Frank: Jensen, Sarif had me hack the Convention Center's security logs for you. Sandoval signed out. He isn't there.
Adam: Taggart will know where he went.
Frank: You really think he'll tell you in the middle of a riot, in front of all the media?
Adam: He will if I ask real nice.
Frank: Well, if that doesn't work, he also has a dressing room backstage. Seems to me a man like Taggart must keep close track of his employees. Speaking of which, I also back-traced that breach in our own firewall. The one Sarif opened but forgot to tell us about?
Adam: The one he was using right before he hired me, right.
Frank: Looks like our boss was being chatty with a private detective named Brent Radford. he lives on Earl's Court in case you want to get chatty with him, too.
Woman 1: I'm a little shaken up but I'm just glad we got off the streets.
Woman 2: Training exercises for augmented soldiers? How did they think this was going to over with the public?
Woman 3: I haven't seen the footage so I'm not going to make any assumptions.
Man 1: Open your eyes, my friends! We've been blind for too long. And now we stand at the edge of an abyss.
Brent: Jensen? Christ.
Adam: Brent Radford?
Brent: In the flesh, for now.
Adam: How do you know my name? What happened here?
Brent: Answers for favors. There's a... a trauma kit I keep somewhere around here. Find it.
Adam: You need a doctor. I'll get help.
Brent: No! No time. The... they could be back any minute. Find the kit quickly if you want answers.
Adam: I'll be back.
Brent: Did you find the kit? Sweet Jesus. The pain... morphine. I ain't talking without something to kill the pain, asshole.
Adam: This should help with the pain. Now tell me what's going on.
Brent: Those sons of bitches. I should have seen it coming. I knew from the moment Sarif got spooked that... that this case would come back bite me in the ass.
Adam: Sarif. So you're the investigator he hired to run a background check on me.
Brent: Detective. Or I was until... Christ. Fuck it. It hurts enough just trying to breathe. Point is the goons that did this to me, professionals. I think your boss pissed off the wrong people, trying to dig up your dirt.
Adam: What people? What did you find?
Brent: No time to go into details. My storage unit, the sons of bitches, they're headed there now. Sarif had me uncover a ton of shit on you, stuff even you don't... you don't know. Your parents, your real parents. The tests. The fire. What are you, Jensen? Some kind of freak.
Adam: Focus, Radford
Brent: I put it all... I mothballed the case in storage. it's in an alley behind the bank. Your files are there. But Michele knows.. Michelle knows more. You need to stop... you need to stop them. Fuck you, robot! This... this is all your fault. Give me... give me another shot. Morphine. Or go fuck yourself.
Adam: Focus, Radford.
Brent: Ahh. That hit the spot. I think I could get used to this stuff. hey, I'm feeling a little more talkative already, robot.
Adam: Why did Sarif stop the investigation? You said he was spooked. What spooked him?
Brent: You wouldn't believe me even if I told you. Oh hell, even I don't. I still don't believe it. You believe in ghost, Jensen?