F-18 Pilot: Everything's shit duty today.
E-4 Pilot: Win? I thought we were supposed to stop this thing.
Fargo: Hell, most Soviet bombers are so old they still use propellers. The Minnesota Air National Guard could probably knock them down.
Harpoon: Well, do you want to get on the phone and order them into the air, Colonel, because every transistor in Minnesota is burned OUT.
Cassidy: Well congratulations. You just received the first battlefield commission of this war, whatever the hell this thing is.
Hooker: I'll take the job, Major. You can keep the bars.
Cassidy: You know it wouldn't do either of us any good if they knew I was poking the right hand man.
Moreau: Oh is that what you were doing?
Cassidy: Uh, what I mean is we function professionally first. Look, it violates PRP.
Moreau: You think nobody knows about us?
Cassidy: Yeah well, whatever. Look, it's best that we'll keep an official distance, that's all.
Moreau: The problem is your official distance starts the minute we get out of bed, I don't need that.
Moreau: Cassidy, we're going to stall, give me the fucking airplane.
