All language subtitles for survival.code.2013.dvdrip.x264-nodlabs_track4_[eng]

The league of nations
thinks it can declare

an arctic free zone
and problem solved.

Well, it's been four years

and the big five are still
scratching and clawing

for control
of arctic resource development,

especially since China bought
its way into the argument.

Anyone think last week's
ramming of a Danish frigate

by a Russian nuke sub
was an accident?

No one's getting
the last gas and oil
on the planet without a fight.

Violence is
bound to escalate.

And as usual,
Canada's natural heritage land

is stuck in the middle.

What we need is
the league of nations...

Here, on the ground.

Off.

Now that the ice is gone,

everyone wants
a piece of the arctic--

Oil, gas,
minerals, water.

Everyone fighting
for their piece of the action.

That's okay, I don't mind.
It's good for business.

See, what really matters
is who got here first.

And that...

Would be me.

Would you listen
to me, please, Vic?

It's your place,
you're the boss.
So be it.

Bettina,
I just rent the space.

This is your hotel,
your bar.

- You make these rules,
so enforce them!

Okay, who else
am I supposed to go to, huh?

We're at the end
of the fricking world here.

You didn't get paid, too bad,
but I'm not your pimp.

Fine, but I'm not the one
who made the rule

about no taking off rubbers
in the Zipgrav.

- He did what?!
- Mm-hmm.

- That goddamn little brit!
- I told him Vic was
gonna be mad.

I am gonna kill him!
- I warned him, but he
doesn't listen!

Clive-- he doesn't
listen to nobody.

There's a sign on the door
in 12 different languages.

You're gonna
make him pay, right?

You eat half a sandwich,
you pay for the whole thing.

I told him
Vic was gonna be mad,

but Clive-- he doesn't
listen to nobody.

Look, you want to run
your business in my place,
fine, I don't complain.

- But I shouldn't have--
- what are you talking about?
All you do is complain.

- What?! No, I don't.
- Yeah. Yes, you do.

- Okay.
- Where the hell is it?

Look in your jacket.
I'm only asking you

to take part
of the responsibility
for once.

You bring these
nutjobs in here, I end up
having to throw them out!

I shouldn't have to clean up
after your clients, Bettina.

Excuse me?
You charge lots of money
for this anti-gravity,

and I'm the one who brings you
all the business. Okay?

You make all this money
because I'm here.

I should charge you
for all the customers
I bring in.

What?!
You should charge me now?

That's right.
I pay for my room.
Upkeep is for you.

No no no no.
You bring your clients
into the Zipgrav,

the responsibility is yours.

That's why you brought
the Zipgrav up here?

- It's for seasonal
affective therapy!
Anti-gravity.

- Oh please! You installed
the porno program!

Of course
they want to go in there!

It's not my fault!
Look, there he is!

You dirty little midget.

Come on. Come--

- Now-- now now, Vic,
whatever she's told you--
- I warned you about this!

- It's not my fault!
You see what
happens to cheaters?

You signed a contract
before going in.

- "No spillage of fluids
in the Zipgrav."

- No spillage.
- That's right.

- You're gonna clean it up.
- I'll clean it up.
I'll clean it up.

- And pay Bettina.
- And pay.

- Full price.
- You busy?

Do I look busy?

I'm not breathing.

I got something
to show you.

So what's my surprise?

Caribou meat
double in price?

Found this
on natural heritage land.

Looks kind of picked over.

- How'd he die?
- Old age.

Thank you, doctor.

Do you know who he is?

Not from around here.
No I.D.

Anybody see you
bring him in?

I knew you'd want
to keep this quiet.

Yeah, you think?

Let's get him inside.

He kind of smells.

I'll turn down the heat.

Is that your
long-term solution?

No, I need
to figure out who he is.

What you need is
an air-freshener.

Wild thing.

Oh hey, Vic!

- Listen, you should--
- You, out of my bar.

- No, listen,
you should definitely--
- you're banned.

Don't ban me!
Come on, please?

I cleaned everything up
like you asked.

- It won't happen again.
- Out!

I need the Zipgrav.

I suffer from seasonal
affective disorder.

It's part of my addiction
transfer program.

It's my lifeline.

Okay. Okay, it's only that
I came to tell you--

As a friend mind you--
That you're needed outside.

- Why?
- International incident
at your front door--

Guns, possible loss
of life.

- Seriously?
- You're gonna need
your customs jacket.

Bump the sound.

Miss Freemont, the dump is
an international free zone.

That cub wasn't
at the dump.

I've watched this cub since
he was three weeks old.

- He has a tracking chip
I put on him myself.

- Hey hey hey,
what's going on here?
- Vic, tell her.

My men wouldn't go
on natural heritage land.

They shot
the bear at the dump.
It's allowed.

I've tracked this cub
for the last seven months.

He was on his home range
and suddenly he's moving

at 60 kilometers an hour,
headed for the bar?

You better put that down
before you get hurt.

Everyone should put
everything down.

You vodka-retards
killed this bear
on natural heritage land.

Clear violation
of international
arctic protocol.

Vic, the woman
is hysterical.

What's the legality,
Mr. Carboneau?

At what point
am I allowed to detain

a Russian criminal
fleeing Canadian justice?

Detain, meaning
dropping him with 80g
of phenyl-bop-halo.

Okay.

I can understand that there was
an unfortunate accident

wherein a foreign visitor
may be unaware of natural
heritage land boundaries--

- oh, you've got
to be kidding me.
- However...

Since the bear is
clearly in Canadian
protectorate jurisdiction,

I'll have to impound
the bear.

The fucking bear
is ours.

You are welcome
to appeal, of course,

but then I'll have
to file a section 17
endangered species Ap,

which can delay
other customs activities.

- They'll leave the bear.
- Yeah, I thought so.

What? That's it?

What? That's
the penalty for killing
an endangered species?

Vic?!

Really?

You had to do that? Hey!

You hurt my crew,

you hurt me.

You have to keep
your crew in line.

They don't like
to be told how to behave
in international territory,

especially by a washed-up
cage fighter and barkeep.

Customs officer.

Anyway, international
opportunity zone,

- but Canadian protectorate.
- Temporarily,

until the security council
rules.

Well, who knows what
the future holds, right?

In the meantime,
it's my signature

that you need to take
anything in or out.

I am the rock that
this little venture rests on.

- So the bears
get left alone. Okay?

Let's not be threatening
and ridiculous.

If I wanted to,
I could shoot everyone here
and fly away.

And leave all this?

That'd be a terrible waste,
wouldn't it?

Yes. Yes, it would.

You're welcome,
by the way.

I don't need help
from you.

No. No no,
you were doing great.

Armed standoff,
Russian boot in your throat--

You were what,
in charge?

You set a precedent.

Now anyone can shoot
an endangered animal

on protected land
without consequences.

At least I did
something about it.

A bit of an overreaction,
don't you think?

The Russian I shot gets
to wake up tomorrow.

My cub doesn't.

What are you
gonna do with him?

Put him back
so his mother won't keep
searching for him.

Then I'll document
the birds and animals
that feed on the carcass

and put the bones
in storage.

Yeah.

The hide's worth
something in Moscow.

They might
come back for him.

Yeah, I hope they do.

What is that?

