kept a number
of intelligence people
on the payroll to supply their colleagues
with counterintelligence.
Let's go.
The second rule of gunrunning is:
Always ensure you have a
foolproof way to get paid.
Preferably in advance...
ideally to an off-shore account.
That's why I chose my customers
so carefully.
Say what you like about warlords
and dictators...
they tend to have a highly
developed sense of order.
They always pay their bills on time.
What is this?
Six kilos of pure.
I can't hand this to my fucking bank
teller at Chase Manhattan.
Listen, asshole, you should be
thanking me.
Have you checked the street price today?
With the seizures at the border last week,
it's jumped thirty percent.
Whoa... whoa-whoa!
I sell guns. I don't sell drugs.
Diversify.
I've got standards.
You don't pay, you don't play.
Fuck you!
What are you doing?
Fuck you!
Fuck you!
No, you don't fuck him.
We can work something out.
No, Vit!
We have a deal!
The first and most important
rule of gunrunning...
is never get shot with your own
merchandise.
Are you okay?
I think so.
So what do we do now?
Let's celebrate.
That narco guerilla had his facts right.
After shipping it stateside,
the return on that blow
netted me a healthy profit.
It would have been even better,
except one kilo never made it back.
Vitaly?
Vit!
To this day I don't know what Vitaly...
...was running away from.
Maybe just from Vitaly.
I found him twelve days,
two thousand miles,
and one hundred and fifty grams later
in a Bolivian boarding house.
Of course, my dream girl
had gone there before me.
Vit!
Come on!
Fuck, Yuri's back.
It's my brother, Yuri.
He's my big brother.
What the fuck is that?
Ukraine.
I was young, but I remember.
Look... I start in Odessa, right?
And then I work my way to the
Crimean
You'll be dead before you fucking
reach Kiev!
We're going home. Come on,
You fuck! You fucking fuck!
You fucking fuck...
What the fuck is your problem?
Come on, Vit.
J.F.K. Airport, New York - 1989
Yuri, it's so nice to be home.
Yeah, good work.
We're gonna get you home.
Come on.
St. Francis Rehabilitation Center
Get out of the car.
Vitaly, I need you to get out of the car.
I promised our parents.
Please.
Vitaly, you're going to have a great time.
This is a top place.
Two Ford models checked in last week.
And that cute weather girl's been
here since July.
Please.
Please, Yuri.
You're a good brother.
You're a good brother, Yuri.
Okay. All right.
Good brother.
All right. Get out of the car.
Okay
Get out of the car.
From then on I was a one-man operation.
I never understood what separated...
the recreational drug user from
the habitual.
But for the grace of God...
it could've been me snorting lines
as long as the Belt Parkway.
However, I wasn't entirely free
of the grip of addiction myself.
There she was again.
Ava Fontaine.
In my neighborhood they say,
"The good get out."
In our own ways, we'd both
conquered the world.
St. Barts, French Caribbean - 1989
You can't force somebody to
fall in love with you.
But you can definitely improve your odds.
It cost me 20 grand to book he
for a fake photo shoot.
Another twelve to buy out the hotel.
Popular hotel, huh?
Ava Fontaine.
Yuri Orlov.
What brings you to St. Barts?
Photo shoot.
At least, that was the plan.
I guess the photographer got
stuck in Miami.
Hurricane. Though there's nothing
on the news.
Those things can come out of nowhere.
So... the job's been cancelled,
and wouldn't you know it,
there's no flight to New York until Tuesday.
You can hitch a ride with me if you like.
I'm leaving tomorrow.
Meanwhile, why don't I take your picture?
In my experience,
some of the most successful
relationships...
are based on lies and deceit.
Since that's where they usually
end up anyway...
it's a logical place to start.
Right there. Hold it there.
Oh, my God!
I nearly went broke trying to
convince her I was