- Fuck! - It's not there.
It's in the kitchen where you left it.
How'd you get in?
You have a nice family.
They're fine. Alive.
Asleep.
- Are you gonna kill me? - If I was, I'd have done it
when you walked to the car this morning and been gone by the time you hit the sidewalk.
- Then why are you here? - To talk.
But, Mike, if you make me kill you, you will not go alone.
Sit.
Are you a good man, Inspector?
- I think. - And yet you've killed men.
- Yes. - I'm gonna ask you a question.
How you answer it will determine how this night ends.
How does a good man decide when to kill?
The man you've been chasing is a killer, a ghost.
Rumour has it that he works for a group known only as The Organisation.
It's so secret no one knows it exists.
It takes no sides, yet it has ties to every government.
Its sole purpose is the training and conditioning of professional killers.
These men are selected at birth -
rejects, orphans.
All of them unwanted and disposable.
They are made experts in every aspect of combat and programmed for one purpose -
to kill.
The man you have been chasing for the last three years, Inspector,
is the very best of them.
Put him there.
You shouldn't have stolen from me, brother.
Now you must pay.
Where is the document?
- Say it! - I'm sorry...
- What happened to his voice? - He made me swallow...
- What did you do to his voice? - Nothing, Ovie. Exactly as he was delivered.
Delivered?
- You didn't find him? - No. A contractor. An American.
Swallow what?
Run!
We have all heard your theories, Inspector.
This isn't a theory. This is our guy.
No motive, no forensic evidence, no witnesses. He's... he's a ghost.
- How long have you chased this "ghost"? - Three years.
Well, thank goodness you have Interpol to finance your persistence, huh?
Despite being the anus of the Third World, we are in attempt of competent police work here,
and it is our belief that Bwana Ovie was killed by his own brother.
Oh, so he choked down a pound of C4 and knocked on Ovie's door?
Probably.
General, this man truly is the best at what he does.
He is likely responsible for over one hundred deaths.
Let me show you what I mean.
This is Ovie.
And these are just the ones we know about.
Are you beginning to get the picture?
They might kill you for that.
For what you're doing to that whisky - brutalising it with ice.
Never more than two cubes. It waters down the Scotch.
I'm sorry. Aftermath of my pretentious ex-husband, I'm afraid.
No.
I'm June. And you are?
This is where you tell me your name.
Excuse me.
Africajob complete. The money has been wired to your account. Nice work.
Regrettably, the next target date has been moved up at the client's request.
And the client wishes it to be public.
I've planned something more subtle. I've made preparations.
Incumbent Russian president Mikhail Belicoff's recent political shift
is in direct conflict with our client's interests,
and threatens their control of the Russian government.
The client needs it to be public. Do you accept the new parameters?
Yes.
We appreciate you breaking normal protocol.
The specifics are being uploaded.
I, for one, will not let cowardice deter me.
Mr Belicoff? In light of your political positions,
will the hardliners continue to support your re-election?
One only needs to be...
We have a problem. There was a witness in St Petersburg.
- How reliable are your sources? - Impeccable, as always.
Interpol has arranged the pickup. Will you intercept?
- Yes. - Uploading data.
I can't be sure.
He never works again so quickly.
But the Russians say that Belicoff was grazed by a single bullet from over 4km away.
But it definitely sounds like him.
Yes, sir.
Well, what bothers me is that he missed.
Yes, sir. I know what this investigation has cost. I...
I understand. I just need a little more time.
- Sir, you need to see this. - Sorry, sir. I'm gonna have to call you back.
OK. He shoots the bodyguard to get a clean shot at Belicoff.
He splits these two civilians by inches. Keep watching.
Keep an eye on the bodyguard. See that?
Back it up. Back it up again.
- An awful lot of arterial spray for a miss. - Sir. You have a call.
- Whittier. - They found Belicoff's shooter.
- They found him? - Tip from a hotel concierge.
- Concierge where? - Grand Hotel. He recognised his picture.
A picture? Where the hell did they get a picture?