Don't do that!
don't override
my off like that.

You don't answer
your phone if I don't.
And I repeat, what is that?

It's a--

It's a drunk.
He needs to sleep it off.

I'm glad your
alcohol-poisoning business
is thriving, Vic,

but can you explain to me
how it's possible

- that there's a shooting on
the main street of borealis...

...overseen by you,
and I get the information
from the Russian consulate?

What do we pay you for?

Yeah, I was gonna
call you about that.

Too late,
I called you.

First up, your shooting?

It was a tranq dart.
There was no real harm done.

You're there
to prevent confrontations
with the internationals.

The hot-headed nutjob

has been put here
by you guys!

Alison Freemont
places herself, Vic.

She's an internationally-
respected biologist

with a blogcast
that's seen in virtually
every country in the world.

We can't stop her
from saying what she says.

Fine then.

But we can try to
control her activities,

which is another of the jobs
you're not currently doing.

Control her how, exactly?

She shot a Russian
in the ass.

You want peaceful
resource exploitation?

Find a way
to get rid of her.

The government
of Canada is not

in the getting-rid-
of-people business.

You should be.
Everyone else is.

I hate this thing.

Fucking hell.

If you're a geologist,
you're dead meat.

Whoa. You-- you scared
the crap outta me.

I-- I thought
I was alone out here.

Is that so?

To answer your question,
I am not a geologist, okay?

- I'm an archeologist.
- Really?

You're American and you're
on natural heritage land.

I'm not inclined
to believe you.

Really? I care
what you think because?

Look, the name's Dan Riordan.
I'm a post-doc from Berkeley.

- I can show you my I.D.
- Keep walking.

Look, I'm up here
on a research grant

to look for remains
of early 18th-century
Russian habitations.

Christ.

It was supposed
to be ready yesterday.

I pay extra
for fast fucking turnaround.

I had to fabricate a part.
It takes longer.

I could order new part
from Beijing faster!

- Bring over by boat.
- Hey, Roger.

Since you're here,
you got a minute?

I don't know.
Taq, do I got a minute?
Do I got an hour, 12 hour?

Look, I need a doctor.
You're the closest thing

- for a thousand
Miles, all right?
- What? You got the clap?

No. I got a situation.
I need discretion.

Well, discretion will
cost you.

Everything costs me.
Come on.

What, are you coming too?

Of course you are.

What do you think?

Mmm. Ruptured aorta...

Fractured skull...

Internal bleeding.

Yeah, this one falls
from a high place.

He was
on a plateau.

You ever heard
of aeronautics?

Transportation device
that go up in the air?

You think he was dead
before he hit the ground?

Ah, how I am supposed
to know this?

- I'm psychic suddenly?
- I don't know.

I was just asking.

I finished
my level 5 first aid.

I don't do autopsy.

Here.

What is this here?

Who carries a 6-inch spike
in his long underwear?

Now what?

- Try bending him.
- This is your plan? Really?

Wait till someone
orders a special?

Somebody air-streamed
this putz, whoever he is,

which means somebody's happy
and somebody's probably pissed.

Until we know who's who
and what it is they want--

Well, what have we here?

So many questions.

Raminder, you've been
stationed here, what,

- six, seven months?
- Seven months and four days.

I came with the first
drill rigs four years ago,

and I can tell you that
accidents happen.

Accidents?
- Misadventures, roughhousing
gone wrong,

the occasional malicious
score-settling. It's part
of the charm of the place.

Yeah, it goes with
the last scraps of oil
and gas feeding frenzy.

There you go.
A self-cleansing system

that's best left
to do its good work.

We're talking
potential murder here.

No! You think?

- No.
- No way.

Hm-mmm.
- People getting beaten to death

on Canadian soil
provokes my mandate.

Beaten to death?
We don't know that.

- Do we?
- No, not really. No.

Look, a corpse found
in the free zone--

Taq didn't find him
in the free zone.

Taq found him
on natural heritage land,

- which is Canadian territory.
- Well, Taq is a little shaky

on the exact location
and the boundaries.

As an indigenous
Inuit person, I believe--

Half Inuit. Only half.

His father was
an Irish mix from Kentville
or some such place--

A people with notoriously
poor sense of direction.

- I'm sorry, Taq,
no offense.
- None taken.

All I'm saying is
the corpse could have been
found in the free zone.

Yeah. Yeah,
it could have been.

Look, the last thing
the government wants

is public perception
that there are murderers
on the loose in borealis.

The guy's pretty battered.

Wasn't that your
previous occupation?

- Battering people?
- You can't be serious.

Who is the deceased?

Either one may answer.

- Don't know.
- Don't know.

- No I.D.
- No I.D.

Did either
of you kill him?

Not to the best
our knowledge.

Mr. Quinn, do you agree?

- Not to the best
of our knowledge.
No.

Do you agree
with Mr. Carboneau that
neither of you killed him?

Are you sure you
don't want to separate us
so there's no collusion?

I believe
I can recognize collusion.

Okay.
- For God's sake, Private,
that's a human being.

Be careful.

- Sure thing, boss.
- Lieutenant.

Now why were you trying
to hide a corpse?

We weren't.
We were just trying to
keep him cold, lieutenant.

That's what
I was gonna say.

- Is that collusion?
- I don't know. Is it?

May seem funny now,

- but when it's read back
to you in a courtroom--

Oh, bad news?

It seems a senior
government bureaucrat
has decided

- I should not
be detaining you.
- Oh, good then.

Well, look at the time.
This is
not over, Vic.

I intend to pursue
my investigation.

Excellent,
I'd like my spike back.

If it's anyone's property,

it's John Doe's.
I'll keep it on his behalf.

Okay, there's some,
you know, personal information

on there that's not re...

Whoa whoa whoa!
Okay, whoa whoa.

That-that's a single-malt
from Iona in Scotland.

- You can't--
- Sit.

This is
a bad place to camp.

I've pitched tents
all over the world.

I have bear-repellant,
good camp habits.

Try using bear-repellant
while Samantha's licking out
the inside of your skull.

12-year-old polar bear
who just lost her cub

to some Russian rig-pigs.

You won't even see
her coming.

You can set up
in the yard tonight.

- Outside?
- Well, you're not
getting my bed.

Tomorrow
I'll take you to town.

- What about the bear?
- I got a high-freq grid.

- You're safe inside
a hundred meters.

- I recognize that
from your blog.

Free Mountain blog,
exposing corporate
malfeasance,

political ineptitude,
media complicity.

Required viewing
for my students.

You have students?

Post-doc comes
with teaching requirements

and yes,
many of my grad students
are older than me.

Anyways, I'm a big fan.

Proud to sleep
in your dirt.

Can I offer you
a drink later?

It's really good scotch.

I'm not concerned
about the quality
of your scotch.

I'm more concerned
with who paid for it.

- The fashion.
- You ever work?

Yes, I work
all the time.

The vikings give me
two days off.

It's not worth
going anywhere.

So what happened
to your addiction transfer?

Alcohol to weightlessness?

It's not going so great.

Now I've got
two addictions. Cheers.

You patch things up
with Bettina?

No, she's still
pissed off.

I'm working on it.

Hey. Do you, uh--

Do you know this guy?

- He's looking poorly.
- Viking?

