Vacendak: — I knew you'd make a mistake. McCandless can't drive. You must coach him better than that.
Julie Redlund: — Is that you?
Furlong: — Nibble my ear... for luck.
Julie Redlund: — How'd you get the I. D. number right?
Vacendak: — He didn't. I lied. He wasn't even close.
Julie Redlund: — Are we really going to do this?
Furlong: — Stranger things have happened.
— Hey, Furlong. It's Vacendak. I hate to say this... but you're speeding. Where we going? I hate the dark!
— Piss off!
Michelette: — McCandless is no more.
Furlong: — Wait... I'm McCandless. Nice try, Mark, but I made it. I completed the transfer.
Michelette: — Don't you give me that shit.
Furlong: — Shoot him, Vacendak. He tried to assassinate me.
Michelette: — You take orders from a Freejack?
Vacendak: — Who is he?
engineer: — There were 22.762 seconds of transfer before it blew off-line.
Vacendak: — Is he McCandless?
Furlong: — Of course I am.
engineer: — We've completed transfers in that time... and we've had them take longer. I don't know.
Vacendak: — Mr. McCandless will have to identify himself. We can't get a voice-print lock. A ret scan won't work.
Michelette: — He is lying! Check his personal I. D. number! Only McCandless would know that!
Vacendak: — Well?
Michelette: — What more do you want? Shoot him, Vacendak!
Furlong: — Six.
Vacendak: — Correct. Continue.
Furlong: — Nine.
Vacendak: — Proceed.
Furlong: — Two. Seven. Five, seven. Five, four, six, nine, seven!
Michelette: — Goddamn you, McCandless!
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