, effective, yeah, but fucking spineless. Apparently, even his parents hated him, so much so that his only bath-time toy was a toaster. But for our clients, it's the effective part they're after.
- Jane The Ripper: It's time to butter the toast, Michael. And if you're lucky, I'll let you lick the knife.
- Big Ray: Look at the state of you two! You can take down legions of iraqi soldiers and fucking taliban ragheads. But one bloke from the wrong side of the river gives you a right royal dusting. What kind of Special Forces are you?
- Mick: Well. You trained him, Ray.
- Big Ray: True.
- Leonard Kent: You're gonna kill me whether I talk or not, aren't you?
- Mike Fallon: After the week I've had, I'm not even sure about that anymore. Call it a crisis of conscience if you like. Why don't you start fucking talking, and I'll keep you posted on how the self-reflection thing plays out?
- Mike Fallon: He's late. That's a bit disrespectful, if you ask me. A man should never be late... for his own death. But better late than never, I suppose.
- Mick: Mike, it was a standard kill brief, this was just business. And, besides, you were already done with the bitch... you were already done with the young lady.
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