He's not one I know.

Well, can you
find out for me?

Free hour of Zipgrav
in it for you.

And I know it's not
your strong suit,

but if you could
be discreet, all right?

- I'm your man.
- Oh God.

Alison!

That her?
Samantha?

Look, can I come in?

That sound's
a little unnerving.

Close the door.

Who do
you work for, Dan?

I told you,
U.S.C. at Berkeley.

I turn off
that barrier in the night
and you're all hers.

So who's funding
your research?

Polar X Petroleum, Motron,

or maybe the Chinese are
recruiting abroad now?

Okay, it's true.

Polar X is
a significant contributor
to my university,

- but the work is still
legitimately academic.

So what do you do
when you find evidence
of early Russian habitation?

Bury it?
Destroy it?

Look, I can't do
my work without funding.

Polar X pays the bills.

You know, just my luck,

the, uh-- the best
possible result

of my best-funded
project ever...

We'd find nothing.

That's the first thing
that you've said that
sounds like the truth.

Well, welcome to borealis.

I came here
to study wildlife.

Instead I'm presiding over
the disappearance of...

One species
after another.

don't make me
go back out there.

Okay, look, I will
not move from off this box.
I promise you that, okay?

Carboneau's hanging in there,

- but Murdock's
younger and faster.

There's some serious
dark streak in that man

and you do not want
to let him use those legs.

Carboneau better get him
to the floor if he can.

Oh!

Murdock catches Carboneau

with a knee
and he goes down!

Oh, he's hurt!
He's hurt!

Murdock follows up
with a devastating kick
to the head.

This is over!

Carboneau's not moving!

Oh my God,
he's not moving!

- Good morning.
- Mm-hmm.

You feel like making
time and a half?

Let me finish
my pancakes.

Not me. Wasyl.

Time and a half
and you're paying?

Why? You wanna watch?

Here's what
I need you to do.

Vic! Vic!

What are you
getting me into?

I told you to be
discreet, didn't I?

It turns out roadkill is
a Norwegian archeologist,

Thorvald Sigurdsson.

And you didn't mention
he was tossed from a bird.

Yeah, well,
it slipped my mind.

The vikings
don't even know yet.

So what happened?

Come here.

The Norwegians have
got their own little
history dig going on,

hoping to prove up a claim
to get a bigger share
of the gas pool.

Thorvald's last seen heading
to the Russian dig site,

- and not seen alive again.
- They don't report him missing?

They think
he's still out there.
Digging, I guess.

They won't be cool to hear
the russkies capped him.

- The Russians?
You sure about that?
- Yeah, I know the pilot

of the bird that dropped him.
Now everyone knows I've
been asking around.

The vikings are
gonna think I had
something to do with it.

- The Russians are gonna
think I ratted them out.
- Calm down, all right?

I don't like this.
I'm not asking no more
questions for you.

Clive, it's gonna
be fine. Relax.

You got an hour
of Zipgrav coming to you.

And a fucking drink.

And a drink.

I need to go
the Russian sector
dig site.

- You want to come?
- No.

I could use the backup.
I think Alexi might still
be pissed at me.

For breaking his nose
in three places?

- I can't imagine why.
- Please?

- I'm not
in the bodyguard business.

A favor then, to be repaid
at some point in the future.

If you have one.

I, uh-- I had
this weird dream last night.

I'm wandering
through the tundra,

passing all these Inuit,

but it was like
it was some other time--

Seal-skin clothes
and stuff.

And... none of them
will look at me.

They'll talk to me,
but it's like they're
looking at my chest.

You had the dream.

- What dream?
- The man-with-no-head dream.

Old story the people tell.

About a thousand years ago
they found a man,

European of some kind,
wandering around a stone house
without a head.

We ask him,
"what are you looking for?"
But he can't answer.

He has no head.

So they leave him there.

Place became known as...

"House of the man
with no head."

You make up this shit just
to screw with me, don't you?

Let's go.

I was hoping
to speak to you

about a recently-discovered
dead body.

Foul play suspected.

Suspected by who?

By me.

You're investigating
a murder?

- Mmm.
- Mmm.

Who found the body?

- Carboneau.
- Vic?

No, I don't think so.
Taq, maybe.

Well, perhaps I could
stop by your research station

as part of my investigation.

I, uh-- I often
watch your blog

and think we have
a lot in common.

I got a room,

so I'll move
to town for a while.

I should get my gear
out of your vehicle.

Dan, have you met
Lieutenant Raminder Singh?

Where are you going,
customs man?
Are you lost?

Hey. I like what you've done
with your nose. Very nice.

- No no no no no no no.
- You're not in Canada anymore.

Vic here
is our first tourist.

We want him
to come back.

A tour.
That sounds delightful.

May I?

For nearly 300 years
this lay undetected--

A Russian explorer,
presumed lost at sea.

We have most
of his remains.

Most?

All but the head.

It will
almost certainly settle

our national
sovereignty claim
in this area.

Have you heard
of a Thorvald Sigurdsson?

Norwegian archeologist.

He fell out of one
of your choppers
the other day.

I'm sorry the Norwegian
decided to jump.

- Oh.
- This climate affects
some more than others.

The pilot would confirm
that suicide, I suppose?

If he were still
with us, yes.

He went back
to Vladivostok yesterday.

- Mmm.
- And your interest
in this is what?

Almost none.

I would just like
to be reassured
that this isn't

gonna blossom
into some kind of turf war.

- Bad for everyone.
- Mmm.

No. Certainly a dead issue
from my perspective.

So your headless fellow here,
you're sure he's Russian?

Oh yes.
Vladimir Constantinov.

He claimed this territory
for the Russian empire in 1741.

This is what brought
Mr. Sigurdsson here.

He believed
that Constantinov had
retraced the steps

of some Norwegians
from previous centuries

who had claimed
the territory for themselves.

But, based on ironworks
we found,

the vikings
Constantinov followed

were actually Russians
from Novgorod.

So either way
it's a Russian site.

Maybe that's why
Sigurdsson was so depressed.

I wonder
how your Russian
lost his head.

No doubt from asking
too many questions.

Any luck?

Well, if I had,
I wouldn't be sat here,
would I?

Well, it could be worse.

You could be
dumped out of a helicopter
on heritage land.

How are they taking it?

- Who?
- His mates.

Don't know what
you're talking about.

There's no point in trying
to keep it a secret.

Mmm.

The goofs
at the army base know.

It's only a matter of time
till everyone finds out.

Well, the vikings
don't know yet,

and they're not gonna
hear it from me, all right?

I'm putting it
out there on my blog,
so you're safe.

Well, I shouldn't, but...

Oh, Christ, that's good.

Research-funded
single malt.

As predicted, borealis is
incrementally disintegrating

into a lawless nest
of thugs, rogues

and now maybe murderers.

Norwegian scientist
Thorvald Sigurdsson died

after falling or being thrown
from a Russian helicopter.

- Oh no she didn't.
- Why?

- No one knows.
- You've gotta be kidding me.

But it's clear
what's needed is
a moratorium

on the free zone's
resource exploitation.

It's a disaster
for the local environment...

- Make me a drink please.
- ...The global environment,

for Canada's slender
sovereignty claims,

and now for
the tenuous rule of law.

