Burn Notice, Season 1

Michael:
[V.O.] Covert intelligence involves a lot of waiting around. Any meeting, any appointment, you have to show up early, make sure you are not followed; make sure the area is secured; check out the other guy's advance team and see how well he is prepared. It's good trade craft but it's like hanging out in your dentist's reception area 24 hours a day. You read magazines, sip coffee, and every once in a while someone tries to kill you.

Michael:
[V.O.] In a fight, you have to be careful not to break the little bones in your hand on someone's face. Never happens in movies, but in real life a busted hand will get you killed. That's why I like bathrooms. Lots of hard surfaces.

Oleg:
You're real Michael Westen, yes?

Michael:
Yeah.

Oleg:
Back home, your story Russian Intelligence tells to scare. They say you're one name for many people. Special Operations team. They think one person cannot make so much problems.

Michael:
Nope. Just me.

Michael:
[V.O.] My mom would have made a great N.S.A. communications operative. Drop me in the middle of the Gobi Desert, hide me on top of the Himalayas, bury me in a goddamn cave on the moon, and somehow, some way, she'd find a way to call me and ask me for a favor. [screams into a pillow]

Madeline Westen:
You know you missed your father's funeral... by eight years.

Michael:
Well, last time I talked to him he said, "I'll see you in hell, boy," so I figured we had something on the books.

Michael:
[V.O.] 30 years of karate. Combat experience on five continents. A rating with every weapon that shoots a bullet or holds an edge. Still haven't found any defense to Mom crying into my shirt.

Michael:
[V.O.] Guns make you stupid; better to fight your wars with duct tape. Duct tape makes you smart.

[After Michael almost broke a drug dealer's hand.]

Michael:
[V.O.] There is a reason spies have a hard time making friends.

Michael:
[V.O.] What do you do when an operation goes bad? Not much to do, but smile and try to stay alive.

Michael:
Would you put some pants on?

Sam Axe:
What? I work better when I can breathe down there!

[Sam attempts to disable a car that Fiona supposedly wired to turn off via a cellphone. It explodes.]

Michael:
Fiona, you were supposed to stop the car, not blow it into the Everglades! What happened to shorting the ignition?

Fiona:
You said disable; it's not going anywhere.

Michael:
[V.O.] My mother's understanding of my career changes with what she wants from me. One day, she can name everyone on the National Security Council, the next day, she thinks I work for the post office.

Michael:
[V.O.] A hitman is like a plumber, a dentist or a mechanic. Everybody is always looking for a good one.

Michael:
[V.O.] Truth is, identity theft isn't hard. A number and an ID is all you need to drain a bank account and return some money to some very surprised retirees. But why stop there? As long as you're stealing someone's identity, why not use it to contact some known terrorist organizations on unsecured phone lines? Why not use it to threaten federal judges and insult the local drug cartel? Most fun I've had in Miami.

Sophie:
So we're supposed to stay in here, in the garage, and do nothing?

Michael:
Pretty much. It's not so bad as safe houses go. You got a TV at least. I once spent three days in a Riyadh storage facility with nothing but a flashlight and an Arabic celebrity magazine.

Michael:
[V.O.] When you go on the run, the first thing you do is lay down tracks in the opposite direction, but that only works if the bad guys find the trail and believe it's for real, which means selling it. You need to put on a little show, make them feel clever. When you make somebody work to get a piece of information they'll believe it that much more because it's hard to get.

Michael:
[To Sam] Well, I'll tell you what, if there's a situation that requires showing off your upper body and boozy flirting, you're my guy.

Michael:
[V.O.] International conferences attract spies for the same reason hotel bars attract hookers: you can do business and drink for free.

[Madeline is reminiscing about Michael and his father.]

Madeline Westen:
I remember what fun you two had always working on cars in the garage.

Michael:
Fun? I remember him making me fake a seizure at Mr. Goodwrench so he could steal spark plugs.