- I don't know, sir. - All right. I'm on my way.
They found him.
Contact the Russian Secret Police, tell them Interpol has jurisdiction.
They are to keep him under surveillance only. No one moves until we get there. No one!
Was the target not at the location?
The girl was there, but she was no witness. She'd never seen me before.
We will be unable to transmit payment for the Belicoff assignment
as the task was not completed.
No. He took a direct hit through the nasal cavity. I watched it myself.
Please wait. Uploading live news feed.
...so afraid of my message that cowardly violence is their only response.
That was the scene outside...
Who was the client?
Answer me! Who ordered the hit on Belicoff?
If you set me up, I will find you and I will burn that building to the ground around you.
Mike Whittier, Interpol. What's the status of my suspect?
I was told you were coming, Inspector. I am Captain Gudnayev, St Petersburg Militsiya.
Please make yourself comfortable.
- My men are almost in position. - For what?
We were informed the suspect intends to flee. My orders are...
Whoa, whoa. Orders from who? Interpol has jurisdiction here.
Militsiya's only responsible for the extraction. Gudnayev is not directing the operation, I am.
I'm Chief Agent Yuri Marklov of the FSB.
The FSB? Why the hell is the Russian secret police involved in this?
- Sir, they're going in. - Get your men out.
- You have no idea who you're dealing with. - These men are capable of handling this.
Shoot on sight.
Do not give that order!
47, it's Diana. I could be retired for contacting you directly.
The client was... Belicoff.
Your location has been compromised.
Come on.
Stay here, cover the elevator. Call me on my cell and tell me where it stops.
- Yeah? - Five dead in the lift. None of them our boy.
He's on the third floor. He must've opened the doors from inside the shaft.
Freeze!
Get down.
Get down!
Fuck!
Sir!
We had him.
- How many men did you lose? - 16 dead.
No! No, no! Wait, wait, wait, wait! Don't touch that!
- Where'd you get your fucking licence? - I need the room, Captain.
- Where does he get all this stuff? - Can you make it work?
Probably. Why?
I've been looking for you, Inspector.
I think we started off on the wrong foot.
Who informed you of the whereabouts of my guy?
I believe it's time we had a chat, you and I.
Jenkins.
Yes, sir.
This assassin...
My associates tell me you believe him to be freelance.
Your associates tell you that?
You do not believe he is connected with Central Intelligence Agency?
- Why do you ask? - No reason. Itjust seems a bit naive.
Well, it's a theory.
Yes, a theory. But a theory shared by Moscow.
In accordance with Article 1764.3 of the EU Charter,
any state matters which deal directly with intelligence
shall be the sole jurisdiction of the host country.
Ah, and the light bulb comes on. Took me a minute. Must be the jet lag.
- You're telling me to fuck off? - No, no, of course not.
You are a good man, Michael. One of Interpol's best.
But leave this intelligence work to the FSB.
And Belicoff?
I'm sorry?
There's two things wrong with this photo. One: the footage has been tampered with.
Someone inserted that civilian to cover up what actually happened.
- And the second thing? - My boy doesn't miss.
- Delivery. - You're supposed to leave this at the desk.
Mr Belicoff sent them.
Make a sound, I'll end your life. Understand?
Who else is inside?
I know you, from the street earlier today.
- You're coming with me. - I can't.
OK, OK! I'll get my coat.
- Where are you taking me? - Somewhere safe.
- Get in. - Fuck you! I'm not getting in there!
There's a dead man in there!
Get me out of this car!
Are you going to kill me?
I'm gonna ask you some questions.
Before today on the street, have you ever seen me?
- Why were you there? - My boyfriend.
- He told me to meet his driver on the corner. - Belicoff?
How, after I put a bullet through his head, was he able to give that speech this afternoon?
Then you're of no use to me.
Wait! Wait! There is something.
Doubles. Mikhail has doubles, just like Saddam Hussein.
The man I shot was not an impostor. Belicoff is dead.
Why'd you tattoo your face?
