Original subtitles

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- Go! - Police!

Police! On the ground! Your hands.

You know how to best kill a shark?

You catch him in a net.

Copy that.

The minister's calling.

Yes, Sir?

I guess you don't want me to piss myself in your car.

I won't run away. I don't have shoes.

- Clear. - Okay.

Suspect on the run!

Back door, quick!

GANGSTER KAY THE AFRICAN

Good?

Done.

Today Slovakia, Ukraine, Turkey and then the boat to the Seychelles.

The Seychelles... It's dead there.

Countries that won't extradite you can be added on one hand's fingers.

Apart from the Seychelles it's South America or South Africa.

You wanna change?

- What about Sandra? - I'll make sure they leave her alone.

- When it quiets down, she'll join you. - If I don't come to her first.

I don't wanna be on the run. I don't owe them anything. They owe me.

This isn't the right time. Wait till the dust settles.

- Who is that fag? - Mr. Martier.

Under the Commies he studied in Prague, joined the secret service.

Now he's an MP for the Seychelles Liberal Party.

- Let's go. We don't have time. - I feel like an idiot.

The suspect went to the bathroom, two of our men guarded him outside.

Standard procedure.

How come he got away? Why did you uncuff him?

Didn't resist, was high on something.

Look at the bright side. You saved the country six billion.

That alone deserves a medal.

We screwed up big time.

Fuck six billion.

What I can't get over is Čepro.

Everywhere it says: "Notorious businessman Kraviec".

What's so notorious about me?

Twelve detectives are working Operation Shark.

They're looking into two possible scenarios.

Number one, Kraviec is hiding somewhere in the country.

Number two, Kraviec has fled the country.

You need twelve people for that? I can fuckin' count that myself.

It was a totally legal transaction. Like buying a bun in a store.

But I bought 10,000 tons of the buns and that pisses them off.

I don't care how and where you nab him.

But do it fast. I want him dead or alive.

- Where are you going? - Sergey, come look at this.

Congratulations. I'm really proud of you.

- Here. - I serve my country.

Congratulations. We need more people like you.

Just serving my country.

I took care of that cop.

But do you realize what will happen once Kay crawls out of his hole?

I think you're overestimating him. He's happy he escaped jail.

Once Kay was out of the picture, Sivák had his eyes on Milota's spot.

The time couldn't have been better.

Compromising materials lost their value and Milota was broke.

If he wanted to do business, he had to borrow money.

Thanks. I'll pay you back in a week.

An average felon gets caught in a week.

Because a proper escape costs a huge amount of money.

Complications, it's something like paying a premium.

A regular passport costs one hundred crowns, fake one costs 50,000.

- Sandra. - Radim? -Baby.

You gotta be strong.

They ganged up on me. But I hold all the cards now.

They're gonna pay... Sandra?

Sandra, are you there?

Fuck.

Kay's departure was so sudden,

Sandra didn't even have a chance to tell him she was pregnant again.

It was one of the reasons why she didn't just pack up and leave.

It took only a week to get to Turkey.

And there Kay's Porsche was waiting for us, which was no coincidence.

If they knew the money in the car got me a whole port, they'd shit.

Welding cash into the chassis was my idea

but not so original.

In the 90s we trafficked heroin this way from Albania.

One of the first steps of the new government

will be negotiating the sale of Chemical Works...

Last night a notorious businessman and lobbyist

Vratislav Milota was killed. The police refuse to comment,

but everything points to it being a contract killing.

- Hi, guys. - Hey. Wanna go in?

The shots came from the terrace of the house over there.

No security cameras, no witnesses, nothing.

Everything was perfectly planned and covered.

- What about the gun? - Nothing. He was a pro.

- It'll be hard to get a lead. - It will be.

There are thousands of reasons why someone would want Milota dead.

I know at least one.

Here's proof that Milota and Kay had a stake in Čepro.

It all points to a double-cross. So he took revenge.

That's all you found?

That's strange.

Milota was obsessed with collecting damaging evidence,

and all we find is this?

I'm shitting in my own backyard but this is not Kay's job.

Deutsch.

Man, what's going on there?

Prime Minister Klein stated that the police found

a connection between Milota's murder and Kraviec's escape.

There are many questions surrounding Milota's murder

but considering that he was...

- Hello? - Radim Kraviec, the Seychelles.

