[Aww, the kid's got a personality somewhere in there. Atlas has turned away to fiddle with his radio; he is a patient man by necessity, not choice, and loitering around here waiting for his people to find a years-old corpse and bring it to him is something that makes him fidget. Ugh.

So when he looks back at Jack and sees the camera pointed at him, he pauses, surprised.]

My face is pasted over half of Rapture already, and you want a private show. [Ridiculous...] Sure, kid, fire away. But I'm not givin' out that many freebies, so make it count.