Because it's the only place I knew Belicoff wouldn't hit.
Tell me about Udre Belicoff.
Mikhail's brother?
He runs slave girls, drugs, weapons.
Both the CIA and FSB want him dead. Mikhail's been protecting him.
Get up. Get up. You're coming with me.
I can't. He'll kill me if he finds out I left the apartment.
Belicoff hired me to kill him, used you to set me up.
The dead man in the trunk was your driver.
He was gonna use it on you.
You're as good as dead without me.
Where are you going?
I'm gonna finish the job I was hired to do and find out who's behind this.
I need to talk to you.
I need coffee. Follow me.
We have three roadblocks - here, here, here.
We completely shut down international airport.
All border security has been tripled. He cannot get out of city.
- Train stations? - Temporarily closed.
- And St Petersburg Station? - No trains leave Russia from this station.
Only commuter trains headed towards interior.
What makes you think he go further into Russia?
Because I know him better than anyone.
Thanks for the coffee.
Go to the last platform and wait.
- Why? - Now.
- Jenkins, anything? - Nothing.
Stay sharp.
I don't know, sir. It seems odd for him to come here.
Trust me. This is where he'll be.
Jenkins, bench. Shaved head.
Got him, boss.
Fuck!
Jenkins.
I'm still on him, boss. Platform... number nine.
Boss?
You've gotten slow.
Tell me why.
Why is there a hit on me?
Stay here.
How about dying with a little dignity?
You think it's done? It's just beginning.
I told you to wait.
I know.
I'm sorry.
I... I know...
Freeze!
You're the one who's been tracking me.
The Russian Militsiya have got the terminal locked down.
You need a hostage, take me.
Come on.
He hasn't seen your face. He doesn't have to die.
Take me instead.
Please...
stop.
She saved your life.
He said your ribs are broken. Unlucky.
- You seem awfully calm, considering. - Your assassin is dead.
Why are you covering this up? You know that's not our killer.
I told you before, Inspector. This is no longer your affair.
Now, there are two ways we may proceed. One: my men accompany you to the hospital,
and when you and your associate can travel, they will escort you to the airport.
Then I will write a report extolling Interpol for its help.
- Medals will probably be involved. - Or?
I report your incompetence and disregard for my nation's laws to your superiors.
This will find its way to the state prosecutor in Moscow.
So how do you think we should proceed, huh?
How about...
go fuck yourself.
- I was running out of oxygen! - Don't be dramatic.
- Dramatic! - I got rid of the body!
- I've been there for hours! - I brought you breakfast.
I'd thank you if I wasn't so mad at you.
Look at me.
Back at the station, you interfered.
I'm sorry. I can't allow that.
- I swear I'll never... - Stop talking.
If you're looking for a reason not to kill me, I don't really have one.
I'm not a whore by choice.
Belicoff owns me. I'm his property.
Would you like to know how much he paid for me? 300. American.
I've tried to escape. The last time...
It is a strange thing to wish to die.
So are you?
Going to kill me?
No.
You don't want to fuck me and you don't want to kill me.
I've never felt so much indifference in my entire life.
If you ever again interfere with me like that...
I won't.
- Are we clear? - Yeah.
Eat your sandwich. I need to get some sleep.
- You know... - Nika?
- Yes? - Stop talking or I'll put you back in the trunk.
I gotta give it to you, sir. Pretty slick.
Go fuck yourself.
It was a pretty stupid idea, actually.
If we get caught, we'll be making snow cones in Siberia for the next 20 years.
Yet here we sit...
Belicoff?
Shit! Hide that thing.
We came to see Chief Agent Yuri. What's up?
He is very busy man. He asks you to go directly to the airport.
We will escort you there immediately.
OK.
It's for you.
- After all these years, I'd think you'd trust me. - Tell me what you know.
Officially, nothing.
Unofficially, it appears your employer is throwing you to the wolves.
- Why? - Belicoff's softening political stance
and his refusal to cooperate with hardliners upset a lot of people.
