Transcript

Woman 1: Before you ask -- no, your mirror has not beer replaces, Mr. Jensen. If you ask me, these riots are David Sarif's fault.

Woman 2: How can you say that?

Woman 1: He has this air of arrogance about him, this sense of superiority. People don't like arrogance.

Woman 2: David Sarif has almost single-handedly kept this city afloat for the past 15 years. A lot of people have jobs because of him.

Frank: Where are you, Jensen? I haven't got all night.

Adam: Hello, Pritchard. I'm almost in my apartment now.

Frank: Well, when you do get in there, connect the neural hub to your computer. I've created a secure tunnel, and I'll take over remotely.

Adam: You can access my personal computer?

Frank: Who do you think configured your security protocols?

Man: Mr. Jensen, I fixed up your apartment real nice...

Woman 3: I heard they want to give David Sarif the key to the city, something about the city's rebirth.

Computer: Welcome home, Mr. Jensen.

Adam: Pritchard, the hub's connected.

Frank: I know. Now be quiet and let me concentrate.

Adam: I need his name, Pritchard, not his entire genetic history.

Frank: That's not his DNA. It's the data he was trying to steal from us before he... My God, Jensen. Your suicide hacker didn't kill himself.

Adam: You obviously didn't see his brains splattered all over the floor.

Frank: No, no, you don't understand! The wet drive modification in this chip, it allows someone to hack through you. It turns you, quite literally, into a human proxy!

Adam: So he wasn't working alone. Someone offsite was doing the actual hacking.

Frank: Exactly. And whoever it was tried to hide his location using multiple satellites. But I may have just traced him to here: An abandoned factory complex in Highland Park.

Adam: Get me the address, Pritchard, because if we're lucky, whoever pulled our terrorist's strings might still be there.

David: Adam, it's David.

Adam: Let me guess, you're sending me to Highland Park.

David: Not just yet. Frank's figured out why the network's been compromised. There's a persistent transmission coming from Derelict Row.

Adam: Street gang territory?

David: Well, our dead friend was posing as an anti-aug. Who better to hide with than the D-Row Ballers?

Adam: Right. I'm on my way.

Computer: Re-establishing security system. See you soon, Mr. Jensen.