
[last lines]
The Phone's Man: [on phone] I'm looking for a transporter.
Frank Martin: I'm listening.

Hoffman: And you and Frank Martin are friends, right?
Tarconi: A friend? I wouldn't say exactly a friend... I know him, we have a relationship...
Hoffman: A long relationship?
Tarconi: Mm... not so long...
Hoffman: But they found you cooking in his house!
Tarconi: I'm French!
Hoffman: So?
Tarconi: We don't need to know someone for longtime, you know, to cook for them... It's our way of breaking the ice.


Gianni Chellini: But nice try, I'm impressed. Took more than a driver to figure this out.
Frank Martin: I haven't figured it all out yet.
Gianni Chellini: Perhaps I can help you! What part are you a little... how you say, "thick" on?
Frank Martin: You. Why?
Gianni Chellini: Oh, well,
that's the easy part. It's a business deal, pure and simple. I'm for hire to he highest bidder. And in this case, the highest bidders were the Colombian cocaine cartels that wanted these pesky lawmen off their backs.

Gianni Chellini: Not quite what you expected when you showed up for work this morning, is it, Frank?
Frank Martin: [rolls his eyes] Is that what passes for wit in this circle?
Gianni Chellini: [laughs] In this circle, my friend, "wit" is not a requirement of the job. Brutality, yes. An ability to inflict pain, absolutely. A certain
psychotic moral ignorance, blind obedience, all required. But not wit.

Car Jacking Girl: [knocks on Frank's car door] I'm sorry, can you help me? My tire.
Frank Martin: Sorry, I have an appointment, I don't like to be late.
Car Jacking Girl: Well, would you rather be late or *dead*?
[points a gun at Frank]
Frank Martin: You don't want to do this.
Car Jacking
Girl: Step out of the car!
[Frank steps out, the car jackers run over]
Car Jacker: Whoo! Let's go, girls! Yeah!
Frank Martin: Take it easy, the car's brand new.
Car Jacker: [enters car] No problem, buddy, I got this. Baby, let's ride. Time to go!
Frank Martin: Your parents know the
company you keep?
Car Jacking Girl: Shut up!
Car Jacker: [unable to start the engine] This shit ain't working, man!
Frank Martin: It's coded.
Car Jacker: What's the code?
Frank Martin: Can't tell you that.
Car Jacker: Then we'll have to beat it out of you.
Get out of the car!

Dimitri: [grabs Tipov's gun and points it at Sonovitch] Open fridge.
Dr. Sonovitch: I'm telling you...
Dimitri: [pistol-whips him] Open fridge!
Dr. Sonovitch: Ow!
Dimitri: [in Russian] Sorry.
[then in English]
Dimitri: Open fridge... open the fridge!
[Sonovitch does, revealing two vials of the antidote]
Dimitri: Yes! Insurance policy. How many do you have?
Dr. Sonovitch: Two doses. Enough for Tipov and myself.
[Dimitri shoots Tipov]
Dimitri: Tipov's policy cancelled. There is one for me.