...Scientist,
Alison Freemont.

Questions about the death
of Norwegian archeologist

- Thorvald Sigurdsson
will not go away.

- Your spike.
- Any problems?

Just the usual.

Vikings aren't
going to like that.

Yeah, I don't like it
much myself.

- Murdering Russians!
- No, Sven. No.

Don't do it, buddy.

Easy easy.
Come on, stop it.

Stop struggling. Stop.

You guys might want
to get the hell out of here!

Finish your drinks and get
the fuck out of here! Now!

Stop. Come on.

Come on. Easy, buddy.
Stop struggling.

Stop it!

You good?
You good?

Okay, buddy, come on.
Come on.

Someone is
going to kill them.

Maybe not me, but...

Someone.

Hey!

Hey!

You got any clue
what you've done?

Oh, don't act like
you're trying to preserve
the peace in borealis.

Yeah, a piece
of the action more likely.

- You just started a war.
- Good. With any luck,

the league of nations
will show up, stop the drilling
and send you idiots home!

You got to be kidding me.
Hey, look, are you nuts?

You don't go after
the Russians alone!

- You have pissed off...
- Did you hear me invite you in?

...some dangerous people!
Do you not get this?!

Oh, I get it!
I just happen to think

you're all equally dangerous
and oblivious.

Listen to me.

These people answer
to no one, okay?

They don't care
that you're famous
and loved by millions.

All right?
They will kill you
in your sleep

and not ever think
about it again.

Anton intends
to take over borealis.

You want to fight him?
Fine. Fight him smart.

Nothing I said on my blog
was untrue. Nothing.

I'm not saying it was untrue.
I'm saying it was indiscreet.

Now we have
a huge problem

and you are right
in the middle of it.

Wake the hell up, okay?

- Everyone's mad at me.
- Really?

I wonder why.

You spewed everything
you know to Alison Freemont,

- the one person who's
most likely to tell...
- Here you go.

...10 billion people
worldwide.

Stuff you were supposed
to keep quiet for me.

She already knew...

Most of it, anyway.

The vikings are mad.
The Russians are mad.
You're mad.

I can't go back to the rigs
till things calm down.

I need a room.
Please?

You got me into this.
You owe me that much.

Gimme 7.

The Dane's kind of trash,
but it's empty.

You're a good man, Vic.

I won't forget this.

That from the Russian dig?

What's it to you?

If you want to know
where it came from,

the foundry marks
might tell you more.

I have a bit of a background
in this kind of thing.

Really?

I know you don't like
coming to town,

not that I blame you.
Not the sort of community

I'd hoped to find
when I was posted here.

- It's not
a community, Raminder.

It's a human refuse pile.
What exactly can I do for you?

Your rather public
accusation of criminal
activity in borealis

leads me to believe
that you know more

about the situation
than you are sharing.

- And...?
- And I think
you should tell me

what you know
about the murder
of Thorvald Sigurdsson.

I'm doing some
investigating myself.

In fact, I want you
to look at something.

You want me to look
at your stapler?

- No.
- I gotta go.

It's not my-- no, wait!

I actually did have
a piece of evidence. I--

Wasyl!

Okay, here.
This is the match
I was looking for.

It was forged
in the Holmgard ironworks--

Now the Russian city
of Novgorod--

Between 1000 and 1100 A.D.

So it really is
a Russian spike.

- Amazing.
- Yes and no.

Holmgard was
a viking town,
settled on land

that in a later
time was absorbed
by the Russian empire.

Not made by people
of, shall we say,
Russian descent.

So how did it get here?

It wasn't nailed
in a Russian ship.

It came
in somebody's pocket.

Last month there was
a robbery at a museum

in Oslo where
Thorvald Sigurdsson worked.

Ah. So you can prove
that it's stolen.

No. No,
it'd be pretty tough.

I mean, it takes
a lot of these things
to make a ship.

Once it's documented
in the archeological site,
it's legitimate.

Okay, how many spikes
were stolen?

Six.

Vic! Vic, you have
to come right away!

- Come. Please.
- What?

- Which one next?
- Anti-immune R.N.A. Blocker.

Yellow. Yellow.

- Have you ever
seen this work?

The nano-beavers crave
disruption in tissue.

- If he can be revived,
they'll do it.
- He was dead.

- Hold that.
- Okay.

- Hold that there.
- He's breathing.

Whoever did this
thought it would be cute

to snuff him in the Zipgrav.
It actually kept him
from bleeding out.

His brain might be shot,
but I guess we'll find out.

It was
the Russians did this.

Alexi and Nicolai,
I saw them hang around here.

Keep the pressure on.

Okay.

We need to talk!

I find myself
needing to remind

my foreign guests
of our little

Canadian sovereignty
issue, remember?

I also really don't
appreciate finding

my friends semi-murdered
on my premises.

Clive violated the terms
of his agreement.

Sensitive information is
of little value

if it's shared
indiscriminately.

- And Sigurdsson?
- He got greedy.

Used the threat
of going public
as his leverage,

mistaking this
as public.

You keep
mistaking this as Russian.

Please, Vic.

I know you like
to think of this
as Canadian territory,

but I'm not paid
to embrace others' delusions.

You have
a reputation for adapting
to new circumstances.

Feel free
to start anytime.

- And if I don't?
- You end up like Clive.

I'm sorry to be blunt,
but this is the world
we live in.

You and I could
work together,

or... you can leave.

- These are your options.
- No.

No.

I'm not going
anywhere.

This is my place.
I built it.

I own it.
It's mine.

And you are here
because I allow you to stay.

Understood?

Now where is
your other boy? Hmm?

The one who helped slit
my friend's throat?

I don't think
I'll tell you.

You know what?

It's okay.
I'll wait.

Sooner or later,
everybody comes to Vic's.

Russians. Shit.

I don't know why I care
about him so much.

He's just trouble
all the time.

I never saw
anybody dead come back.

How did you learn
to do that?

I had a good cutman.

He gave me his kit
when he left the business,

showed me how to use
the nano-beavers.

Did you ever kill a man

when you were
a famous fighter
in Montreal?

No.

Did someone kill you?

And you came back
like Clive?

Sometimes I see your hand
and it shakes a little.

Yeah. Well, there you go.

Let me know
if he wakes up.

Why do you stay
in this shithole?

You have the money
to get out.

You have the citizenship
to go where you want.

Why do you stay here?

I'm not sure
what to do with this.

Nicolai.
He went back
for the cub.

- You did this?
- Don't be an idiot.

Where's his head?

I found
some skull fragments,
bits of hair,

but I didn't try
to pick them all up.

I'm guessing Samantha,
you know, helped herself.

Well, could put him
in the freezer, I guess.

So did I dream I was
the headless Russian

or was I the one
without the head?

Beats me.
Your dream.

Voila.

Nice.

Ah, my mom was
a soapstone carver.

- Is that so?
- Mm-hmm.

I did not know that.

Hey!

- Morning.
- Morning.

There was an explosion
last night at the dig site.

Really?

You know, those little
compressed heaters

are great
unless they leak.

The solar ones
are much safer,
don't you think, Taq?

- Yeah.
- Yeah.

- Not as warm though.
- True.