So they ordered the hit and replaced him.
Seems you and your friend are the only ones who know Belicoff is a double.
What's the CIA's position?
Company usually likes to be on the side of whoever wins.
Take the envelope from the girl.
Ah, Udre Belicoff, Mikhail's younger brother.
- Rumour is you'd like him to disappear. - That is the rumour.
- I'd like to help. - How's killing Udre Belicoff gonna help you?
Let me worry about that.
- What do you want for your trouble? - Small favour.
This is a small favour? I can't do this, not in your time frame.
- Keep reading. - Jesus Christ. Tell me it isn't what I think it is.
OK. It's not what you think it is.
But I'd expect the last thing you'd want is for me to be arrested with that file.
OK. I'll try.
- Thank you. - Yeah, you're welcome.
We know Udre's been planning something with a German arms dealer named Price.
The two have never met. That's your way in.
Intercept Price and you get a shot at Udre.
I'll get you his file. They're meeting in Istanbul in two days.
Good morning. Have you slept at all?
Some.
You know, you can sleep in the bed. I won't bite you.
Unless you pay me.
It's not polite to stare.
So when are you gonna tell me your name?
- Get dressed. - What for?
We're going to dinner.
We need to buy you a new dress.
You're really quite charming when you aren't killing people.
- This place looks nice. - Yeah.
Don't you think?
Wait here.
Hey! What did you do? Eat without me?
- How did you know I wouldn't take off? - I didn't. We have reservations at eight.
Jenks, how do you feel?
My pride hurts worse than my arm, sir. Any word?
The sketch is out to all Interpol substations in Europe, stations, airports, border crossings...
- What's that? - This is what I wanted to show you.
It's every appearance Belicoff has made within the last 12 months.
This is from a speech he made in London on May 7th.
And this is from some shitty political luncheon in northern Georgia.
Someone took a photo from a mobile phone.
Look at the date.
May 7th. How is that possible?
I can't be sure, but unless he's figured out how to be in two places at once...
- He has a double. - He's paranoid enough.
- It explains the arterial spray. - I hope he had health benefits.
When I was little I had this squirrel, you know, with black stripes on the back?
- Chipmunk. - Right, chipmunk. His name was Tishka.
I'm sorry, sir, but this is for another gentleman.
- Table 26? - That's right.
My mistake.
You know what table that is?
I saw the layout when we came in.
- Do you remember everything you see? - No.
- What's the soup of the day? - Lentil with sautéed onions and tomatoes.
The woman behind you, what's she wearing?
- With the red hair and the silk dress? - Yeah.
That's not a woman.
What colour underwear am I wearing?
You're not wearing any underwear.
Come with us, sir. Here we go. It'll be all right...
Nika, ask for the check.
- But I'm not done! - Then hurry.
You scratch what I said about you being charming.
Sorry, sir.
Mr Price.
Thank you for the introduction to Udre Belicoff.
Little help, please.
- What the fuck? - Let's go.
What?
Now.
Well, that was lovely.
Right up to the time you dragged me out by my hair.
Undress me.
So we are good with firearms. Not so good with ladies undergarments.
Careful. I'm not wearing any panties.
Nika, you're drunk.
And?
And this is a very bad idea.
You mean this?
Yes, that.
How about this?
Definitely that.
Then...
this must be really bad.
- The briefcase. - Mr Price!
So you took it upon yourself to change our appointment. How forward of you.
As I told your men, I was attacked earlier by some lunatic. Common sense dictated...
Common sense should have dictated you not abuse my good nature.
Sit.
I was just going over a few of my lines with some of your competitors.
Lines.
My lines. You get it?
Where was I?
He's not Price.
This is the... the Kedr 9mm compact.
It's less than two kilograms, select fire single or fully automatic.
Empty... and safe.
Or if you're looking for an assault rifle, I have the M203 with under-barrel grenade launcher.
A lot of Third World dictators got a lot of 7.62s stockpiled.
Saves them from having to buy ammo.
Everything here is available in bulk, of course.