Enjoy the January cold because soon you'll be burning there.

How dare you, you bastard.

You're done, you hear me? I'll destroy you, you bastard.

Hello? You there?

Fuck.

- Are you calm now? - This is so unbecoming.

Are you trying to blackmail me?

Try to see it from another side. I still know things about you

which could take you down in an hour. So...

You fix it with Čepro now.

- You're out of your mind. - You have two weeks.

In case you can't get a job after that, I will need a gardener here.

Kay needed that shouting match so badly.

He missed the excitement. This vacation was punishing to him.

His typical day looked like this:

He started the day with a few drinks before he even left the house,

then had more drinks on the beach,

a hearty lunch, more drinks again,

and by evening he was so drunk that any nonsense would upset him.

Fuck!

Fuck this. Jacky?

Where can I buy different toilet paper around here?

I want something better.

- What are you doing here? - Stop screaming. We need to talk.

I want to help you. Do you know what your husband is wound up in?

- Financial scams... - No! Murders.

Some of those people you knew personally.

Detective Hakl, that actor and maybe Javorský. Should I go on?

You don't know what you got into. You can't trust anyone or anything.

A few bad steps and you're stuck there for good, never coming back.

If we help each other

I can make sure that you won't exist anymore for some people.

Think about it.

And then one boring day, Kay sobered up.

Dardan, get up, damn it. Let's get to work.

Come on.

This country is hell. I should have picked fuckin' Argentina.

We were this close.

Look at us now, two fuckin' beach bums.

Stop here.

It looked like he needed to get a drink again,

but he was doing serious market research.

Come here.

What do you see?

- Toilet paper. - Shitty selection.

What shitty selection? It's just toilet paper.

Go get Sandra. I want to have her under my control.

I want her to give birth here.

The cops left Sandra alone.

Gave her her passport back, she could go anywhere.

But she didn't want to so it was my job to bring her to the Seychelles.

It's time.

I'm not going anywhere. I've changed my mind.

Come on.

You think it's that simple?

Think.

What happened to Javorský? I want the truth.

You can't believe everything cops tell you.

They promised you witness protection, eh?

Javorský was a rat.

A police snitch.

He thought he could save his neck from jail.

- Did Radim have him killed? - I don't know who had him killed.

But one thing I know for sure. They promised him witness protection.

The same as you.

I knew that my old buddy Lánský had something to do with it.

And it was also clear that sooner or later I'd hear from him.

Is it really worth it?

Another guy'd leave it alone, but you bang your head against the wall.

- Why? - I was a boy scout.

- Are you sure you want to do it? - I am.

You know what's gonna happen?

- We'll all go down. - So let's shut it down then.

Hello. For those who don't know me, my name is Lánský.

The idiot who turned down a bribe of 3 million

when Kraviec started his all-star career as public enemy number one.

Hakl and I had lots of stuff on him, hoping to put him where he belongs.

But he kept running away, until he disappeared for good.

The question is: Is it really possible? The answer is: Yes.

- We went after the wrong person. - Hold on,

are you saying that Kraviec isn't a crook?

No, but if we from the start had gone after the people

who made all this possible, we wouldn't be where we are now.

- Can you be more specific? - Of course.

Radim Kraviec aka Kay.

The murdered mobster Vratislav Milota and his successor Josef Sivák.

What do those three have in common? A strategic share in Čepro.

Who owns Čepro, controls the fuel market.

Such a plan can't work without government protection.

- So he comes into the picture. - You can't be serious.

I can provide evidence to support the following conspiracy:

Kraviec sponsored Klein's election campaign

in exchange for a share in Čepro. Milota was in charge.

When Kraviec disappeared, Milota became a burden

so he was eliminated by this man following this man's orders.

If we want to bring down organized crime

and solve Milota's murder, we must get to the top of the iceberg.

The information is an hour old.

I don't think it's a good move, it will only attract attention.

The same man is about to reopen old Kraviec's murder case.

He thinks Kay will talk. And it won't be good for you.

So far everything is in the house and it will stay that way.

Sir, when will you deliver on your promise to fight corruption?

- Hi. - You have two bad habits.

Always late and not locking up. The second one came in handy now.

I'm sorry, love, this was an emergency, I'll explain it later.

- I'm freezing. Why didn't you call? - I know.

Shit, my cell. I'll be right back.

