All language subtitles for Underbelly s07e03 All At Sea.eng

He's a steward on the Dutch freighter.

Everybody calls him Chinese Jack.

To our continued investment in Canabis Vetivia.

Success!!

I want you to do a navigation course.

When we get a decent boat, you'll be all organized.

- Me?
- I thought you liked a challenge, Peter.

Welcome to Special Investigations.

Still no lab funds here.

Nice new pair of binoculars. Cool!

No Maher and no Johnstone.

Marty Johnstone and his mates

were beginning to build an ugly empire that

would change the face of the country.

And the face of policing, as well.

The usual run of things is to wait 'till
the problem becomes the major problem,

and right now, the major problem...

is Thai product.

A man shook his head at me,

another one pointed at me...

Is the Drug Squad actually
targeting any of these people?

I told you, Majors on our sight.

- These others...
- Belong there!

Marty Johnstone, too.

They're all connected.

The best way to deal with any threat against Carole

is to start putting these bastards away.

I'm bulletproof, mate. Fuckin' bulletproof.

Terry Clark's arrest threw
a temporary scare into the cast.

...under arrest.

But when he jumped bail to Australia,

it only confirmed the view that

the police were a toothless tiger.

For the syndicate, it was business as usual.

Bye, harbor, go ????.

Bye, bye, strikes again.

Two bales lost.

At least the boat got away.

And two bales out of thirty aren't a bad number, mate.

What us business types call...acceptable attrition.

We're not going to have to live with it for
much longer, anyway. Are we, Captain Miller?

Four hundred and sixty eight thousand sticks,

Bloody hell!

Out of Thailand. Done deal.
Just have to pay the deposit.

Sonia, I want a chambers, my love.

Could you...burn those nights?

Why not just five hundred thousand sticks?

Well, let's not be greedy.

Middle of last week, recall, it was six thou.

That's just the way the bowels work
out, the number we can fit in the boat.

Plus, forty thou was what I
used to make Terry in on sub.

Screw Terry.

Just illustrating for structure.

He still gets a count...reduced, of course.

Sad, I know.

But at fifty percent purchase per stick,

with waste margin to Terry.

We're only looking at...

let's see...

a couple of mil in our pockets, off the cost.

Two mil?

That's bloody brilliant!

Terry can go bugger kangaroos.

Two million profit. Ante up.

We're on our way, guys.

Briga-bloody-doon!

Brigadoon!

What's with the bloody flash.

Tad bright, is it?

Well, only if you want half of
Auckland to know we're here.

Can't take evi-snaps in the dark.

Just make sure you

put everything back where you got it.

They realize we've been in here, they'll shut up shop.

Just watch the suit, Carole. We know what we're doing.

Ah, ho..ding on ding.

You wouldn't have even got the
warrant if it hadn't been for my intel.

- Why not for Clive and the boys?
- So, how come we got copies?

I only end his messes.

Returning to regular broadcast.

And Marty and Andy.

Oh, yes.

You two been keeping tabs on
Maher and Johnstone, have ya?

That'd be insubordination, wouldn't
it, Sarge? They're not on our list.

Well, you just may get the
chance to legitimize your interest.

We've even copied the information people

because it's triggered a green light.

We're putting together a joint task force with Drugs.

'Bout bloody time!

We pool our resources, start keeping
tabs on these people properly.

How did Drugs get hold of all this stuff, anyway?

- Don't ask.
- No, no, no. You ask away.

Authorized...covert surveillance...and a legit warrant.

We're not all cowboys.

You get across all this.

And pack up your desks.

We're relocating, and I want
you up to speed before the briefing.

At least the Drug Squad

and Special Investigations

were finally dancing at the same party.

We think this...

is Jimbo.

Drugs undercover operative Mariane

had drawn up a bunch of faces and spaces to watch

and it wasn't long before a
couple of them came together.

Farah Morgrett for the collective mill.

Shit!