Prices not negotiable.
Any questions, Mr Price?
Yeah.
What about the little one there?
Here. I show you. This is a Makarov.22.
A favourite of the KGB.
Particularly effective in the right hands.
But for a real target, you need to find a soft spot.
Whoa, hold up. Hey, wait.
This is not a Kedr. It's a Chinese copy.
I don't know if it's the drugs or you're usually this inept, but you're wrong about these guns.
If the gun you're holding is as cheap as this one, even if you could shoot her in the eye,
and I'm not saying you could, you wouldn't kill her.
- Why are you doing this to me? - I need you to help me with your brother.
Mikhail? Fine. Fuck him!
I do whatever you want! What the fuck do you want me to do?
Just this.
It says here that when the male penguin meets the female penguin,
he knows in the first ten seconds whether he's gonna like her or not.
- Are you listening? - I'm listening.
I read that.
These articles are full of shit.
- Why do you buy these magazines? - For the advertisements.
- What do you need luggage like this for? - That perfectly holds my sniper rifle and 245,
and a gag for irritating talkative little girls like you. You want me to stop and get it out?
I don't know. You think we have time for foreplay?
You know, when I was a little girl, my father raised grapes.
And I told him that one day I'd own my own vineyard.
It looks nice.
We need to get off the road.
Jenks.
- Is that his suitcase? How did we get that? - As a consolation prize,
Captain Gudnayev sent me our boy's stuff from the hotel in St Pete in case it might help.
- Anything? - Not much.
There is... this.
What do you make of this?
"Trust unto God and He shall direct your path." It's...
That's Psalms. I never figured our boy as the religious type.
That's strange.
Nika...
I have to go.
So much for happy endings.
I don't want you to do this.
Belicoff needs to die.
I don't care about that. Not any more.
As long as he is alive, they will never stop looking for you.
Take this.
At the next station, get off the train as soon as it stops. Move with the crowd.
But I don't even know your name.
The place I was raised, they didn't give us names. They gave us numbers.
Mine was 47.
Well, that explains a lot.
- How will I find you? - Don't worry. I'll find you.
What are you going to do?
What I do.
You're drunk!
You don't want to drink with your new president, Tovarishch?
We are celebrating, yes?
All the evidence is erased.
Mikhail Belicoff.
And his pathetic brother Udre.
Now I'm the one and only, and the one man I have asked you to kill -
the only one who can expose us - is the one man not in this room!
So... tell me, Tovarishch,
what exactly have you done to find him?
It seems if we wait long enough, he will find you.
Us, Tovarishch Yuri. He will find us.
The Organisation has sent in their best operatives.
I know. Don't let your incompetence hinder them. We won't have this conversation again.
Belicoff's brother was found dead in Istanbul. They're waiting for the body in Moscow.
- Heads up. - Michael, how's things going?
Belicoff's brother has been found murdered. It's our guy. He's setting Belicoff up.
We're getting pressure from the ministry and the EU to drop this investigation.
- The Russians will confirm... - They're the ones leading the EU on this.
They deny your ghost exists
and filed papers with the minister's office claiming you've overstepped your authority.
Who did?
The FSB. Specifically Chief Agent Yuri Marklov. I need you to stop!
No, you don't understand. The FSB is covering this up.
He killed Belicoff's brother. Now, why? Unless...
...Mikhail Belicoff will attend funeral services tomorrow morning...
The funeral. He's trying to take Belicoff at Udre's funeral.
This generator produces over 3,000 amps.
Much more than is necessary, but I wanted you to understand the gravity of the situation.
At 2:30, that radio taped to your hand will activate.
You'll have 30 seconds to order the shooting of your friend Belicoff.
If you don't, the generator will start.
Your skin will melt, your blood will vaporise.
There won't be enough left of you to identify.
You have gone to a great deal of trouble.
I am just a bureaucrat.
There is nothing I can do for you, I'm afraid.
I disagree.
This is not a request.
This situation is fixed, and you know both possible outcomes.
