Jackson Rippner: Pretty clear thinking given the circumstances. Wait, let me guess, some stress management courses? They're really paying off. When we get out of this, I may have to steal you.
Lisa Reisert: I need you to do something for me.
Cynthia: Are you sure you're OK?
Lisa Reisert: Cynthia, please don't ask me again if I'm OK.
[line goes dead]
Lisa Reisert: Something's come up. We need to change Keefe's room. Can you pull up the file?
[plane shakes]
Lisa
Reisert: Were going to move him to room 4080, and then I need you to...
Jackson Rippner: [grabs phone] Hello? Cynthia?
Jackson Rippner: [Jackson needs Lisa to call her hotel in Miami so a prominent Homeland security figure can be moved to a different room and assassinated] It's time.
Jackson Rippner: Thanks for the quickie.
[to Lisa after he hits her head in the bathroom]
Jackson Rippner: Before you do that you may want to look at this.
[Jackson puts an initialed wallet on the airline tray]
Jackson Rippner: J.R. Joe Reisert. Your father.
Lisa Reisert: Where did you get that?
Jackson Rippner: An associate of mine grabbed it off your dad's desk... I believe it was next to
your graduation picture. J.R. his wallet, his initials. But gee, mine too. And for some reason, stewardess, this strange and rather inebriated girl whom I've never met before tonight suddenly went crazy when I took it out of my pocket.
Jackson Rippner: [to Lisa] You tell the flight attendant and your dad dies.
[Lisa starts to cry as the Senior Flight Attendant arrives]
Senior Flight Attendant: What can I do for you?
Jackson Rippner: Leese, did you need another pillow or anything?
Lisa Reisert: [crying] No, I don't need anything.
Jackson Rippner: She's just had a really rough day. A death in the family.
Jackson Rippner: [Jackson has slammed Lisa into the bathroom wall and has begun choking her] You know what I think? I think you're not such an honest person. Because I've followed you for eight weeks now and I never once saw you order anything but a fucking seabreeze!
Lisa Reisert: [Still being choked by Jackson] I can't breathe... I can't breathe
[he lets her go]
Cynthia: [Front Desk phone rings] Got it. Lux Atlantic Resort. This is Cynth...
Lisa Reisert: Cynthia, put me through to Keefe's room!
Cynthia: Lisa, what's going on?
Lisa Reisert: Cynthia, you have got to get Keefe out of that room.
Cynthia: You already changed him.
Lisa
Reisert: No, Cynthia. It's got nothing to... Look, I think something gonna happen. You... Listen, pull the fire alarm!
Cynthia: [Confused] What the hell are...?
Lisa Reisert: [yells] Evacuate the hotel! Get everyone out! You have got to go up there now and physically tell them! Tell them that Keefe is a target!
Lisa
Reisert: [Screams] Cynthia, Keefe is a TARGET! SOMEBODY'S GONNA KILL HIM!
Cynthia: [Frightened] Oh, Shit! Shit, shit!
Jackson Rippner: [referring to how the irate passenger is complaining about an airline worker] She's exhausted, she's worked for 18 hours, and she suspects that we all hate her just as much as you do. So why you don't just give her a break? Let her go back to her job which I'm guessing is a lot more thankless than yours.
[He stares at the passenger]
Irate
Passenger: This airline *SUCKS*!
Lisa Reisert: [Talking to Jackson at airport bar] No, my grandmother died.
Jackson Rippner: [In an I'm sorry tone] Oh.
Lisa Reisert: It's ok. She was ninety-one.
Jackson Rippner: Ninety-one?
Lisa Reisert: Yea.
Jackson Rippner: That's respectable. What was her
secret?
Lisa Reisert: Grapenuts. And a guy named Duke.
Jackson Rippner: Excuse me?
Lisa Reisert: Yea, uh, she said the Grapenuts kept her arteries clean and... Duke helped with the rest.
[first lines]
Marianne Taylor: Taylor. Bob and Marianne Taylor.
Cynthia: Just bear with me one second.
Marianne Taylor: There are other hotels in Miami.
Cynthia: I'm sorry.
Marianne Taylor: What is the problem? We made these reservations over six months ago.
Cynthia: I know, ma'am, I'm just not seeing it.
Marianne Taylor: Well, where's Lisa? Lisa always takes care of us.
Cynthia: I know, ma'am. She's out of town. Her grandmother passed away.
Bob Taylor: Cynthia, is it?
Cynthia: Yes, sir?
Bob Taylor: Would you get in
more trouble if you bothered her or if I called corporate?