- Hello, Jimbo.
- Don't own it!

Hope you enjoy prison food.

These people!

Seem to think they can get away with anything.

The cockier they become...

the smarter we need to be.

Told you. Was I right or was I right?

A customs gate is only a meter wide.

Of course you're gonna get caught.

But there's thousands of K's of coastline.

They can seize boats, not bloody planes.

An importation like this can destroy

hundreds of people's lives.

They'll make Terry be pissing blood, brother.

Not of ????. Alright.

See...See.

Coke'll kill you faster than a cigar will.

It's OK. It's my boy.

This one...has a street value
of half a million dollars.

Which means...

Fuckwits and bullshit castle.

Thank you. Thank you very much. Yeah, me on till Thursday.

Was I right or was I right?

Pot...then speed...then coke and heroin.

While they're looking at "H", they're
not looking for us. It's beautiful.

Marty...this is my crew for the trip,

Gaylon and Mark.

- Mr. Johnstone.
- Marty. Rhymes with party.

Help yourselves to whatever you like, lads.

See Chesterfield on the goggle box?

All puffed up.

- King of Kudos.
- Yeah, it should have been our bust, Ding.

We could have been at that media release

if you didn't piss command off all the time.

No, no, no. You see, Clive, this way

we remain anonymous.

Ah, my grandma,

what a tiny profile you have.

All the better to nab you with, my dear.

Very fucking funny.

I should get home. I said one drink.

???? is one drink.

I'm up for another handle.

Looks like you could get lucky.

- Sarah's got something on your mate, Andy Maher.
- What?

Ah, he's been paying a couple of
visits to, ah, Tommy Harry Lewis.

The guy's on fire at the magazine.

Seeing them organizing a couple of packages.

I heard them talking on the stairs about Matry.

- Personal use?
- If he uses fifty times a day.

- Well, where's those packages.
- Hadn't noticed.

You saw them?

And we have it on good authority
he keeps them in the toilet system.

How could you know.

Now, all we have to do, is

bring him where there's a stash and we've got him.

Give me a piece of this one.

Carole, we don't need you back on Maher's radar.

Max doesn't need you on the front line, in any case.

I don't need you telling me
what I can and cannot do, Dink.

I'm not afraid of these bastards.
They're all puss and wimps.

Enjoy your evening.

That's it?

What'd you want? Chocolates?

You said you had some stuff.

Got gear?

I don't slam.

I just snort.

Like it or lump it.

Maher, we think, is a minnow,

the one who's swiming with some of these bigger fish.

Now, we get him on possess for the purpose of supply,

we can squeeze him for information.

That means a quiet, no fuss, shakedown

we throw him back in the pond. Questions?

Who's on the bust?

Farah's still doing the secretarial
impersonation for us.

And you, Goose and Clive are still on marina rotation.

Other assignments, as per. So, who's left?

Gentlemen.

Day after tomorrow, you meet him at the airport.

Keep a low profile. Bangkok flight.

Ah, right. So, he's Indo-Asian, is he?

- Bangkok's in Thailand, Mick.
- Ah, right.

That's..."Peak", you said.

"Piak". With an "i", no "e".

Ah...cool..."Piak".

I'll make up a big sign.

A little one. Low profile, remember?

Yeah, righter.

- Call for Andy.
- I'll take it.

Johnstone, esquire.

Police!

Sit down and shut up! This is a search warrant.

- Move out!
- Hey!

- What're you doing?!
- Get me shirt and stay there.

What're you grinnin' about, shithead?

This is for the head's up, mate. I owe you one.

Yeah, right.

Here's you one.

No gobbles today?

You need another.

Thanks for the floorshow, heh?

A man come in to do his bit of business
and I get into fame and frivolity.

OK, OK. It's enough. Stop.

Just getting into my stride.

Andy, look at me.

Fuckin' look at me.

If I hadn't got a tip and warned you, you'd
be doing time for supply right now,

and the best money's got.

