Original subtitles

The League of Nations thinks it can declare an Arctic Free Zone, and problem solved.

Well, it's been 4 years,

and the big 5 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 a 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!

Who else am I supposed to go to? We're at the end of the freaking 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 not taking off rubbers in the ZipGrav!

- He did what?!! - Mm-hmm.

- That goddamn little Brit! - I told him Vic's gonna be mad.

- I'm gonna kill him! - He doesn't listen!

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 whole thing.

I told him Vic was gonna be mad, but Clive, he doesn't listen to nobody.

You want to run your business in my place, I don't complain.

What are you talking about? All you do is complain!

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

- 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 nut jobs 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!

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? - That's right! I pay for my room!

- Upkeep is for you! - No, you bring your clients

in the ZipGrav. The responsibility's yours.

That's why you brought the ZipGrav up here.

It's for seasonal affective therapy!

Oh, please! You installed a porno program,

of course they wanna go in there! It's not my fault!

Look, there he is!

You dirty little midget! Come on! Come...

- Vic, whatever she told you. - I warned you about this.

- It's not my fault. - 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.

- 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 doubled in price?

Found this on Natural Heritage Land.

Looks kinda picked over. How'd he die?

- Old age? - Thank you, Doctor.

You know who he is?

Not from around here. No I.D.

- Anybody see you bring him in? - I knew you'd wanna keep this quiet.

Yeah, you think?

Let's get him inside.

He kind of smells.

I'll turn down the heat.

That your long term solution?

No. I need to figure out who he is.

What you need is an air freshener.

- Hey, Vic, listen,you... - You! Out of my bar!

- No, 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 party of my addiction transfer program. It's my lifeline.

OK. OK.

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.

Ms. Freemont, the dump is International Free Zone...

That cub wasn't at the dump.

I've watched this cub since he was 3 weeks old.

He has a tracking chip I put on him myself.

Hey, hey, what's going on?

Vic, tell her.

My men wouldn't go on Natural Heritage land. They shot a bear at the dump.

It's allowed.

I've tracked this cub for the last 7 months.

He was on his home range, and suddenly he's moving at 60km 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

- Vic, the woman is hysterical. - protocol.

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 80 grams of phenyl-bop-halo.

OK.

I can understand there was an unfortunate accident where foreign visitors,

maybe unaware of Natural Heritage Land boundaries...

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're 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.

That's it?

That's the penalty for killing an endangered species? Vic!

Really? You had to do that?

Hey!

You hurt my crew, you hurt me.

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'm the rock 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, you were doing great.

Armed stand off, Russian boot on 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.

Bit of an overreaction, don't you think?

The Russian I shot gets to wake up tomorrow.

My cub doesn't.

What're you gonna do with him?

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

Document the birds and animals that feed on the carcass and

then put the bones in storage.

That hide's worth something in Moscow.

They might come back for it.

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 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"

was a trank dart. No real harm done.

You're there to prevent confrontations with the internationals!

The hothead nut job has been put here by you guys!

Alison Freemont places herself, Vic.

She's an internationally respected biologist with a blog-cast 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.

Hey, you scared the crap out of me! I thought I was alone out here.

Is that so?

To answer your question, I'm not a geologist, OK? I'm an archaeologist.

Really. You're American and you're on National Heritage Land.

I'm not inclined to believe you.

Really. I care what you think because...?

Look, the name's Dan Reardon. 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.

S'posed 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 it over by boat!

Hey, Roger, since you're here, you got a minute?

I dunno, Taq, do I got a minute?

Do I got an hour? Twelve hour?

Look, I need a doctor, and you're the closest thing for a thousand miles.

What? You got the clap?

No. I got a situation, and I need discretion.

Discretion will cost you.

Everything costs me. Come on.

What, you're coming too?

Course you are.

What do you think?

Hmm, 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?

How am I supposed to know this? I am 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 the special?

Somebody airstreamed this putz, whoever he is,

which means someone's happy and someone else is probably pissed.

Till we know who's who, and what it is they want...

Well. What have we here?

So many questions.

Ramindar, you've been stationed here what, six, seven months?

Seven months and four days.

I came with the first drill rigs 4 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.

Goes with last scraps for 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!

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 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 of the boundaries.

As an indigenous Inuit person I believe he can...

Half Inuit. Only half.

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

People with a notoriously poor sense of direction.

- Sorry, Taq. No offence. - None taken.

All I'm saying is the corpse could've been found in the Free Zone.

Yeah, yeah. It could've been.

Look, the last thing the government want is public perception

that there are murderers on the loose in Borealis.