You know, we inspected
the debris very carefully,

but for some reason
the only thing we could
not find evidence of

were the ships' nails
we discovered.

- Huh.
- You'd think

a fragment of one
of them would remain.

- You'd think.
- Well...

I'm almost certain
they'll turn up somewhere.

We can only hope.

Oh, I don't know
if you heard--

The league of nations
has appointed

a liaison officer
to borealis--

- Svetlana Virchou.
- New neighbors, good.

Yeah, I wondered when
they were gonna move in.

Mmm. I suppose all
the recent commotion

has attracted
the league's attention
and they saw the need

to put an international
authority figure here
on the ground.

Russian by chance?

I don't know.

You'll have to ask her.

This man
should be dead.

He was.
- And you glue this
soccer hooligan

back together
for what reason?

He was bleeding
on my floor.

What Anton causes to be dead,

you bring back
to life at your peril.

Is he gonna walk
and talk again or what?

If you are lucky,
he will finish dying.

If he live,
he could be a human turnip.

Thank God you're not
a real doctor.

Hey, I spend
my fee at your bar.

You tell Darion
to start a new chit.

No no, I can't use "Xanadu,"
it's a proper noun.

- Taq, what are you doing?
- I'm playing scrabble.

Hey, you know a word
that starts with "X"?

Well, this should
be interesting.

No.

Vic Carboneau,
customs official.

I also own this place.

Svetlana Virchou,

special envoy
from the league of nations.

I know.
Can I get you a drink?

- Not at 10:00 A.M.
- it's the arctic.

Day and night aren't
the same thing here.

I wanted
to introduce myself
because I know

what an influential figure
you are here in borealis.

- Really?
- Customs official,
air-strip owner, hotelier,

supplier of goods
to the international interests.

- Here you go, Vic.
- Only legal ones, of course.

Of course.
I know, for example,
you provide a setting

for lonely
young rig workers
to meet,

shall we say,
new friends?

- I'm sentimental that way.
- You sell them refreshments,

introduce them
to games of chance.

Anything to make
their time here
more pleasant.

You wouldn't think it,
but you and I have
a lot in common.

- Do tell.
- You need harmony
in the community

and a balance
of political power

to keep your philanthropic
enterprises functioning.

And so do I.
Exploiting the earth's

last major
oil and gas fields is
a competitive business.

It can lead
to political tension.

- I hate political tension.
- We all do.

You may find this
hard to believe,

but certain people
have tried to get me
to leave my useful work here.

- Shocking.
- I know.

Luckily,
I am not easily moved.

- Lucky for everyone.
- Mmm.

Yes. I think
we'll turn out to be
great friends, you and I.

I do hope so.
In the meantime,

let me know if there
is anything you need
for your new quarters--

Furnishings,
restocked bar,

small white envelopes
with whatever you like.

That won't be necessary.

I've come with all
the necessities of life.

- What did she want?
- Nothing.

She wants to be friends.

Why does she want
to be friends with you?

Why would anyone want to
be friends with you,

- for that matter?
- Exactly.

What's the story here?

Stuff came in
for the Danes.

Let's see what we got.

Mudcat parts,
motherboards,

frak shots,
canned herring.

Five cases
of aquavit.

Four.
Four cases of aquavit.

Four cases of aquavit.

What the hell
are you doing?

- Ah, Bettina.
- I said what are you doing?

- My man here lost his scan key.
- If you touch Clive again,

- somebody finishes you.
- Why are you telling me
my business?

Do I tell you yours?

Do I say
a Chinese likes it this way,
a Norwegian like that?

No, I don't.

If Vic catches you here,
you're dead men, both of you!

You watch someone
doesn't boil you in a pot.

What's going on here?

I caught them
trying to break in.

- They were going
after Clive again.
- This bitch is hysterical.

- You watch your mouth.
- You do not touch Anton.

I don't care if this whore
is your wife.

Stop! Stop!
Wasyl, what the hell
are you doing?

They were gonna attack Clive.
Bettina caught them.

Going to?
Your Private here
is a mind reader.

- Wasyl?
- Well, they were
disrespecting Bettina.

So you punched him?
Please, I'm sorry.

- I apologize for my Private's--
- That is not good enough.

- Now he's all offended.
- Shut up.

Private Demchuck's actions
are inexcusable.

He sucker punched me.
I'm launching a formal
complaint

with the league of nations.
I was assaulted

by a drunk Canadian soldier.
I want satisfaction.

- You deserved it,
you little twat.
- Private, be quiet.

- Hey, you fight me fair,
that's something else.
- Anytime.

You have
every right to launch
an official complaint,

but I would ask that
in everyone's interest

you please accept
an apology.

- I'm not apologizing
to you, no way.
- What?

- He should be
apologizing to Bettina.
Gentlemen.

If the issue is
the punch wasn't fair,

- then make it a fair fight.
- You bet.

- I'll fight this little
garden gnome anytime.
- No.

No no.

No, I can't
take responsibility
if your man gets injured.

We'll make them sign off.
A cage fight.

It will good for the town.
People like a little
distraction.

No, he's a soldier
in my command.

If he injuries
a civilian--

It's either this
or the L.O.N.

Looks like
you need lubricant.

I've got aquavit.

There's a dozen ways
to tell me you're coming.

- You don't just show up.
- I'm old fashioned.

No. No, you're not.

You're strategic.

Drink?

Oh, another "gift"
to customs?

Sometimes I don't understand
my own popularity.

You got glasses?

So, you met
the new special liaison

from the league of nations?

Yeah, we've met.

It's gonna be
a bright new day
for some of us.

She follows my blog.

She's sensitive
to environmental issues.

You didn't fail to notice
those heavily armed lugs

in Red Berets, did you?

No more commercial incursion
into natural heritage lands,

no more drunk hunters
shooting the place up.

- You trust her?
- More than the idiot crowd

of slobbering greedheads
I'm usually surrounded by.

Actually, you're
surrounded by marmots

that aren't even indigenous.

All right,
you made a new friend.

- Good for you.
- And not so good for you.

Mmm.
Thanks for the drink.

Or maybe
I should thank the Danes.

Now I've got work to do.

- I was--
- Zip it up on your way out.

Yeah. Okay.

I brought you
some food.

You need
to eat something.

Okay. Some porridge.
Not too hot.

Come.

Here, come on.

Please.

Chew.

Good.

You're so lucky.

Not many men come back
from being dead as you.

Stay.

Aha.

I told Vic you were
going to be okay.

Here. Come on.

Wasyl, what were
you thinking?

Drunk on duty,
undisciplined, slovenly.

- You're making us
look like idiots.
Lieutenant Singh?

I am the de facto
authority here,

but of course
with the international
free zone,

definition of "free"
is as loosely as it is.

I see the position
you're in, yes.

I can investigate
but not arrest,

inquire
but not prosecute.

It's maddening.

Someone with
your obvious talents--
it's a waste.

Do you know
what our biggest
problem is here?

- Hmm?
- Vic Carboneau.

He has some kind
of government protection,

otherwise I would've
had him arrested long ago.

Whatever goes wrong
in borealis, he's usually
at the root of it.

- In what way?
- Graft, corruption,

illegal activities
of all kinds.

The Russians believe
he stole some artifacts

from their archeological
site recently,

some... ships' nails.