It was personal use.

Yeah, after I keep telling you to stay away from it.

Heroin's Terry's business.

We're right on the edge of the big time, now, Andy.

Everyone else's gonna be paying us.

So, you want to be one of Terry's
customers shoving smack up your nose,

or you want to be a king of the world?

Sorry. OK? I'm sorry.

I know.

Blood under the bridge.

We're best mates. Always will be. Right?

Come on, let's get you cleaned up.

But you remember this, OK?

What? The beatin'

- or you givin' me a heads-up?
- Try both.

Fuck you.

Gary.

I want a word.

I don't like Andy fuckin' Maher.

So, how come he gets a head's
up about a bust on his place?

And you don't tell me about a five
hundred grand hit on Terry Clark's couriers.

Me and those guys have had a long association.

I have no arrangement with you and Terry bloody Clark.

Apart from this.

So, if you want to keep this shit coming...

you decide where your loyalties lie, heh?

- A bad apple?
- In this barrel here.

We know Maher had that gear, for a fact.

So, somebody warned him.

- Oh, wow.
- Well, it wasn't Peter bloody Pan.

Eyes and ears, guys, and cards close to Jesus.

- No shit!
- Yeah.

Oh, and 8.

How'd your job at the marina go?

You mean, how did my David and
Goose farting in the car go?

He can't help it.

Yes, he can. He saves them.

Ah, looks like they're getting ready for another trip.

What with...cartons of food being loaded.

We still got some photos.

Couple of young guys doing the heavy work.

Back on it, tomorrow.

I'll take a clothespin.

And, kerching!

Drug run under way.

Bon Voyage.

This...

is all done pride...

tight buds...

top quality.

This...is what you're paying for. Yes?

No, thank you. Teetotal.

Look like you could use some alcohol yourself.

Perhaps the rubbing kind.

Have you got any other observations to make.

Just check the weight, Andy.

Looks OK.

Good.

As guaranteed. Top quality.

You got the deposit?

Four hundred and sixty eight thousand
sticks is too many to count, Mr. Piak.

I hope you're not going to insult me...

- by counting the money.
- He better not.

Nice doing business.

That's the way...mutual trust.

Our boat's already on route.

I'll be over to pay the balance and take delivery.

No mutual trust with your pickup crew, then?

It's not an issue.

We're bursting with mutual trust.

We just enjoy travel,

see the world, make new friends,

visit old one.

Absolutely.

Like Chinese Jack. You know Chinese Jack, right?

How you say...passing acquaintance.

I'll be grateful if you keep it that way...passing.

We'll still be using him to
supply our regular runs, but...

he might not be too happy if he hears
we're organizing a separate line of supply,

want to be tardy with us or with the
supplier. Know what I mean?

Mum's the word.

Upper Sir Bali.

Frick.

Thank you, Lisa.

Sure, can I get a coffee or...

No, thank you, sweetie.

I heard you had some trouble from the cops.

Sit down, shut up!

This is a search warrant.

They turned me over.

I'm wondering how they found out I had a stash.

Well, don't look at me.

You need resupply? Harry can...

I'm not here for that.

I'm here for Marty...

where to go.

Brigadoon's away.

Yeah, mate.

We need to get it for distribution.

The Wilsons, Terry's old team...

Terry gettin' a cut?

Some.

But Terry Clark's frying bigger
fish in Oz, now isn't he?

Brigadoon's our show.

Can I play Tommy Albright.

Brigadoon?

The musical.

Get us coffee, heh, Harry.

How's it goin' on the boat?

Fine. Which is why we need to talk about distribution.

So, how many sticks, again?

Four hundred and sixty eight thousand.

But, even aside from the
unnoticed tracking of the boat,

things weren't going as well as Andy made out.

Half the food went bloody rotten in the
heat, should have packed more canned stuff.

So, where the hell are you, you're phoning me?