No! Nela! No!

No! Fuck! Nela!

No! No! Fuck!

Nela!

When I told you we'd all go down you didn't believe me.

I could have ordered you to stop back then but I didn't do it.

You started something, so finish it.

Or it was all for nothing.

I need people like you. Incorruptible.

What's the point of all this?

I won't preach about morality, that we're doing it for our kids.

I think you've already lost enough.

Don't you feel like taking revenge?

The family was complete. Kay could now get down to work.

- What is it? - A market niche.

I worried he was losing his mind. He was in an honest business.

Tons of toilet paper went like hotcakes.

But there was a snag in it. The Seychelles rupee.

To exchange it you needed a foreign exchange account.

And that wasn't easy to get in the Seychelles.

The Seychelles were always a kind of a transit point for pirates.

When in the mid 18th century the French built a colony here

and brought slaves, the les Anglais' eyes were opened

and they seized the Seychelles during the Guerres Napoleoniennes. Alors...

Mr. Polanecký implied what you're interested in.

I'm a victim of the regime. The target of a political conspiracy.

Only in my case patriotism is replaced by a belief in free trade.

- There is nothing else behind it. - Okay, what's your offer?

It's all about business.

As you know it's really hard for a foreigner to set up a business here.

If you help me get my citizenship you will not only prevent

my being extradited back to the Czech Republic but also save me money.

What's your offer?

I'm a billionaire, so the question is not what but how much...

The party in power has its lowest ever approval rating.

This is my offer: I help you win the election

and I want a little something in return.

As soon as I get my citizenship,

I want to join the Seychelles diplomatic services.

Two million euros would certainly boost the campaign.

Only two million? You should have said so earlier, I left it in my car.

I'm fully at your disposal.

Thank you.

And I hope you feel at home here on the Seychelles.

Yup, just that toilet paper.

It was typical Kay.

Piles of rupees were used to bribe the state administration.

That's what you gotta do first so they leave you alone.

And when everyone is greased, you can move to the next base.

I don't give a fuck about officials. Red, blue, white, they're all jerks.

But if you lend them a hand, the journalists will notice

and start poking in it like it's dinosaur dung.

Kay knew what he was talking about.

For the local banana journalists he started to be a hot topic -

a runaway billionaire and a fading politician are in cahoots.

Why was he willing to do all this? To get Seychelles citizenship.

The first step towards getting a diplomatic passport.

- Klein here. -How long must I wait? - You can forget about Čepro.

- I'm serious about the gardener job. - And I'm serious about Čepro.

You can forget it. And don't call me again. Bye.

- What's up, baby? - Nothing. I'm just not in the mood.

I'm sorry.

Fuckin' woman. She's totally changed.

Doesn't want to sleep with me. Is there someone else?

Man, you're out of your mind. She's eight months pregnant.

Oh, that'll be it.

You oversee it yourself. To make sure every detail fits.

Kay won't come to us.

But we can get our people to him. Let's use his power against him.

OPERATION GARDENER

Dardan, I'm so happy! Here's to Kevin Kraviec.

To Kevin.

- Was it enough? - Yes.

Dude, she's Czech.

I can tell by her ass, only Czech girls have asses like this.

She's too young.

Dardan, let me tell you something.

Today we're gonna get laid.

It wasn't like that at all. I didn't have to run away.

I simply left like any other respectable citizen.

And you know why? Those fuckin' cops were checking out my shark.

Idiots! He fucked them over.

You have my respect, Mr. Kraviec. You know where I can find a job?

- What can you do? - Everything.

You can be my gardener. It's not a problem.

- Really? - Sure, we have a garden.

Let me show it to you, come on. We have a beautiful garden...

Holy shit. He's the man.

Kay was exuding testosterone left and right.

He acted like a total idiot.

It was clear that this new encounter would turn out to be a disaster.

He's just very busy.

The toilet paper business, elections, campaigns.

Say whatever you want. Getting his child at the birth clinic is a must.

Hello.

This is Gábina and the guy by the pool is her boyfriend.

Babe, where's my drink? You're already here?

Hi. Let me see. Hello, Kevin.

Gábina, come check out my boy.

He's nice. Hi.

He's beautiful. Look at him. Nice, eh?

- What are you doing? - Packing up. I'm going home.

You're not, you hear me?

Who do you think I am?

