It reeks, you know.
My confusion?
Your bullshit. We only have a few more minutes alone.
You still have your twisted theories about me, don't you?
Not theories anymore.
Look, I'm sorry I called. I guess I thought we could be friends.
Friends?! Oh, yeah. Do I want to be friends with a demented ex-soldier that hates America? Who decided strapping on a bomb was the answer to what ailed him? Despite his daughter, his son, people who loved him in real life, not in the mind-fuck world of Abu Nazir, who in the end, didn't have the stones to go through with it, but had no problem sending me to the nuthouse. Yeah. No, thanks. I don't think I need a friend like that.
Okay. Not friends.
So what are you going to do now? Are you going to kill me? You going to blame it on rough sex maybe? I mean, how long can you get away with something like that?
I've had a pretty good run so far.
That's true.
I seem to be good at this, if nothing else.
You're special.
I liked you, Carrie.
I loved you.
[Team breaks in and wrestles Brody to the floor, cuffing him]
If only the circumstances had been wildly different. You're a disgrace to your nation, Sergeant Nicholas Brody. You're a traitor and a terrorist, and now it's time you pay for that.
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