Frank: Jensen. I'd appreciate it if you instructed your street informants to use more conventional means of contacting you.
Adam: What are you talking about, Pritchard?
Frank: I mean, I found a message stapled to your door. "Cholo, Alley off Bagley Avenue. Ezekiel." How cryptic.
Adam: That's near Sarif HQ. I'll look into it. Oh, and it's 'cholo.'
Zeke: I see you got my message, cabron.
Adam: Sanders. You're taking a risk meeting this close to Sarif Headquarters.
Zeke: Same risk as you, considering you're the one who let me go. But I don't plan to stick around that long.
Adam: Yeah? So what's this about?
Zeke: I did some house cleaning after the plant. And I turned up some intel on that gearhead motherfucker who used me and my brother. Chink left a pocket secretary behind. Don't say who he was working for, but it's got access codes, names, shit like that.
Adam: Why you giving it to me?
Zeke: Maybe I don't like feeling like I owe you. Or maybe I figured I'd send a snake to kill a snake. Take it or leave it, pendejo. Either way, my debt is paid.