Noumea.

He hitched on one of these premo tasters,

you know, navigating and then me and Mark got seasick.

So, you've got pills, haven't ya?

Piss off!

Hey, it's not my fault you and
your brother appear wimps.

No, no, man. Let me size up. Look, it gets worse.

What?

For which, we need to go on land for a couple of days,

you know, for fresh supplies.

And then he gets a little bit pissed
and he's picked up for shoplifting.

He's fuckin' what?!

- What the hell's going on?
- Shoplifting?!

Would you go away?! In French.

Look, it was sort of a deal, OK. Like Mike...

gets a few in him, and...

OK, OK. I don't want to know.

Here's what you do.

You organize a bribe, bail, whatever it takes,

and then you skip. You understand?

Yeah, yeah. I've got it, man.

And whatever it costs comes
out of your deal, ship broker's fee.

Shoplifting! Are they imbeciles?

Courtesy call from Noumea.

New Zealand registered boat.

We're gonna have to have a chat,
get them to turn a blind eye.

We want these idiots to bring their drugs home,

not go down on some piddling shoplifting charge.

Give me Chesterfield.

Command can talk to foreign affairs,
the minister can talk to New Caledonia.

Shoplifting? Good God!

Do it.

Give him some more, you idiot!

I think that means we can go.

And here's where your navigatin'
and never get Captain off!

Or just dust off the cornflakes from the packet!

No wonder they had to make landfall.

What'd they steal?

Two-day condom.

No, wankers don't need condoms.

Sailors in port do. Idiots!

No, no, no, they still use it as a free pass on...

They even could have saved the Consulate General.

Oops, they've taken out Drevel and June.

Hey! Hey! We should get that lucky.

Yeah, but Andy and Marty's luck was about to change,

in the long term, anyway.

Sharon, what can I do for you?

I'm not exactly sure, Mr. Booth.

- My boyfriend works here and...
- Yeah.

Well, I'm glad you listened to
him and came in for a chat.

So...

You were telling him about some...police operation.

I'm not sure what's going on.
The thing is, I'm a bit scared.

The place where I work,

they can't seem to pay their bills but
creditors keep showing up and I...

think the cops are watching it.

A surveillance operation?

It's been going on for months.

This woman's opened up an office downstairs. She's...

really interested in everyone who comes in.

And where is it you work with them.

"Mariane", the magazine.

So, why would the police be
interested in a woman's magazine?

Well, some of the people who come in...are scary.

And they seem to have lots of money.

Three weeks late arriving,

they call themselves sailors.

Could have been worse. At least they made it.

You, ah...

sure we can't tell 'em weight is up.

Just wear fifty grand heavy around the middle.

It's a bloody none.

Thailand's overrated, anyway.

How we supposed to track this operation

if they won't even stump up
for one person to get on the plane.

At least we got some nice pictures.

The taxi's off your check.

OK.

Forty bales.

You want to see them being processed?

It'd be...well...interesting.

Bring the van.

Air conditioned.

Soon as you gentlemen are ready.

Welcome to Thailand!

David!

What's this I hear about a
mole in the joint task force?

Just a theory at the moment. Ears and eyes open.

There's another here on the cuspid now, too. A reporter.

I'm think you might know him.

Josh?

That's the truth.

Open to interpretation...as usual.

What can we do for each other?

Something I want you to not do, actually.

You've been looking at a gentleman known as "Big Ari".

Yep.

A few disgruntled creditors
complaining, some chunky deals.

You've to back off.

Your poking about could compromise a major drug bust.

And...

Off the record?

There's a joint task force

tracking a major shipment from Asia. A boat.

So...

Say I let Big Ari's creditors winch.

When his boat arrives, I'm...
first cab off the rank, Yeah?

OK.

Not very Friendly, Jack.

I fly all the way to Singapore to see you...

You fly to see other friends...

I've got ears and eyes.

You're making deals.

You double cross me.