The list goes on and on.

A league of nations presence
in borealis

can be a terrific resource
for you, Raminder.

We have common goals--
Order and public safety.

If we work as a team,

I see no reason
why a posting like this

couldn't turn
into a career win for you.

- More tea?
- Please.

Svetlana Virchou is clean.

No affiliations,
no skeletons in the closet.

Swiss or Austrian possibly,

raised in Argentina
by diplomat parents.

I rolled out
the welcome carpet.
There was no uptake.

Someone else has
to be paying her.

You've got a dark
and suspicious turn
of mind, Vic.

- I learned it from you, ma'am.
- Maybe she's actually what
she says she is.

No. No, everybody comes
to borealis to make money--

Everybody--
and I got no problem
with that.

I just want to know
how she plans to do it,

and how much
it's gonna cost me.

This is not about
your hobbies or side deals.

L.O.N. Presence
in borealis represents

- a serious threat
to our own sovereignty.

Look, can't you just make
an official complaint

and have her replaced
with someone you own?

You're all we have up there,
so try not to get killed,

or arrested or otherwise
incapacitated, all right?

Volcoff is pushing
the L.O.N. Hard.

If the Russians get
the ruling they want,

they'll have a stranglehold
on the world's oil supply.

What is that sound?

I don't know.

What the fuck
is going on?!

- What is he on?
- I don't know,

- but I'm not gonna ask him.
- You're a true
humanitarian, Taq.

- He's gonna hurt himself.
- Somebody better do something.

- Come on, buddy.
- Bataar, it's Vic.

Hey hey hey hey.

- I could use some help here.
- I think you're doing great.

What are you on?
You're breaking my shit!

Fuck that.
Come on. Come on.

Come on, come on.

Come on.

That's right.

What, are you nailed down
or something?

What's going on here?

Nothing.

Bataar is normally
a pretty happy drunk,

especially on payday.

Any idea
what's actually
in his system?

Blood reads clean.
I don't know.

Maybe, uh, maybe
the ghost-meth-pogo.

I've heard
about meth-pogo.
What's with the ghost?

Ghost, it masks itself
in the blood

for the first
couple days, okay.

You can only find it
in trace elements after
the full metabolism.

This is how the rig-pig,
they beat the screen.

Is he gonna be any calmer
when he wakes up?

Depend on how much he took.

I'll be outside.

Anti-gravity
sequence engaged.

Whoa. Ooh. Whoa.

Ghost-meth is
an internationally-banned
substance.

It's presence here should
be very troubling to you

in your capacity
as customs officer.

It is. Deeply.

I would hate to find out
he got it from you.

I would hate for you
to find that out too.

You have a quick temper,
Mr. Carboneau.

I found it useful
in my previous occupation.

But those days are over,
aren't they?

I think she likes you.

How should I set the odds?

- A bunch of guys
want in on this.
- What are you talking about?

Wasyl against
the new Russian in the cage.

Five to one is generous.
Wasyl is a heavy favorite.

Wasyl? Why the hell
doesn't anybody tell me
anything around here?

What new Russian?

Sergei something
or another.

Sergei?

Hello, Anton.

You're new here,
right?

I'm Vic Carboneau.
I own this place.

Care to join us, Vic?

There's a new drug
in town, Anton.

- Really?
Mm-hmm.

And because
Sergei here is new,

he may not know the rules
about drugs in borealis.

We love 'em.

Recreational whatever,
booze of all kinds--

It's all good fun.

I don't even take
a piece of the action.

I just collect a small tax
for the government of Canada.

That's it.
Except...

For drugs that cause
people to go berserk
on themselves or others.

That's a non-starter
around here.

Like the fucking crap
the Mongolian took.

We don't take that.

Drugs like these are
destabilizing influence.

The new L.O.N. Presence
might be signaling

a certain lack of confidence
in customs enforcement.

Could be a whole new
set of rules on the horizon.

L.O.N. Can have
any rules they want.

I still have mine.

I understand you're getting
in the cage with Wasyl.

He sucker punched me.

We will see how tough
he is in a fair fight.

I don't know.
Grain-fed prairie farm boy--

Dumb as a sack a hammers,
but fucking tough.

I have been
in one or two farms
in my life as well.

Mmm.

What, are you
living here now?

Clive seems to do better
when I'm around.

Really? Nothing wrong
with his appetite.

Well, I have to feed him

but yeah,
he's eating good.

His hands work better now.

He likes to put them
here, like this.

Are you sure
he's not conscious?

Well, he's sort
of half here and half not.

I don't know.
Do you think he'll
ever be right again?

It's too soon to know.

Listen, do you think
it's weird,

Anton and Sergei try
to get in the back way,

and just then
Wasyl shows up?

Wasyl follows me
like a puppy.
You know that.

Yeah, everyone knows that,
even Anton.

Looking for you everywhere.
The Mongolian awake yet?

Oh shit! Bataar.

Hey, buddy.

Can you tell me
what you took?

Needle?

Pill?

Pill. Okay.
What color was it?

Blue, like his pants?

Purple?

Purple. Purple.

Purple pill. Okay.

Can you take him back
to the Chinese sector?

See if you can
keep him home for a while?

I do my best.
I'm going to need some help.

Hello, Vic.
So just to review,

- you have
a Chinese rig worker...
- Mongolian.

- ...high on a banned
recreational drug.
- Which he did not get from me.

But which he was enjoying
in your Zipgrav.

Look, I won't even get
into the bookmaking,

the pilfering of goods
held in trust by customs.

The Danes complained to me
about missing aquavit.

I though you weren't
gonna get into it.

You think nothing
could happen to you,
but you're wrong.

Borealis is about
to change for the better.
That is not good news for you.

Svetlana Virchou is

about to become your
new best friend, right?

If the L.O.N. Puts
its security muscle

- behind the Canadian authority
on the ground...
- Meaning you.

...whatever protection
you've been getting
from Ottawa

is gonna melt away
like the last iceberg.

Are you really
this stupid?

You actually think
L.O.N. Wants to protect

- Canadian sovereignty?
- L.O.N. Is about order

and good government,
and so am I.

L.O.N. Is about
taking control of a place

and selling it off
to the highest bidder!

Suez, Panama, Borneo,
Madagascar, Nepal.

In case you haven't
noticed, we are sitting

on the last oil and gas
reserve on the planet.

You think they don't want
a piece of that?!

You are about to become
Svetlana Virchou's valet.

You heard it here
first, friend.

I brought you something.

I used to have a cat
who brought me presents
like that.

A yellow-breasted
meadowlark.

Given the plumage,
I'm guessing it's a male.

Yeah. Never documented
this far north.

- That's crazy.
- You know the ancient Romans

believed that flights of birds
were a portent.

Of what?

Well, that's the question,
isn't it?

I have tea...
Or aquavit?

- Tea please.
- Come on.

You seem more interested
in biology than archeology.

Yeah. I guess
I don't really draw
a rigid line.

I'm up here looking
for human-specific sites,

but it's all environment,
the living and the dead.

You know, even the oil
is transformed vegetation
and dinosaurs.

And yet you never seem
to find anything.

True.

Yeah. Yeah, I guess
I'm not very good.

