“He looked from the phone to the unconscious figure of the Salesman. "What did you do to him?" he asked."He got the wrong number," Alex said.”

“Your name?"The movements of the man's mouth didn't quite match what he was saying, so seeing him speak was a bit like watching a badly dubbed film."Alex Gardiner," Alex said. "Your real name?""I just told you.""You lied. Your real name is Alex Rider.""Why ask if you think you know?”

“I have a couple of questions," he said."Do, please, go ahead.""My first one is for Yassen Gregorovich." He turned to the Russian. "Why are you working for this lunatic?""I sometimes think that I was richer when I was eight years old than most people will be in their lifetime!""Do we have to listen to this?" Alex asked.”

“Alan Blunt got in touch with me and asked me to put you up here for the rest of the week, to pretend that you're my son. I have to say, you don't look anything like me.""I don't look anything like myself either," Alex said.”

“Alex decided he’d had enough. He put down his knife. “All right,” he said. “You’ve made it pretty clear that you don’t want to work with me. Well, that’s fine. Because I don’t want to work with you either. And for what it’s worth, nobody would ever believe you were my mom because no mom would ever behave like you.” “Alex…,” Carver began. “Forget it! I’m going back to London. And if you’re Mr. Byrne asks why, you can tell him I didn’t like the jelly, so I went home to get some jam.”

“The CIA agent looked more dead than alive. Alex wondered if he had been hit, but there was no sign of any blood. Perhaps he was in shock.”

“Let me tell you, Alex. He's a crook. He's based here in Miami. He's a nasty piece of work.""He's mexican" Troy added.”