Jack, we're a partnership.

That's why I came to see you.

To tell you what apparently you already know.

Yes...I'm doing another deal over here.

But only so I can build my capital
base to do more business with you.

This is about bullion.

More drugs, more money.

And a chunk of it at a bit of profit margin.

For you!

For both of us.

Have I said anything about your heroin shipments to Terry?

Have I?...No.

You see, I 've got eyes, too. And ears.

What Terry's doin', he does with my blessing.

But you and I,

we've still got our own business in New Zealand. OK?

Dirty liar!

Smooth one, though.

He'll keep.

Right now, we've got other worries.

Like Terry losing half a million bucks.

Don't own it!

He's pissed off, Jack.

And our couriers are nervous after Jimbo going down.

I want to make sure that they stay calm...

don't make mistakes.

So we start feeding them valium, right?

That way, they'll be nice and relaxed

when they hit customs.

Good idea.

Do it.

Fiberglass.

Valium...sealed compartments...soiled underwear.

All great ways of putting
customs officers off the scent.

And sniffer dogs...there weren't any down under.

So these guys were on a winner.

And so was Marty.

- Cocon cop?
- Cop.

Highly commendable.

Making sure his countrymen provide premium service.

I wish our cops were this accommodatin'.

They are, almost.

You better get movin'. You'll miss your plane.

Want everything squared away on
the distribution front back home.

I'll sit on Big Ari.

Good. I'll sail back to Bata
with Pete, then I'll fly down.

Look at you.

Dressed to the nines, champagne,
and not a bead of sweat.

I'm a cucumber, mate.

A fuckin' cucumber.

A rich fuckin' cucumber.

Ahhhh.

Honey!

You shouldn't work in bed.

It's Nick's surveillance report.

Maher and Johnstone are back in the country.

Is that a worry for us?

Nah.

Oh, Maher threatened you'd pay, remember.

That is ancient history.

I pulled a ????.

Well, those kind of people don't forget.

I'm there, entirely focused on this major drug run.

If you guys are so well at ????,
why not arrest the parcel?

Because...we want them to bring the consignment back,

pass it on to their middle men,

distribute it,

and that way we know all the ???? time.

Applause!

It's taking a hell of a long time.

How is he?

Shit!

Careful love, they'll crease.

You've only been back just over a bloody week,

after being away a week longer than you said you'd be.

We didn't exactly plan on having an
engine crap out on us on the way to Bata.

You didn't have to go on the bloody boat.

You could've come back with Andy.

Calm down. Pick one for yourself.

I've got bloody malaria, Bonnie.

I'm as pissed off as you are, but I
have to go and sort this out, no choice.

You...You want me to come?

It's either that or be away from you again.

Of course I want you to come.

- I'm liking the menu.
- Oh, Marty!

Excuse me. Pete just called again.

Prepare for the heat. We'll make it a holiday.

It's your company's downhill risk department.

So, what now?

The bales are definitely safe.

Pete stored them on some atoll

but he couldn't put into port in case customs...

Is the bud over here? But...

The Lampshire's are getting treatment, but...

you aren't going to like this.

They've all been arrested for not having visas.

Fuck's sake.

How long?

I don't know, really.

A few days? For rotation, maybe a week.

I've got a job, too, you know.

I'm sorry, Max.

Working from home, and...

looking after the kids was

your idea, not mine.

We're stretched thin at work.

We were, too.

Heroin was pouring in through
massive gaps in the thin blue line,

while we were being shipped
off to the northern beaches,

to watch for a boatload of buda sticks
that seemed destined to never arrive.

Give your love to the kids, will I?

I'll stop by the school on my way.

Nope, haven't heard anything about
any survillance situation like that.

You sure it's at "Marianne"?

My source works there.

I've been digging around.

But...?

I'm beginning to think that maybe
she has a vivid imagination.

Well, I can check with my police contacts.