Some old fart who can't get it up?

That you can fuck me only when you feel like it?

You're wrong, baby. This is all your fault.

Please let me go.

You belong to me. You have my child, only I decide where you'll be.

And your place is in my kitchen.

This is when my fears came true. Kay's lost his mind.

Instead of giving her a chance, he cut her off. His ego was hurt.

My situation wasn't much better than Sandra's.

I too belonged in his kitchen.

More and more shipping containers from Malaysia were coming,

money was piling up but it wasn't what it used to be.

It had lost its edge.

What? Watch out!

He was snorting cocaine like a vacuum cleaner.

Was moody, unpredictable, simply a psycho.

What are you doing? You stupid cow. You nuts?

See what she's doing?

Radim!

You fuckin' perv. I'll kill you.

You got away with it all and now you may do time for killing a gardener?

You wanna piss me off too? Whose side are you on?

- Tell him. - Shut up!

Tell me what? Who the fuck are you? Who are you?

Secret Service.

It's fuckin' Klein.

Get rid of them.

Maybe you should know something.

Shut up. Faster.

What is Kay gonna do now?

Send that bill of exchange for 60 million, eh?

- Go! - Think.

- Isn't it all kind of fishy? - You're fishy.

Don't you get it? You're part of the plan.

On your knees!

Does the name Lánský sound familiar? You snitched on Kay when he did time.

I don't believe you. It's not possible.

- You're bluffing. - It's not Klein.

It's Lánský.

I guess he won't leave you alone.

Part of the task was to discredit Kay so he'd be deported.

Only one person could help us do it and he proved himself once before.

We knew that exposing two agents would lead to one thing only.

Kay'd want to take it out on the prime minister.

On the one person who drove him all the way here.

On the one person to whom he gave 60 million and got nothing in return.

Hello, come with me.

Kay went about it in style, inviting Czech journalists.

- You'll sit here... - Hello.

Can you hear me? Can we start?

- Let's do it then. - Hello, my name is Radim Kraviec.

I can see Mr. Prime Minister claiming he's never met me before

or met me only once when I busted into his office

and begged him to accept millions

for his election campaign because I'm a big fan of his politics.

He may also say that he was forced to take the money

and this bill for 60 million was signed by some underling

who doesn't work for him anymore. I can see all that.

Sir, the journalists are waiting.

No matter how absurd all these accusations are

and it is most definitely some kind of insane conspiracy,

I realize these problems are incompatible

with holding the office of prime minister of the Czech Republic

therefore I am resigning from the office.

Dardan, you know what happened? I brought down the government.

Give me some whisky.

You know what that means? New people will come and be in our hands again.

And we'll finish that business with Čepro.

He took down one government and was building the next one.

It looked like in two months he'd be walking down Wenceslas.

But Kay went too far.

The Seychelles are a country the size of a large living room

with a miniature industry.

So it happened that Kay's toilet paper coming here every week

from Malaysia drove the state-owned factories out of business.

Fuck them. They blame me for their economic decline.

What about the free market? Is it my fault

they can't produce toilet paper worth wiping your ass with?

Kay approached this whole affair his way.

In public he looked like an angel, a victim of an absurd conspiracy.

- Among us he behaved like a jerk. - I'm sick of this vacation.

It takes ten minutes to get from one end of the island to the other.

- Bullshit! That's B.S., right? - It is.

Kay doesn't drive under two hundred an hour, so it's only four minutes.

Sandra, how do you do it?

Fine, getting used to it. I get up three times a night.

But Kevin is so cute. Just like his daddy.

We're out of drinks.

This D'Artagnan here, or what's his name...

What does he do for you anyway? Apart from ordering drinks.

D'Artagnan is my valet.

Doesn't take much for me to hit him.

But I had other things on my mind.

What else could you ask for? Are you gonna go back home at all?

It's up to Radim.

It's okay at home now that I took down the government.

- You saying that it was you... - Of course.

Where's my fuckin' drink?

Only an idiot would dig up a grave in a place full of tourists.

What is it?

A safeguard in case you don't want to cooperate.

Glimmers of your glorious career working for the police.

I think at that time Kay was painting the walls of the cell.

I wonder what he'd say.

I'm listening.

Tomorrow the local paper will have an article on government corruption.

How come it got out so fast? It took a year and a half at home.

Here it took only six months and we have the whole system in our pocket.