[After Fi scares off the hit squad with her Molotov cocktails]

Sam:
How many were there?

Fiona:
I don't know, four? They took off after cocktail hour.

Michael:
Fi, it looks like Fallujah down there.

Fiona:
I was half hoping that they'd stick around for a bit. Cara's got quite a liquor cabinet, good for a ten hour siege.

Michael:
[V.O.] A drug cartel is a business. If killing a witness to save a valued employee from jail time is the best way to keep making money, they'll do that. If it looks like that employee is testifying to the F.B.I., though, they're just as happy to leave the witness alone and take care of the problem another way.

(Michael notices a Czech assassin stalking him in a bar, and ambushes him with an elbow to the throat.)

Michael:
Vitad ton Miami, Kamerad.

[Subtitle:
WELCOME TO MIAMI... ASS****]

Michael:
You lost my car in a card game.

Nate Westen:
Well, I needed the money and you weren't helping me out. Besides, nothing ventured, nothing gained, bro.

Michael:
It was a rental car you ventured.

Michael:
[V.O.] Spies go to bars for the same reason people go to libraries: full of information if you know where to ask.

Sam:
The kid hangs out at a bar on South Beach. We could go look around.

Fiona:
Every third guy in a bar will tell you he's a modeling scout.

Sam:
Hey, I've used worse lines. And succeeded.

Fiona:
Why don't you boys wait outside, and I'll go get Brandon?

Michael:
Are you sure? Because we need...

Fiona:
Believe me, Michael, if there's one thing I know how to do, it's to get a guy to leave a bar.

Michael:
Hey, can I borrow your car?

Sam:
Where ya going?

Michael:
Uh, just to the store to get some yogurt.

Sam:
[chuckles] Come on, Mike. Fiona calls, whisper whisper, all of a sudden you gotta have yogurt? What's the big secret?

Michael:
No big secret, just looove yogurt.

Sam:
If I lose my pension, you're gonna be changing my diapers when I'm 95 and drooling.

Michael:
Sam, I would never let that happen. I'd smother you with a pillow first.

Sam:
What happens then? People start shooting. We lose, we're dead. We win, we've got three dead bodies, a traumatized girl, and spots on the F.B.I.'s Most Wanted List.

Fiona:
I've been on plenty of those lists. It's not so bad.

Carl Wilhelm:
"Pimped"? I'm not a pimp.

Michael:
[cheerfully] You say "tomato", I say "pimp."

[Jan, choking and gasping, fumbles for an epi-pen, but Michael appears and plucks it out of his hand.}

Michael:
Neat, what's this? What's this? Oh, neat! How do you say that word? "An-a-phyl-ac-tic"? Anaphylactic, what's that?

Jan:
(gasping) Can't breathe...

Michael:
You can't breathe? Oh! Is this when your throat closes up from allergies, like from pollen? 'Cause that's what I get. Or maybe it's the crushed peanuts I sprinkled on your hot dog. (Jan's eyes widen) Yeah, I talked to the chef at the hotel. Seems you're allergic to peanuts. So now that you've shot me and I hold your life in my hands, I think it's time we talked.

Nate:
No wonder I got my ass kicked.

Fiona:
Oh, you were lucky. The old guy had a Desert Eagle 9mm with combat grips.

Michael:
Ex-Mossad.

Nate:
What do you mean, like Israeli spies?

Fiona:
Sure. Every other retired spook is an arms dealer. Not a bad gig, if you can stand ex-spooks.

[Michael shoots her a look.]

Jake:
I can't believe this... I went to a goddamn basketball game with these people! The seats weren't even that good!

Michael:
Well, the next time you accept a bribe, I'd hold out for courtside.

Sam:
Hey, Mikey. When you read this guy's profile you're gonna kiss me.

Michael:
I am not gonna kiss you, Sam.