But, if it's a covert surveillance,

I don't imagine they're going to be very forthcoming.

Oh, come on! You're the police roundsman.

- They love you.
- Ah, yes,

Sure, they do.

I'm the darling of the force.

- Bugger off, Heck. I'll ask around.
- I owe you.

I'm getting sick of waiting.

Yeah, so's the task force.

I don't like sitting on major stories,

they've got a habit of appearing
under somebody else's byline.

Look, the boat's late, that's all.

The target's having problems.

Me, too. I've got a new gig. I'm leaving
the "Truth". Going to the "Star".

Congratulations. Moving up in the world.

Not everyone would agree with you.

I'll have to take the story with
me, if it turns out to be one.

The deal stands, Josh.

I'll keep you informed.

So, what's new? Still off the record.

They're setting up a rotation on the northern beaches.

Constant watch.

Waiting for the boat to make landfall.

Sorry. Lying in the bloody sand dunes with 'noculars.

Isn't that about hit-and-hope, mate?

Yeah, well, tell the bloody police.

Look, we need listening devices, phone taps.

Either that, or we're going to
keep getting sand in our cracks.

But the story'll come to us.

Just a matter of time.

Time's money.

And I'm happy to spend some.

And you need a tow.

Oh, do you?

Was given your name.

You have a crew for hire, right?

Prepared to move,

- for the right price.
- Which is?

To Kiwi land, via the land of Oz.

Pretty far for thirty grand.

This is turning out to be an expensive exercise.

Your boyfriend can't afford it.

Her boyfriend's cool.

So long as you throw in a slight detour

to pick up some merchandise

from a little island paradise.

What kind of merchandise?

Let's say thirty grand, then.

- Deal?
- Deal.

As long as we get under way fast.

What about the Lampshire boys, Marty?

They're still set.

That's their problem.

We weren't here to sort out any bloody visas.

Brian's towing fees,

cost me enough, bloody mate.

Miss Armond.

She's not there, is she?

Well, maybe you can say goodnight
to her tomorrow night.

Come on, let's keep going up to bed.

Yes, Max! Hello.

Max.

Sorry. I-I could...

Oh, no, no. It's fine. Umm.

Trying to get the sand out of my hair.

The water's lukewarm and it's
like being peed on by a 'possum.

I think I've got the same 'possum in my unit with a...

kidney infection.

I guess just before the night shift,
you want to go and eat somewhere.

Oh, there is somewhere?

Hey, we're detectives. We'll find them.

You OK?

Yeah.

Ummm, I'm fine. I'll just get
changed. Give me ten minutes.

OK, I'll...be next door trying to get...TV reception.

Me and Isabel and all our guys are all set to go.

All we need is the bloody drugs.

Give us a boat,

I mean, people are getting the shits.

Late one?

Just can't keep up.

I have no trouble keeping it
up little whore's ass, heh?

Look, I'm dry.

I'm getting ten calls an hour
asking when we start moving stuff.

The longer they wait, the bigger
the itch they have to scratch.

Ah, well...time marches on.

Time WAS marching on for Harry, too.

He was only two years away from
having his own itch scratched,

and big time.

Harry!

This beef-up in network will be worth the wait.

Want to check on arrangement this end.

Got to stay on top of things, mate.

We jump ship in Oz.

Pete and Cheta, they can handle the last leg.

- Where they bringin' her in?
- Panmaro.

No customs offices.

Sorry. I'm running late.

No rush.

Nice tights, we'll be working in them.

Marty and Andy are home,

Big Ari hasn't moved a muscle.

Oh, and they've spent far too much
money on all this special accommodation.

And how are these guys gonna be sailing
the boat? The boat is still travelling.

So are we...today.

The plug has officially been pulled.

Shit!

Screwed up my relationship for
this. A bloody waste of time.

They've pulled the surveillance in Auckland as well,

so our little friends are as free as birds.

He's run up on a sandbar.