Fuck.

Then it's your turn. Kay has unregistered guns at home.

All I need you to do is mark on the floor plan where he keeps them.

- Is that all? - Just the beginning.

When Kay leaves the house for a few hours, you let me know.

We have a problem.

- What kind of problem? Cops? - They found guns.

The only option is South Africa.

I'll get you a passport this afternoon.

The ship will wait in the harbor at the south end of the island.

Why is the secret service arranging his escape?

The Seychelles would never extradite him.

In South Africa he hasn't corrupted the police yet

so he'll leave the boat and go straight to jail.

What about me?

You enjoy your life. Gangsters die prematurely.

That was it. The Seychelles industry could feel relieved.

It was naive to think it was over.

Nobody knew Kay better than I.

I knew he'd play till his last breath.

Extraditing an international felon is a long game.

It can take months. In Kay's case it took six months.

When the formalities were done, all we needed to do was go pick him up.

Igor Tichý. Czech Consulate.

Can I see your badge?

- How was your flight? - What are the complications?

I have bad news, Mr. Lánský. The S.A.R. won't extradite Kraviec.

- You can't be serious. - Looks like he'll be granted asylum.

He'll have political refugee status.

Cyril Balbeek aka Uncle Cyril.

Nowadays the boss of the Johannesburg underbelly.

John Greengrass. Born in Cyprus, his mother is Czech.

All bad things combined, that's him. An alcoholic, bully,

junkie, and most of all a good friend of Uncle Cyril.

From time to time he does some work for him.

For the last one he did two years in the Boksburg Correctional Facility.

- Okay, what about it? - Kraviec is in Boksburg.

And the well paid lawyers took care of the rest.

- This is what I fuckin' needed. - Let's get you the bodyguards first.

In Africa things don't work like in Europe.

If you have money, you must cover your ass, or get knifed in the back.

I don't care about myself. It's my family. I want them here asap.

- Of course, done. - I feel Africa is my kind of place.

In a few days the money arrives and we'll crank it up big time.

- Where to now? - Where?

I've been in jail for six months. I wanna fuck. Find a whorehouse.

- Fuckin' go. - All right, boss.

One year of work is wasted.

Everything's ruined.

Luckily I knew that Kay had no cash in Africa.

And that sooner or later someone would be willing

to take his money across the ocean.

Leave us alone.

You thought I was done with you? I wanna know what Kay is up to.

How should I know? I didn't see him...

Don't try that on me. Or we will do it another way.

Kay has all of Africa wrapped around his finger.

They see him as a big boss and a billionaire, how come?

It's typical Kay. If he goes around acting like a billionaire

- you can bet he's broke. - Why are you here?

Good old times, eh?

Milota was like a brother to me.

It's a terrible tragedy.

Who're those politicians? Where is it all headed?

- Milota, Kay... - Talking about Kay,

life down there is expensive.

He wants his money back.

Bullshit.

And he wants a luxury car too.

Are you trying to piss me off?

You can smuggle the money the same way you smuggle drugs.

It'll be three million euros.

Kay wants to invest it. Into the army.

Are you serious?

- That's what he said. - Okay.

You'll do exactly what he told you. Every dot.

Get up. Let's go.

I did what he asked me to. Then off to Johannesburg.

It's a hell town. Palermo's nothing compared to it.

If you wanted to live in a safe place,

you had to pass through ten gates, something like Alcatraz.

But for obvious reasons Kay liked it. It was only for the chosen ones.

It's high-class.

Celebrities, businessmen, gangsters, all in one place.

That bitch was so fuckin' nervous the entire time.

She was scared we'd ask who lived here before.

She was so happy, she wet herself.

Don't forget you're my wife.

So pack up and come here. I'm serious.

- Why, you don't love me. - You have my son.

You remembered you have a son. You know it was his birthday?

Dardan, how can I make her come here?

- You must talk to her. - Me?

- She's your wife. - So what. Just bring her here.

I'm not going anywhere. I'm in the air more than on the ground.

Just go get her. Period. You wanna piss me off too?

The whole thing with Sandra was that Kay needed to start some business

and like any proper mobster, he couldn't put it under his name.

Their marriage was frayed around the edges,

but she was the only person he could really trust.

Eventually he promised her that she could live in another city.

Let's take a picture in front of the house.