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. No I.D. - Don't know. No I.D.

Did either of you kill him?

Not to the best of 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. - OK.

For God's sake, Private, that's a human being!

Be careful.

- Sure thing, boss. - Lieutenant.

Why were you trying to hide a corpse?

We weren't. Just trying to keep it cold, lieutenant.

That's what I was gonna say.

- Is that collusion? - I dunno, is it?

May seem funny now,

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

Oh. Bad news?

Seems a senior government bureaucrat has decided I should not be detaining you.

- Oh, good then. - Wow, look at the time.

It's 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.

OK, there's some, you know, personal information on there that's not really,

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

That's a single malt from my own stock. You can't...

Sit.

This is a bad place to camp.

I've pitched tents all over the world.

I have bear repellent. Good camp habits.

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

Twelve-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?

You're not getting my bed. Tomorrow I'll take you to town.

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

You're safe inside 100 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.

You ever work?

Yes, I work all the time.

Vikings gave me 2 days off, but it's not worth going anywhere.

So, what happened to your addiction transfer?

Hog all the weightlessness?

It's not going so great. I've got 2 addictions. Cheers.

You patch things up with Bettina?

She's still pissed off.

I'm working on it.

Hey, you uh...

- You know this guy? - He's looking poorly.

- Viking? - Not one I know.

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?

I'm your man!

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. USC at Berkeley.

I turn off that barrier in the night

and you're all hers. So who's funding your research?

Polar Expetroleum? Motron?

Or maybe the Chinese are recruiting abroad now.

OK, it's true.

Polar Ex 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 Ex pays the bills.

You know, just my luck the...

the best possible result of my best-funded project ever

will be to 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.

Ok, look, I will not move from my office box, I promise you that, OK?

Carboneau's hanging in there, but Murdock's younger and faster.

There is 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.

Ooh! Murdock catches Carboneau with the knee and he goes down.

He's hurt. He's hurt.

Murdock follows up with a devastating kick to the head!

This is over. Carboneau's not mov... Oh my god, he's not moving.

Murdock follows up with a devastating kick to the head! This is over.

Good morning.

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 Road kill's a Norwegian archaeologist.

Thorvald Sigurdsson. You didn't mention he was tossed from a bird.

Yeah. 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 claims 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.

Russians? You sure about that?

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.

It's gonna be fine. Relax.

- An hour of ZipGrav coming to ya. - And a fucking drink.

And a drink.

I need to go to the Russian sector dig site. Wanna come?

No.

I could use a back up. I think Alexi might still be pissed at me.

For breaking his nose in 3 places? I can't imagine why.

- Please? - I'm not in the bodyguard business.

A favour 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.

Sealskin clothes and stuff.

And no one'll 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 that people tell.

About a thousand years ago they found a man, European of some kind,

wandering around the 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?

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 I think we have a lot in common.

Extra room, so I'll move to town for a while.

I should get my gear out of your vehicle.

Dan, have you met Lieutenant Ramindar 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. - 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.

Ever hear of a Thorvald Sigurdsson? Norwegian archaeologist?

He fell outta one of your choppers the other day.

I'm sorry the Norwegian decided to jump.

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.

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.

Certainly a dead issue from my perspective.

So your headless fella here, you 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've 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?

If I had, I wouldn't be sat here, would I?

Well, could be worse.

You could be dumped out of a helicopter on Heritage Land.

How are they taking it?

Who?

- His mates. - I don't know what you're talking about.

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

The goofs at the army base know,

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

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 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, the global environment,

for Canada's slender sovereignty claims,

and now for the tenuous rule of law.

Alison Freemont. Questions about the death

of Norwegian archaeologist Thorvald Sigurdsson will not go away.

- Your spike. Just the usual. - No problems?

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 wanna get the hell outta here.

Finish your drinks and get the fuck outta here!

Now! Stop, come on.

Come on. Easy, buddy. Stop struggling.

Stop it.

You good? You good?

OK, buddy, come on. Come on.

Someone's 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.

- 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 gotta be kidding me.

Look, are you nuts?

You don't go after the Russians alone!

You have pissed off 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 wanna 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're right in the middle of it.

Wake the hell up, OK!

- 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 ten 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.

Give me 7.

The Danes kinda trashed it, 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 wanna know where it came from,

foundry marks might tell you more.

I have a bit of 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, Ramindar, 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 have been doing some investigating myself.

In fact, I want you to look at something.

You want me to look at your stapler? I gotta go.

Not my...

Wait! I actually did have a piece of evidence. I..