Your trawler man didn't have local charts.

That's because the idiot was

suppose to make landfall at Panmaro.

We can't run the ???? bales

- in by launch?
- We could if she was working.

She broke down.

Marty's got people chewing their own arms

off to get this stuff out on the market.

We're goin' gnaw through the block
if we don't get the bales off this boat.

Mack. Take a couple of these
blokes, see if you can pinch a rowboat.

A rowboat?

Good old Terry ingenuity, mate.

Number eight war initiative.

A rowboat, my friend.

Two, preferably.

The atmosphere in the car as we headed back to Auckland

was about as chilly as the weather.

Damn fast, we go to woe.

I got a great tan.

Maybe it's just windburn.

There's movement at "Mariane".

Big Ari has just sent Gary Majors off to meet a boat.

It's berthing in Wallaray.

Do farces have happy endings?

We can try and write one.

I will brief customs.

Dink, Skinner will want you along.

Ben, Carole, Goose,

you've got another road trip.

We'll take two cars. Goose, you're with me.

We've already cleared customs. Thanks, boys.

Crop's down there.

We're not gonna find a bloody thing, are we?

You don't listen, do ya?

Stupid cow.

I'm sorry. I should have thought.

Majors. The last thing you need
is your face on his radar again.

How many times, Ben? You're not my keeper.

Why not? Who else is?

You said yourself, your marriage...

And so the cupboard was bare.

I'll give you a hundred to one on extra high quality

import products suddenly flooding the market.

Grass, that is.

Not heroin,

they fly heroin.

You two comin' for a drink?

No. I need to get home.

I have a partner I haven't seen in over a week.

Wee barns, lassie.

Come on, Benjamina.

Let's have bets. Let's put some farms
in fear for their daughters' safety.

Now I could do with a drink. Two, I bet.

Everyone think of ???? no more.

Now this operation's great white
belly is pointing skyward,

any information we have on Ari and Harry is...useless.

That was a delectable affair, after all
that work, I've been lookin' to get pissed.

Sounds like a plan.

Never know your luck.

Enjoy your night.

Your round.

- Thank you.
- Shit, mate.

Hey, Ben.

Cop that.

What?

- Who's that?
- Quiet!

What'd you think my boss is goin' say?

Max!

At movies with the kids. Bugsy
Malone. Back later. Welcome home!

Come on.

Live a bit.

Celebrate.

Even after all the added expenses

and all the delays,

Marty did very nicely, thank you.

On the street,

his import would turn over more

than three million dollars.

No wonder they're as happy as pigs in shit.

Except...

For months I sat on it.

I thought I might still have a nice,
juicy one to drop in your lap.

But, sorry, he tells me, it just fell over.

Maybe it was never a story at all.

What was the quid pro quo for you waiting?

Well, my source reckoned they had
a surveillance running on this bloke,

Aristotle. Big Ari, they call him.

I, ah, I was asking questions about his creditors.

They asked me to back off.

Promised me a bloody exclusive, too.

Bastards, heh?

A drug op that never was.

Live and learn, son.

They're quick enough to figure the bloody triumph.

But as soon as it all turns to shit...

They clam up, yeah.

Hey, Bet. You got that copy for me?

Final tidings, on the way.

Patience, Keith...patience.

And, ah, that magazine surveillance thing that I...

- "Mariane"?
- Yeah.

What was the name of the joker who ran that thing?

Aristotle something. Big Ari.

God. Josh!

I reckon you two need to talk.

About a woman's magazine?

Ah, about cops screwing up on drug ops,

hard men laughing all the way to the bank,

covert surveillances.

- Yeah?
- This could be big.

Bloody big.

So, between you both, what exactly ya got?

What they had

was the beginnings of the real story

of Mr. Asia.

King...of...the...world.

Marty?

Moderation in all things, Andy, my fellow.

Come on.

It's me.

People of New Zealand,

I give you

a whole...new...world.

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