Sam:
Look, I'm not saying I'm gonna like it. I'm just saying you're gonna kiss me.

[Fiona is making an explosive concoction.]

Michael:
How's it coming, Fi?

Fiona:
Dangerous, unstable. Remind you of anyone?

Jake:
They're expecting my answer today. What do I say?

Michael:
Well, since they're probably planning on killing you if you say anything else, I'd suggest, "Yes."

[Nate hugs Michael and walks away.]

Madeline:
Now you see Michael, you're too hard on him. I mean, he can be so sweet. I just want us to be a family.

Michael:
I know, Mom, I know. [Michael pauses and then looks up.] He just stole my wallet. [runs out]

Michael Westen:
[V.O.] Getting information out of someone who doesn't want to give it up is all about upsetting the target's emotional balance, impairing their judgment. Fear is good for that; anger is not bad either.

Michael:
[V.O.] Anyone who has handled large amounts of cash can tell you it's one of the toughest things in the world to move. It's heavy and dense; dead weight. If it's on fire, of course, that complicates things further.

Michael:
[V.O.] As a rule, spies don't like dealing with cops. Covert ops are illegal by definition. If they were legal they wouldn't need to be covert.

Michael:
[V.O.] You can tie up a lot of resources by keeping a bugged phone line open. As long as it's open they're supposed to keep listening. Say a few cryptic things now and then and they'll be stuck in their little van trying to figure out what the hell you're doing.

Fiona:
Honestly, I don't know why they bother. They should just put a bullet in your head and be done with it.

Michael:
Apparently I'm more valuable alive than dead. But I'm sure they'll take it under advisement.

Michael:
[V.O.] Military firebombs are typically white phosphorus or chlorine trifluoride. These are remarkably effective, but they are also unstable, lethally toxic, and hard to find at the grocery store. The main ingredient in a homemade firebomb, on the other hand, is Styrofoam. A military demolition expert can put something together in a few hours. An IRA trained guerrilla can do it in twenty minutes... give or take.

Michael:
[V.O.] In any new job there's always friction with your co-workers. They are wondering if the boss likes the new guy better, if he's going to make them look bad... In some jobs that can get you a dark look in the break room; in other jobs that can get you a bullet in the back of the head.

Michael:
[V.O.] In intelligence work, surveillance is called coverage. It's like basketball; you can run zone defense or man-to-man. Man-to-man is risky; follow someone too long and they're going to get suspicious. Zone is usually the way to go. Stay put and let targets come to you. Less obvious, easier on the feet... and you can catch up on your celebrity gossip.

Fiona:
You have always had a problem with my work. I have always supported you.

Michael:
I'm helping people; you're running guns! Big difference!

[Michael and Fiona are in their car being chased by cops.]

Michael:
Do you have guns in the trunk, Fi?!

Fiona:
A few semi-automatics, yeah. I got a deal, Michael. This guy was selling Browning 9mms for 200 bucks a piece.

Michael:
You have unregistered weapons in a stolen car, Fi!

Michael:
[V.O.] Clandestine meetings are never fun to arrange. It's a big part of the job for a covert operative but it's never pleasant. It's not so much the fear of death that bothers you, it's driving to the meeting with a bag over your head... Sometimes they wash the bag, sometimes they don't.

Michael:
Next time Lawrence, go limp. It's really hard to drag a human shield.

Barry:
Name's Cristo. Like Madonna, the whole one name thing.

Sam:
Like Charo.

Barry:
Sting.

Sam:
Fergie.

Barry:
Pelé.

Sam:
Spider-Man.

Barry:
Liberace.

Sam:
...Crap, I can't think of any more.