Wasyl!

Okay. Here's the match I was looking for.

It was forged in the Holmgard ironworks, now the Russian city of Novgorod,

between 1000 and 1100 AD.

So it really is a Russian spike.

Amazing. - Yes and no. Holmgard was a Viking town,

settled on land that in later times 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 in a museum in Oslo where Thorvald Sigurdsson worked.

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 archaeological site, it's legitimate.

How many spikes were stolen?

Six.

Vic! Vic, you have to come right away! Come, please!

What?

- Which one next? - Anti immune RNA blocker. Yellow. Yellow!

Have you ever seen this work?

The nano beavers crave disruption in the tissue. If he can be revived, they'll do it.

- He was dead Ok. - Hold that.

- Put that there. - He's breathing.

Whoever did this thought it'd be cute to snuff him in the ZipGrav,

but 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 hanging around here.

Keep the pressure on.

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 can 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's your other boy? Hm?

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 shit hole?

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? - 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.

We 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.

Voilà!

Nice.

My mom was a soapstone carver.

Is that so? I did not know that.

Hey!

- Good 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. 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 ship's nails we discovered.

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've heard. The League of Nations

has appointed a liaison officer to Borealis.

Svetlana Virchou.

New neighbours. Good.

Yeah, I wondered when they were gonna move in.

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.

You glued this sucker 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 own peril.

He going to walk and talk again or what?

If you're lucky, he will finish dying.

If he lives, he could be a human turnip.

Thank God you're not a real doctor.

I'll spend my fee at your bar. Tell Darion to start a new chit.

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

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

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

Well, this should be interesting.

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 ten 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 field

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. 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's 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 would 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, mother boards, 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 are dead men, both of you!

Watch someone doesn't boil you in a pot.

What's going on here?

I caught them try to break in. They're going after Clive again.

This bitch is hysterical.

Watch your mouth.

You don't touch Anton. I don't care if the whore is your wife.

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

They were going to attack Clive, Bettina caught them.

Going to?

Your private here is a mind reader?

Wasyl?

They were disrespecting Bettina.

So you punched him?

Please, I'm sorry. I apologize for my private's behavior--

That is not good enough.

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

Private Demchuk's actions are inexcusable and--

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!

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! He should be apologizing to Bettina.

Gentlemen, if the issue is that the punch wasn't fair,

then make it a fair fight.

You bet. I'll fight this little garden gnome anytime.

No, no.

I can't take responsibility if your man gets injured.

We'll make them sign off. Cage fight.

It'll good for the town, people like a little distraction...

No. He's a soldier in my command.

If he injures a civilian...

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

Looks like you need lubricant.

I've got aquavit.

There are a dozen ways to tell me you're coming. Don't just show up.

- I'm old fashioned. - No, you're not. You're strategic.

Drink?

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 going to 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.

And you trust her?

More than the idiot crowd of slobbering greed heads I'm usually surrounded by.

Actually, you're surrounded by marmots, that aren't even indigenous.

All right, you've made a new friend, good for you.

And not so good for you.

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.

I told Vic you were going to be okay.

Here, come on.

Okay, so 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

phrased 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?

Vic Carboneau.

He has some kind of government protection,

otherwise I would have 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, Ramindar.

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 wanna how she plans to do it and how much it's going to cost me.

This is not about your hobbies or side deals.

L.O.N. presence in Borealis represents a serious threat to our Arctic sovereignty.

Well, 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, alright?

Volkov 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 are a true humanitarian, Taq.

- He'll hurt himself! - Somebody better do something.

Come on, buddy. It's all right, it's Vic! 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! 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 pay day.

Any idea what's actually in his system?

Blood reads clean. I don't know. Maybe...

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.

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

This is how the rig-pigs beat the screen.

Is he gonna be any calmer when he wakes up?

- Depends on how much he took. - I'll be outside.

Ghost -meth is an internationally banned substance.

Its 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? Bunch of guys want in on this.

What're you talking about?

Wasyl against the new Russian in the cage.

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

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?

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 this are...

a 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'll see how tough he is in a fair fight.

I dunno, a grain fed prairie farm boy?

Dumb as a sack of hammers but fucking tough.

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

What, are you living here now?

Clive seems to do better when I'm around.

All right.

Notining 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.

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?

Too soon to know.

Listen, do you think it's weird

Anton and Sergei tried 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.

They're looking for you everywhere. The Mongolian "awaked".

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.

A purple pill. Okay.

Can you take him back to the Chinese sector and see if you can keep him home for awhile?

