Character: Hercules Hansen

We're is all that separates this scum from the 80 million inhabitants of Hong Kong. And we have a choice: either sit and not rock the boat, or take signal flares and do something really stupid.

- I'm to blame that he is. Clever guy, but you never know with him - should hug him or kick weigh.
With all due respect, sir, the second option is better.

Riley, come sit with us.
- No, not worth it. I'll go get myself...
- Come on! At our table plenty of space!
Thank you... been a while since I bread't seen it.
Hong Kong, an open city. No coupons. There are potatoes, peas, baked beans, meat loaf. Pass the potatoes... This is my son, Charlie. He is now my wingman.
Rather, you co-pilot. Isn't it, dad?
- Well...
- So you're the guy? Beginner who will cover for me on your rust bucket?
- Kind of.
And when was the last time you were in the saddle, ray?
- Five years ago.
- What have you been doing these five years? Something very important, perhaps?
- Worked on the construction site.
- Oh, well, wow! How cool! Very "useful" skill. If we get in trouble, we're going to build something? Yes, Ray?
- I Riley.
Just as you say. Look, you Pentecote found, and the father you are to my liking. But the "Ranger" was closed because of people like you. For me, you're the ballast. You slow down - will fold like a sack of Kaiju shit. Until next time, Riley.