Really it's just
an excuse to wander around
and camp out.

- Anyways,
I do find some things.

Like this arctic fox den.

It's hidden
along the Sirmilik Ridge.

Oh my God.

- Don't show this
to anyone in town.
- No, of course not.

You never know
with some of those idiots.

Maybe with the L.O.N. Around

we can finally start keeping
animals like this alive.

Hoshi, I need some help.

I'm trying to run a guy,
Russian, Sergei Krutinulov,

born 2011, Volgograd.

Supposedly graduated
as a mechanical engineer

but based
on his facial scars,

unless he's beating himself
daily with a slide rule,

there ain't no way
he's an engineer.

- I'm gonna
send you the link.

At your convenience, please.

- Your most humble
servant, Victor.

Let me guess.
Ms. Virchou requests
the pleasure of my company.

You have got some
really nice stuff in here.

- Thank you.
- I really like these chairs.

Nice.

Lightweight,
shiny, stackable.

Would look great
in my bar.

So, bad news, Vic.

- Oh?
- I've been alerted that certain
archeological materials--

Specifically
thousand-year-old
ship spikes--

- were recently stolen
from a Russian dig site.
- No.

I've been told
they may have been
confiscated by customs.

I was told
you were second runner-up
miss teen Geneva 2029.

Hmm? Well, maybe we were
both misinformed.

Did Anton tell you
I took those spikes?

I'm not big on blaming.

If the Russians get
their property back,

there'll be
no reason to pursue
the matter further.

The Russian's get
their property back,

they'll use it to consolidate
their sovereignty claim

- on the whole territory.
- I don't care if they want
to build a new ship

and sail it back to Russia.
Not really the point, is it?

I have to say,
I am struggling

to understand the point
as it relates to you.

Good works
and harmony, Vic.

"Good works
and harmony."

- don't do it.
- Bataar, don't do it!

Bataar!

Send the body
back to the family?

No.

Take him out
to the dump
for the bears.

Don't give me
that fucking look.

It is called
the casting out ceremony.

The mongols, they believe
the last virtuous act is

to give their body
to the animals.

You people
don't know anything.

- Should've kept him at home.
- You try and keep him at home!

Mongols, they do
what they want.

Look, he got
the side effect, okay?

That's why
he came back here--

To get the son of a bitch
who gave it to him.

- Bad choice.
- You see it?

One kick.
Bullet to the brain
would've been slower.

Wasyl's a dead man.

Profile's cooked up.
Sergei Krutinulov was
kicked off

the Russian army
special forces in 2038.

He went on the fight circuit
in southeast Asia

under the name
of Ivan Fiorin,
found a new career

- in corporate
special assignments.
- What kind of assignments?

The kind where
someone ends up dead
somewhere in the world.

What's he doing
in borealis?

- He didn't come for Bataar.
- Or Wasyl, I'm guessing.

The more your town
appears out of control,

the better case
the L.O.N. Has to take over.

The Russians have to believe
that's good for them.

This is about the spikes.

They killed a Norwegian
and now a Mongolian
for those spikes.

They won't stop now.
Be careful.

You wanna be
the big dog around here?
Arrest the Russian.

He killed an unarmed Mongolian
in the middle of the street.

- In self-defense.
- Who do you think
brought in the ghost-meth?

- You.
- Raminder, why the hell

would I bring
that shit into my bar?

You think I want people
chewing on my furniture,

- clawing holes in my walls?
- So why would anyone sell it?

To make us all look bad,
so the dragon lady

can swoop in,
and pretend to fix it all
after we're gone.

- You're paranoid.
- Oh, for fuck sakes.

Wasyl, listen to me.

Sergei killed Bataar
with a single blow in
a fraction of a second.

Is that how
you wanna die? Huh?

Pulling up your jockstrap
as you step into the ring?

Vic, someone's gotta show
these Russians whose country
they're screwing with.

I mean,
if we just roll over,
what's the point?

Why even put
the uniform on?

There is brave
and there is just
plain stupid.

Which one are you
gonna be, Wasyl?

I'm not chickening out.

Then you're gonna die.
You know that, right?

Look, I'm not backing down.

We do enough
of that around
here already.

That's not why
I signed up.

What happened here?

Bear broke into it last night.

- In the middle of town?
- Yup. You might wanna
keep that in mind

next time you're strolling
around after dark.

Such magnificent creatures.

It's criminal
they're reduced to this.

Stealing my expensive
and hard-earned meat supply?

Yes. Criminal.

Even the wildlife gets
a piece of the action
in borealis.

- Any idea how cynical
you sound, Vic?
- Some.

I got no problem
with people protecting
their turf.

I get it.
I just don't understand

what it is you're
trying to protect.

- The peace.
- Really?

- Then arrest Sergei.
- It was self-defense.

No, not for Bataar,
for Wasyl,

for the crime that's
about to be committed.

Two men who sign waivers,
willingly step into a cage.

You know something
about this.

- It's not my place
to stop it.
- Fine.

Then do it to stop
the ghost-meth.

Sergei's the one
who brought it in.

Neither one of us
can prove that.

And even if we could,
once I start down the road

of arresting people
for bringing in drugs--

You see how this
ends badly for me,
and probably you too.

Excellent point.

Stolen Russian artifacts,
on the other hand--

I don't know why you
like Anton's money

- better than you like mine.
- You see the world as
black and white.

Grey and darker grey.

Life is
a multi-colored fabric, Vic.

Don't assume I hold
only one viewpoint
at a time.

Vic, they're tearing up
your place!

- Who is?
- Her guys.

You don't make it easy
to stay friends with you, lady.

You hit me with that,
you'll miss your buddy's
funeral-- I'm not kidding.

You up on territorial
homeowners' rights?

I'm allowed to kill anything
that comes unwelcome
through that door.

There's two ways
to leave this room.
You pick.

Oh yeah.

Okay, I'm glad everyone's
having a nice time

screwing in hotel,
eating my food,

drinking my booze.
But the free ride is over.

Yeah, I'm starting to feel
a little bit better, Vic.

- No shit.
- Bettina was just helping me

relearn certain sensations.

I think he's almost
back to normal.

Why is that
my business?

Why is it your business
for that matter?

Why shouldn't I help him?
He's got a second
chance to live.

Who wouldn't want that?

You're alive enough to do this,

you are alive enough to get
a job and pay your way.

Call off your man.

And what have you done
for me lately?

Call him off
or you and I are gonna
have a very big problem.

You and I,
we already have a problem.

You stole
archeological materials

- that are very important to me.
- I don't have your spikes.

Oh, spare me.

We are grown men,
are we not?

We can speak plainly.

I know who Sergei is.

Then you know
the loudmouth
Canadian soldier

will surely die
if he sets foot
in that cage.

Bring me my spikes,
maybe he lives.

These are my terms.

You shouldn't count
on my affection

for that half-wit
Canadian soldier.

Whatever you say, Vic.

So you're just gonna
let Sergei kill Wasyl?

Why is this
my problem?

I came up here
to make some money

and get the hell
back down South.
It's not my job

to look after all these
half-wits and invalids,
all right?

That's how I felt
when you arrived.

I've got a business to run,

shipping manifests to forge.
I don't have time for this.

Yes, you're a busy
busy man. I know.