Everybody line up here.

Make sure the house is in it, okay? Come on, everybody.

Sandra, make him stop crying. It's a family picture.

Come here. Now...

Stop crying.

Do something to make him stop...

Why so much fuss about one stupid pawn shop?

Buy, sell, make a fast buck.

In Africa you trip over diamonds and gold everywhere you go.

So why turn your back on it? As soon as some hot stuff turned up,

it was doomed to end up in Kay's pocket.

And it didn't cost him a penny.

All he needed was some time to make the fakes.

When a week later the sucker came back,

the diamonds were switched using some easy trick.

Of course then he'd find out that he was duped

but there was nothing he could do.

There are no claims with Kay.

All these little scams were to keep him entertained,

reminding him of the good old times in Ostrava.

The real reason was the cops. It's always the same with them.

First they come to sweep the place,

and when they see that you know the drill,

they start to bring you the confiscated contraband.

Kay paid them more than the competition.

And soon half of the Joburg's police force would come to him.

The ground was prepared.

But he couldn't start his business fighting pirates without cash.

We did it the good old way.

We used our German buddy and sent the money in a luxury car.

Waldo was right in the game.

In Germany business is declining, Africa'll get him back in the game.

I'm telling you, if this works, I want to do it big time.

- Do what? Smuggling cash? - Fuck cash. Heroin.

But this time the shipment was under surveillance.

The storm clouds were gathering over Africa.

- It's 3 million euros. - Great, that's good news.

But it could be a major shit storm.

I don't give a fuck what's gonna happen.

If there are a few thugs less.

Kay would get pissed over nothing

and now he was short 3 million.

Who else could've snatched it except the man who packed it in that car?

Kay lured him to Africa promising him a great business opportunity.

Where's my money?

Gag him, I don't wanna listen to him. Dardan, let's go.

Don't forget we're in Africa.

It could be the customs guys.

Fuck customs.

I talked to Cyril.

What about Cyril?

That fucker will take it out of his own pocket.

You hear me?

You drunk idiot, you smothered him. Fuck!

Shit!

Something's not right here.

Waldo was an idiot who wouldn't take such torture.

So what happened, Bro?

I've told you what I think.

But if this is what you wanna do,

then do it.

Shoot.

What are you waiting for?

Fuckin' do it.

Okay, stop. Sorry, Bro.

Fuck you, asshole.

Make sure he's dead before you bury him.

After getting rid of the German guy everything went south,

because Interpol was after him.

Kay trusted nobody and nothing.

Besides Cyril started pushing it.

Any other person would say, "Cyril, what'd done is done,

things have changed, I'm sorry, maybe next time."

Anyone but Kay.

That asshole really pisses me off. He thinks I don't know the time.

He didn't put a penny into it, my money's backing the whole thing.

When we're done here, let's go back to the Seychelles.

He had different plans for the army.

That man next to you is Samuel Wogwana,

a commander in the Congo revolutionary forces.

He was born in the war and is willing to die in it too.

We'll do it the African way. Overthrow the government.

We're not talking about some guerillas

but about an army of 500 men. I can get you back on the sunny side.

- What do you think? - You're out of your mind.

And all I want is a diplomatic passport.

Kay held all of the important business meetings

in one particular restaurant in the middle of Bedfordview.

Before the meeting with Cyril he had bulletproof glass installed there.

He didn't trust him.

A banana peel. That's a good one.

But isn't it true? When someone slips on a banana peel

the cops surround my house,

and journalists have something to write about.

When a kid steals chewing gum from a store, blame Kay.

If a junkie steals a car radio, Kay sent him.

Should I just let them drop their shit on my head?

If this place blows up now, who's to blame? Me.

Let's go, what are you looking at?

They say if you want to achieve something,

you must be kind of a fanatic and his fanaticism bore fruit.

Kay took over from the boss of the South African underbelly.

Kay ended up in custody, but didn't stay in very long,

since he paid for a strong legal team.

Cops were not a threat to him,

they were more like an annoying insect making his life unpleasant.

He handled the cops but he forgot about the public.

He scared folks in his neighborhood,

so real estate agencies hated him.

The price of real estate in Bedfordview,

which everyone called Deathfordview,

dropped like flies.

Consul General Tichý, Cirkel the mobster. Let's get to the point now.

I will be gone for two weeks. If something is brewing

I want Tichý to be the first to know.