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

Hello, Vic. So, just a 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. I won't even get into the book-making,

the pilfering of goods held in trust by customs.

The Danes complained to me about missing Aquavit.

- I thought you weren't going to get into it. - You think nothing can happen

to you, but you're wrong. Borealis is about to change

for the better and that is not good news for you.

Let me guess,

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 going to 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're 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.

Yellow breasted meadow lark.

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? - 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.

Even the oil's transformed vegetation and dinosaurs.

And yet you never seem to find anything.

True. 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 Sirmlik 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 going to 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:

I've been alerted that certain archeological material,

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 in Miss Teen Geneva 2029.

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.

If the Russians 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!

Can you send the body back to the family?

No.

I'll take him out to the dump for the bears.

Don't give me that fucking look.

It's called the casting out ceremony.

The Mongols, they believe their last virtuous act is to give their body to the animals.

You people don't know anything.

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

Mongols, they do what they want.

Look, he got the side-effects, 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 have been slower.

Pace is a dead man.

Profile's cooked up.

Sergei Krutinulov was kicked off the Russian army's special forces in 2038.

He went in the fight circuit in South-East Asia under the name 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's sakes. Wasyl!

Listen to me: Sergei killed Bataar

with a single blow in a fraction of a second. Is that how you want to die, huh?

Pulling up your jock strap as you step into the ring?

Someone's got to show these Russians whose country they're screwing with.

If we just roll over, what's the point? Why even put the uniform on?

There's brave and there's just plain stupid.

Which one are you going to be, Wasyl?

I'm not chickening out.

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

Look, I'm not backing down.

We're doing enough of that around here already.

It's not why I signed up.

What happened here?

- Bear broke into it last night. - In the middle of town?

Yep. You might want to 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 multicolored 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 and 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 are two ways to leave this room, you pick.

Okay. I'm glad everyone is having a nice time, screwing in my 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're 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 going to 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. - 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, alright?

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.

You think Anton would pull Sergei off if he got the 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 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.

Okay. It's okay.

I was just walking and then...

I don't know how to describe it...

It was like my brain exploding.

Tiny pieces of me flying up and spreading out until I'm so thin...

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,

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

but it feels impossible...

Seems like when you die,

not all of you gets to come back.

Who made that rule?

I got nowhere to go, Vic.

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.

You touch me and I'll stamp that beret down your throat.

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

Come inside, please.

Arctic fox, killed on natural heritage land.

There are only six breeding pairs in Scandinavia,

maybe only thirty 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 outed them on my blog.

You said things are going to be different. So what are you going to 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.

I'm not going to let that little Russian kill somebody else.

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

I know what happened, okay?

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

Who else is going to stop them?

You? Those idiots at the army base?

I don't know, but it's not going to happen like this.

Not today.

Come on. Let's go for a walk.

- Alison's taking it pretty hard. - I don't blame her.

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

Need to have a rocket while fighting the new Russian these days.

They must be pretty confident over their territorial claim.

They control the last oil, then the last water, then the last food.

It's 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?

That person would give them to me.

Is that a theoretical question or a practical one?

Not sure yet.

- 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 do you feel? - I'm ready.

- Are you? - Yeah.

He's tougher than what I first thought, but

I can handle myself too.

You think I'm afraid of him. I'm not.

I know.

So what was my mistake?

Well, when you went for the takedown...

Please, show me.

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 going to be ligament damage but you should be okay in 4 to 6 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.

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 head shots in.

I'll write a note to myself.

I'm just curious, given that he's younger,

stronger, faster

and possibly more skilled than you

what makes you think you're going to survive this fight?

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.

What do you want?

If all the good men get killed around here,

only the bad idiots are left. What's going to happen to me?

Another vote of confidence.

You should be in bed, you have to sleep.

Come. Come on, Vic!

- No, no. - No, it's not for sex, you dumbass.

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.

And 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?

Whatever...

that package you wanted delivered.

We'll talk after the fight.

Sure, okay, it's just that...

What?

I might be dead after the fight?

No, well... 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 Demchuk?

Yes.

Mr. Krutinulov.

You can do it, Vic. Kill this idiot!

Go for his head.

Get him, Vic.

Come on, Vic! Pound him!

Come on, Vic! Get him!

Come on, Vic! Come on!

Come on, Vic! Get him!

Vic!

It doesn't end like this.

Come on, Vic! Come on, Vic!

Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic!

Vic! Vic!

Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic!

Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic!

Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic! Vic!

Vic! Watch out!

Open the gate.

You're never going to get those spikes.

Synch & corrections by Vegemite. Resync by lweka