- Gen. Hunt Stockwell: [talking on a secured line] Hello Brown Fox. This is Black Wolf. I hear there's a hunter in the woods
- Ivan Trigorin: [on a car phone] I'm afraid he's lost his way. The old hand shake still serves as well, my friend. Or should I call you General?
- Gen. Hunt Stockwell: Titles are the shields weak men hide behind. Isn't that what we used to say?
- Ivan Trigorin: We used to say a lot of things back then. Both of us possesed a certain wisdom in our youth.
- Gen. Hunt Stockwell: You're aware you're breaking every rule of the Geneva convention?
- Ivan Trigorin: Hm. When did we ever worry about the Swiss?
- Murdock: It's so nice to be back in L.A. The freeways, the shallow people, the superficial relationships, how could we have lived anywhere else?
- Frankie: And don't forget the smog.
- Murdock: Oh, the smog... and at sunset, when the light hits the inversion layer just right, it turns a beautiful shade of orange.
- Hannibal: Brings a tear to the eye.
- Carla: This is the last time I will be able to communicate. You must find Stockwell within the next 36 hours.
- Hannibal: Or what?
- Carla: Everything folds up and disappears. This process has already begun. Unless the General's voice hits the blue phone before the deadline, everything, every bit of this operation will vanish. You would be on your own.
- Frankie: Well, what about our pardon?
- Carla: It disappears with the General.
- Gen. Hunt Stockwell: [dialing a number on a mobile phone with his gun] This is General Stockwell calling the Ice House for voiceprint verification. Alert canceled. Repeat, alert canceled. Condition Green. We're coming home.