Michael:
[V.O.] The thing about security is that the very things that protect you can be turned against you by someone who knows what he's doing. It's tough to compromise a well thought-out security system, but making someone think you can compromise it, well, that's much easier. Take surveillance cameras, for example: you can disable one by shooting a laser at it and overloading the light sensitive chip. Cheap, easy, and exactly the sort of thing a sophisticated criminal gang with lots of resources would do. Leave around some tell-tale signs of surveillance like cigarette butts, a forgotten camera lens cap and the more security there is, the more likely they are to think they've got a very serious problem. Even the security team itself can be an opportunity. The more employees you have, the more you have to worry about them. Deliver some vague threats and a few hundred bucks to a security guard. If he's honest he'll tell his boss, who then wonders who wasn't so honest. For the cost of a nice dinner you can get a whole security team canned.

Fiona:
I know a few Iranians who are coming into town.

Michael :
Oh, let's avoid people who use "Michael Westen" and "jihad" in the same sentence.

Michael:
[V.O.] Rescuing a hostage isn't about battering rams and guns. Charge through a door with a gun and chances are the person you're trying to save will be the first one lying on the floor dying of acute lead poisoning. So you come up with alternatives: ingredients from the local pharmacy, mixed with aluminum foil, powdered in a coffee grinder will make a serviceable flash grenade that would stun anyone for a good 20 feet. Thermite is another handy tool: with a surface temperature of a thousand degrees, it's used to weld together railroad ties. It would make pretty short works of most locks too.

[Michael and Nick are sitting in a car finalizing a plan.]

Michael:
So you understand? You pick up the package and walk away. Got it?

Nick:
Yeah.

Michael:
You don't look at us, you don't talk to us, you just walk out with the video. Fiona and I will be watching to see if the kidnappers have someone there and Sam will follow in the car if he sees anyone leave.

Nick:
Okay, so I walk to the car.

Michael:
No, Nick; focus. You just walk away.

Fiona:
You pick up the package and you leave like we're not even there.

Nick:
But wait, you will be there, right?

Michael:
Yes, we will be there. Okay, go ahead. [Nick tries to get out but the door is locked.] Unlock it first.

Michael:
[V.O.] The thing about doubling anyone is that the more they do for you, the deeper they get. The deeper they get, the more you can make them do. Great if you're running them, but hard on the source. The suicide rate is... above average.

[Fiona is threatening Lucio with a taser.]

Michael:
[V.O.] The art of turning someone into a double agent is delicate. The target has to be put into a fragile psychological state.

Lucio:
Get this crazy bitch away from me!

Michael:
[V.O.] Fortunately, fragile psychological states are a specialty of Fiona's.

Sam:
He heard that she had a boyfriend who could help.

Michael :
He heard that she had a boyfriend that could help.

Sam:
I was vague. I said I was a freelance superhero Robin Hood kinda guy.

Michael:
That's vague.

Michael:
[V.O.] Facts are the hallmark of a good false identity. It is harder to create history than it is to alter it. Plus, the more truth to your lie, the easier it is to remember.

Fiona:
Evelyn comes along and she's attractive, sweet, needy. Don't deny it.

Michael:
Fine.

Fiona:
Isn't it interesting she turned out to be who she turned out to be. What shall we make of that?

Michael:
You made your point, Fi.

Fiona:
Did I?

Michael:
Yep, you did.

Michael:
[V.O.] A basic rule of covert ops is let someone else do your dirty work. Let someone else find the guy you want to kill. It's a great technique... as long as you're not the someone else.

Michael:
[V.O.] Just because there are no windows or doors doesn't mean there are no exits. The thing to look for is an air conditioner unit, that's where the wall is weakest. Also, people watch doors; they don't watch air conditioners.

Sam:
Here ya go, Doug: my lucky vest.

Michael:
It'll look great over my shirt.

Doug:
Thanks.

Sam:
It's a little worn, but it'll do the trick.

Doug:
Are these bullet holes?

Sam:
Yeah, I broke it in for ya.

[Sam and Fiona are doing recon at a gay bar.]

Sam:
How do you want to handle this?

Fiona:
Well, I think the balls are in your court.

