P. Rearson: 386 dead, and not a fucking clue? how do we find the bitch, that's what i want to know.
Alana: sir, she's a goddess. We don't have the-
P. Rearson: Do we, or do we not, have a goddamn dragon god on lockdomn, Wyndham?
alana: Yes, and she was looking for him. It's probably best to cut the losses and terminate the subject-
Alana:" Advise that keeping him alive is not worth the risk. if she goes berserk again-
P. Rearson: Wyndham. He stays alive. Merrick Pryce has him in line. He's not a threat.
Alana: No sir, but she is.
P. Rearson: Then find her, take her, neatrilze her, and throw her in containment.
P. Rearson: And it's a mess. A media circus out there, Wyndham. Get me Masterson.
Alana: Sir, Aaron... is not here.
P. Rearson: I knew that. Get me someone who can contain this mess. We can't be talking terrorist attacks of this magnitude on American soil. It will ruin the plans I have, and we're very, very close.
Alana: i'm trying, sir, but i can't-
P. Rearson: Whyndham if I hear "can't" from you again you will be suspended and sent for conditioning with Trevayne. Aaron could get this tone, he'd have had it contained already. all I'm asking for is competence. That's not to high of a goal, is it, Wyndham? Competence.
P. Rearson: Very good. While you're at it, find out what the happened in Marquette. It wasn't part of the attacks, so why is there an empty facility in Michigan.
P. Rearson: The next words out of your mouth are going to be "yes, i will look into it. Than kyou for your time and have a pleasant day, Senator."
Alana: Have a pleasant day, Senator.