Kraviec is walking on thin ice.

One more incident like this and he'll lose his fugitive status.

And that's exactly what we want. I want to be one step ahead of him.

I want to know what that wacko is having for breakfast, you hear?

You want to know ahead what the wacko is planning?

I'll tell you.

He's buying a chopper.

Not a real one, a model.

He's gonna load it with C-4

and fly it into the living room of his enemies.

As I said I want to be one step ahead of him.

The money situation started to be unbearable.

Kay was cut off from the source.

Dardan, do you know anyone who would cook for us?

- What about the Mole? - Call him.

The Mole aka Milan Genzer was hiding in some hotel on Cyprus.

The Mole? Sure. I am in. All right.

It wasn't hard to persuade him.

Once you're in deep, you'll get an itch again soon.

I'll need two large containers, make some room on the table

for flasks and other trinkets, put the phosphorus, iodine and lye here.

You won't remember more anyway. I'll write a list and you'll get it.

I arranged for it to go to Australia. They're hungry for it.

After paying the expenses I'll make 44 million a month.

Holy shit.

The meth lab was busy 24/7.

It was extra quality stuff. Really.

The only thing we had to figure out was how to get it overseas.

Greengrass came up with a solution.

An African messenger.

It looked like the deal of the century.

The only weak link was that playboy Bambi.

The shipment never made it to Australia.

And the guy fell off the face of the Earth along with 25 kilos of meth.

Where's my 44 million?

Where's my stuff?

Grab his head.

Jeez...

Dump water on him. Water!

The Pakis have it.

See.

I've met many gangsters in my life, but nobody was like Kay.

The first thing Kay had me to do here in Africa

was dig a few graves.

I picked this spot. It was ideal. In the desert.

- How are you? - Why did you want to meet?

The chips are down, Sandra.

Kay's breaking all his rules, he got into dealing drugs.

Why?

Because he's broke and hungry.

He still thinks he can get back in the game.

Kay.

If you can, leave.

Is this some kind of joke? How?

Here's your ticket back home.

That map will take Kay down.

The Paki gang stealing 25 kilos of meth

was the last straw for Kay in his fanatical escapade.

He lost his last chance to get on top again.

He had no choice, he was broke.

Once the graves were filled,

he got together a few cons, snorted two grams of coke

and like a tornado stormed into the Paki neighborhood.

Fuckin' move.

The statements about that night vary. Presumably Kay thought he was Jesus.

In a Hawaiian shirt and flip flops he walked between flying bullets.

What are you looking at? Let's go. Bastard.

What's up? Let's go. What's up?

That fuckin' doctor is gonna be here in thirty minutes, okay?

Dude, what a trip, eh? It was fast.

Fuckin' Pakis were like deer in the headlights.

Let me change it for you.

It's nothing, don't worry...

It was fast.

What? What is it?

Okay.

What? What's wrong?

Dardan, you'll be fine. Come on, don't do this to me.

Wait, wait...

Wake up, Dardan!

Fuckin' wake up. Dardan, wake up, don't do this to me.

District attorney to the suspect: I have good and bad news for you.

Which one do you want to hear first? The bad news.

There were traces of your blood on the victim's body.

And the good news?

Your cholesterol is excellent.

That's a good one.

The first thing Kay had me to do here in Africa

was dig a few graves.

I picked this spot. It was perfect. In the desert.

Your wife is going back home.

I can't guarantee her safety.

Under tight security measures, a trial

with the former Prime Minister Klein and Josef Sivák took place.

Both were suspected of leading organized crime groups,

corruption and contract killings,

including the ones of Vratislav Milota and Libor Kraviec.

The presence of the star witness Officer Lánský,

who with his girlfriend were to be the next victims, didn't bring...

- Hello? - How are you, Bro?

Hello, African Man. How are you? How's it going?

Hello? Are you there?

I am. Closer than you think.

- Are you fuckin' joking? - I am not.

I came for the 30 million you owe me.

Are you trying to scare me off from that black jail?

- You're done, my friend. - Who says I'm in South Africa?

Look outside your window. There's a surprise for you.

Looking carefully?

Go to hell, you clown.

After you, Bro.

Mommy...

Let's put you to bed. I'll show you something...

Mousy...

He can't get used to it here.

The Witness Protection Program...

You won't need it.