Michael:
[V.O.] The truly paranoid don't go to meetings themselves. They use a cut out, someone unrelated to them hired to show a pre-arranged sign and deliver a message. The sign is something innocuous but hard to miss. My favorite is a tourist guide for Madison, Wisconsin. No one will look at it twice, but unless I'm in the Midwest, I know they are waiting for Michael Westen.

Nate:
Hey bro, you look tired.

Michael:
Hey Nate, you look clean. You shaved the ferret off your face.

Fiona:
Ah, the mating dance of the spy. It's a wonder spies ever get close enough to kill each other, isn't it?

[Sam walks into Michael's house with a bucket of fried chicken and Michael pulls his gun.]

Michael:
That'll kill you, you know?

Sam:
[referring to the gun] Yeah, no kiddin'.

Michael:
No. The bucket of trans fat you've got there.

[Michael and Fiona are standing over a large cache of weapons, preparing for an operation.]

Michael:
If we need more than this, we're doing something very wrong.

Fiona:
Or something very right.

Michael:
[V.O.] When you work in intelligence, you get used to the idea that some information is worth risking everything for. You sign up for the lifestyle, or the chance to serve your country, or the millions of frequent-flier miles. But finally, it all comes down to putting your ass on the line to learn something.

Michael:
[V.O.] There are some fights you just can't win. A force can be so overwhelming that no tactical approach in a fight is going to lead to a victory worth having. When you can't win in a fight, sometimes you have to settle for making sure that if you lose, everyone loses. It works for nuclear weapons; it works for me.

Michael:
[V.O.] For any operative, stashing weapons is second nature after a while. Spies hide guns like squirrels hide acorns. You never know when you'll need some firepower, or where you'll be when you need it.

Carmello:
Who are you?

Michael:
I'm Michael Westen. I used to be a spy.

Sam:
[re: Fiona] You sure this is a good idea, you hooking up with her again?

Michael:
I'm not hooking up with her, okay? I'm not. I need her for tactical support.

Sam:
[laughs] Is that what they're calling it these days? "Tactical support"?

Michael:
[V.O.] Southern Nigeria isn't my favorite place in the world to be; it's unstable, it's corrupt, and the people there eat a lot of terrible-smelling preserved fish. There is one good thing about Nigeria, though: it's the gun-running capital of the world, which makes it a bad place to drive a passenger sedan through a crowded market.

Michael:
Uh, listen, Fi, now's not the best time...

Sam:
[entering] Oh, Jesus, Mike, you didn't tell me she was gonna be here.

Fiona:
[rushing at Sam] You cost me a lot of money, you son of a bitch! I've been wanting to talk to you for a long time!

[Michael blocks her path.]

Sam:
I cost you? Okay, for starters, what you're talking about never officially happened! Second, you deserved a lot worse than what you got, lady!

Michael:
Sam...

[Turning back towards Fiona, he freezes when he sees her with her arm cocked, preparing to hurl a bottle at Sam's head.]

Michael:
[V.O.] There's a reason spies don't have a lot of parties. Everybody's got a history with everybody else.

Sam:
Mike, I saved your ass at the warehouse, the least you could do is have some decent beer in the fridge.

Michael:
Next time you plan on saving my ass, tell me before I go to the store.

Lucio:
Now I have to check in with Reyes. I'm already late, he's going to know that something is wrong.

Michael:
Fine, call him. You broke your foot walking down the stairs at the mall, you forgot to call.

Lucio:
(confused) Broke my foot? I didn't break my foot.

[Fiona stomps on Lucio's instep, cracking bone. Lucio screams.]

Michael:
There you go.

Michael:
And if you don't do what I want, then I will rain hell down upon you until one of us is dead, and I am really, really good at raining down hell. I want an answer tomorrow.

[Michael gets up and leaves]

Carmello:
Who are you?

Michael:
I'm Michael Westen. I used to be a spy.