Live or die. Your choice.
Here's something to keep things in perspective.
I picked it up last night when I was in your house.
- You bastard! - If I were you, I'd keep that radio dry.
Yell all you like.
The Lord himself won't hear.
There are over 100 highly trained alpha special forces soldiers in this cathedral.
It would be foolish to attempt any type of violence. Your assassin would realise this.
But what if he does? Look around you.
How much civilian blood will be shed?
We are prepared for that as well. Gas canisters are being deployed.
If anything occurs, the civilians will be rendered unconscious.
Now, if you will excuse me...
One minute, 50 seconds.
My brother, he was a troubled man, but he was not always like that.
One minute, 25 seconds.
One minute, 20 seconds.
Should we choose to be kind and let her die, much like my brother?
Or should we do what is necessary, what is hard, to save what we love?
One minute.
I, for one, will not fail again, not with this country.
Not with our children's future, not with you - my countrymen.
35 seconds.
Hurry, come in!
Change target! Shoot Belicoff!
Do it!
Just fucking do it now!
Do not let the assassin escape. Release the gas.
Lock down the doors. I suggest you and your men follow me.
Let's go!
Your man has made a mistake. There is no exit. He's trapped.
It doesn't make sense.
Why would he?
"Trust unto God...
and He shall direct your path."
Shit. He set this up from the beginning.
- Where does this key fit? - The archbishop's personal chambers.
The third tower over the Moskva.
He's going into the river, like in St Pete.
Jenks, get our men. Let's go.
He is in the southwest tower. Call in the gun ships.
Do not let him escape!
Seems I underestimated you.
Consistently.
A miscalculation on my part.
Who are you?
- Answer me. - Let me help you.
How? By having me killed?
Ah, no. For that I'm sorry. It was a mistake.
Was Nika a mistake? Or did you destroy her life for your amusement?
What? You think you can take what has cost millions, years of planning,
for the good of this country, and destroy that?
Then what? Walk away?
You don't think they will let you do that?
If you kill me, they will never let you go. They will hunt you for the rest of your life.
You did yourjob, and you did it very well.
And for that, my boy, you should be proud.
That's it?
Yes. I'm offering you your life back.
That is why you are here, yes? That is what you want.
- No? - No.
- Interpol! Drop your weapons! - We have an arrest warrant for that man.
Don't move! Hands on your head! On your head! On your knees!
Don't do anything stupid.
Just one thing.
Knowing how this ends, was it worth it?
Killing Belicoff?
Knowing how this ends...
definitely.
What do you make of that?
Hell.
- Who the hell are you? - Agent Smith, Central Intelligence Agency.
- All you men, to the rear of that vehicle. - You don't have jurisdiction!
We aren't here. Which means when we shred you with automatic fire,
then this will never have happened.
We believe you're involved in terrorist activities.
We're Interpol. In accordance with Section 3...
We're transporting an international criminal.
What criminal?
- Oh, Jesus Christ! - You know what? I'm sorry, man.
My mistake. I thought you were someone else.
You prick!
On behalf of the US Government, I'd like to extend to you our sincerest apologies.
Load up, boys.
- So now what? - Now you have to answer my question.
Are you a good man, Inspector?
- I think. - And yet you've killed men.
So, Inspector, how does a good man decide when to kill?
If I think a man means to do me or my family harm, then I'll do whatever I can to stop him.
But beyond that...
it's a crapshoot.
The key.
You knew I had jurisdiction and would walk you right out through the front door.
I wanna be left alone.
- Just like that? - Yeah. Just like that.
This is the man you've been looking for.
Ballistics will confirm he was shot by your weapon.
The magazine is in the nightstand next to your bed.
- Don't forget it when you call your superiors. - Did you kill him here?
It's five. If you wait till the girls go to school, you won't have to expose them to this.
- Explains why you waited so long to call it in. - I can't go along with this.
I hope you can.
For both our sakes.
Goodbye, Michael.
I hope I never see you again.
I told you to leave her alone.
You should've listened.