Think Anton'd pull Sergei off

- if he got those spikes?
- That's what he says.

Doesn't really matter
if the Russians
run the place.

Just another set
of white guys.

You all kind of look alike,
you know that?

Thanks.

You could cut
a deal with Anton.

They think
they can come in here

and take something I built
with my own two hands.

- And my two hands.
- Okay.

- And somewhere
in there were Sikh hands.
- The point is,

borealis is mine--
At least this part of it--

And I'm not giving it up.

Plus he's using Wasyl
to get to me.

I hate that.

Good thing
that's not working.

Clive?

Clive?

Hey.

It's okay.
It's okay.

Yeah yeah.

I was-- I was just
walking and then...

I don't know how
to describe it.

It was like
my brain exploded.

Tiny pieces
of me flying up
and spreading out

till I'm so thin, like I'm--
Like I'm not here anymore,

like I'm just... gone.

Do you know what I mean?

- Yeah.
- And then suddenly
I'm back here

and there's this
huge weight on me.

I'm trying to keep
myself together, stop myself
from flying apart again,

but it just feels
impossible.

Seems like when you die,
not all of you gets
to come back.

Well, who made that rule?

I got nowhere to go, Vic.
You know the rigs
won't take me.

The Russians still
want me dead.

Meanwhile I'm walking around
like I'm half here

with the rest of me
following behind like a cloud
of fucking mosquitoes.

I'm not so sure death
was a bad thing, man.

Hold it there.

You touch me and I'll stuff
that Beret down your throat.

It's all right.
It's all right.

Go inside please.

Arctic fox,

killed on natural
heritage land.

There are only
six breeding pairs
in Scandinavia.

- Maybe only 30
in north America.
- Who did this?

I don't read Cyrillic.

But maybe you do.

Why would Russians

shoot a fox and leave
a valuable pelt behind?

It's a message for me--
a threat-- because I outted
them in my blog.

You said things are
gonna be different.

So what are you
gonna do about this?

A shell casing is not
conclusive proof,

- but whoever did this
will be aggressively--
- chatted with?

The next foreign poacher I see
will be going home in a bag.

Alison,
I need more time.

You're just adding
to the noise.

- Dan, give me that!
- No.

Look, I'm not gonna
let that little Russian
kill somebody else.

Don't interfere in this, Dan.
I'm warning you.

Look, I know
what happened, okay?

I saw the pictures you posted.
But you can't do this alone.

Well, who else
is gonna stop them?

You and those idiots
at the army base?

I don't know, okay?
But it's not gonna
happen like this.

Not today.

Come on,
let's go for a walk.

Russian and Chinese vessels
remained in a standoff--

Alison's taking it
pretty hard.

I don't blame her.

She'll be next
if she doesn't
leave this alone.

You can't turn over
a rock without finding
a new Russian these days.

Must be pretty confident
over their territorial claim.

They control the last oil,

then the last water,
then the last food.

Gonna get ugly
for the rest of us.

If a person had some
archeological items
that needed

to find their way back
to the original owners--

A particular museum
in Norway...

Yes?

...how would that person
guarantee delivery?

The person would
give them to me.

That a theoretical question
or a practical one?

Not sure yet.

♪ Come and ease my mind. ♪

- Hey, buddy.
- Hey, Vic.

Listen, I've been studying
your last fight

and I figured out
where you made your mistake.

Is that so?
Good for you.

- How you feel?
- Hey, I'm ready.

- Are ya?
- Yeah.

He's tougher than what
I first thought, no doubt.

But I can handle myself too.

So if you think
I'm afraid of him, I'm not.

I know.

So what was my mistake?

Well, when you went
for the take down--

Please... show me.

Okay, well,
you went for a double

when you should've
just went for a single.

Sorry.

- Sit up and sit still.
- It's dislocated.

Sit up and sit still.
Trust me.

Bite this.
Bite bite.

I'm gonna count
to three, okay? One--

You're gonna want
a bunch of analgesics
and some anti-inflams.

There's gonna be
ligament damage,

but you should be okay
in four to six weeks.

At least you're alive.

- What about the fight?
- It's off.

Damn it.

Wasyl's out.
I'm in.

And this solves
my problem how?

Who said I'm solving
your problem?

Wasyl's injured.
He can't fight.

I'm his second.

You haven't
been in the cage
in a long time, Vic.

And last time
didn't end well.

A lot of punishment
to the head over the years,

my understanding is
it wouldn't take much.

To what?
Kill me again?

I guess we'll find out.

You're a businessman
like me.

Why should you die
over this small thing,

these old spikes?

Let's negotiate.

You have nothing I want.

Just make sure
he doesn't get
any headshots in.

I'll write
a note to myself.

You know,
I'm just curious...

Given that he's younger,
stronger, faster

- and possibly more skilled
than you...

...what makes you think
you're gonna survive
this fight?

And if you get killed,
it'll be a great inconvenience
to me personally.

Yeah, well,
if I don't make it...

Feel free
to shoot him.

Carboneau better get him
to the floor if he can.

Oh! Murdock catches Carboneau

with a knee
and he goes down!

Oh, he's hurt!
He's hurt!

What do you want?

If all the good men
get killed around here,

only the bad idiots
are left.

What's gonna happen to me?

Another vote
of confidence.

You should be in bed.
You have to sleep.

Come. Come on, Vic.

- No no, this--
- no, it's not for sex,
you dumb-ass.

It's because I'm nervous
and I don't like to be alone.

No sex.

Just sleep.

I saw you once,
back in Montreal.

This guy took me
to one of your fights.

We had good seats.
He was a high roller.

I had these beautiful
white boots back then.

And when I went home,

I was taking them off
and I noticed

these little spots
of blood on them.

So I threw them out.

Go ahead.

Can I talk to him?

Listen, I just wanted
to come by and wish you
good luck today.

If there's anything
I can do--

Like what?

Like whatever.

That package
you wanted delivered.

We'll talk
after the fight.

Sure, okay.

Um, it's just that...

What?

I might be dead
after the fight?

No. Well okay, but if
something happens, then--

Get out.

Okay.

Is it time?

I want to put on the record
at this point

that Mr. Krutinulov has agreed
to withdraw his complaint

against Private Demchuck
and agrees not to press charges

providing the missing items
are returned to the Russian
archeological site.

Mr. Carboneau,
do you understand

- what's being offered here?
- Yes.

And you choose
of your own free will

to compete in this cage fight
as a second

for the injured
Canadian soldier
Wasyl Demchuck?

Yes.

Mr. Krutinulov.

You can do it, Vic.
Kill this idiot.

Go for his head.

Get him, Vic.

Come on, Vic!
Pop him!

Come on!

Come on, Vic!
Get him!

Come on, man.

Let's go, Vic!

Get him, Vic!

- Get him, Vic!
- Get him, Vic!

Vic!

It doesn't end
like this.

Yeah, man!
Go on, yeah!

Get him!

Vic!

Vic, Vic, Vic, Vic,
Vic, Vic, Vic, Vic.

He's done!

- Yeah, no shit!
- He's done!

Vic, Vic, Vic, Vic,
Vic, Vic, Vic, Vic...

Vic, watch out!

Open the gate.

You are never
gonna get those spikes.