[Camera pans along the street of a third world neighbourhood heavily strewn in shell casings then up at Yuri Orlov who turns around] There are over 550 million firearms in worldwide circulation. That's one firearm for every twelve people on the planet. The only question is... [takes a sharp drag on a cigarette and exhales] ...how do we arm the other eleven?
My name is Yuri Orlov. When I was a boy, my family came to America. But not all the way. Like most Ukrainians, we gathered in Brighton Beach. It reminded us of the Black Sea. I soon realized we'd just swapped one hell for another. Even in hell, an angel sometimes makes an appearance. I'd worshipped Ava Fontaine since I was 10 years old. Of course, she didn't know I existed. I was starting to think she had a point. For the first twenty-odd years of my life... Little Odessa was to me what it is to the Q train... the end of the line. Oh, I did lie about my name. It's not really Yuri Orlov. There've been few occasions in the in the 20th century... when it's been an advantage be a Jew. But in the 'seventies, to escape the Soviet Union, our family pretended to be Jewish. Little about my life has been kosher ever since.
That's Vitaly, my younger brother. He was as lost as me. He didn't know it yet.
My father took his assumed identity to heart. He was more Jewish than most Jews. Which drove my Catholic mother crazy.
Growing up in Little Odessa, murder was in everyday part of life. Russian mobsters had also migrated from the Soviet Union and when they came to America, their baggage came with them. There is always some gangster getting whacked in my neighborhood But, I have never seen with my own eyes I had the knack of showing up five minutes before something went down or, five minutes after. Not that day. [Witnesses two hit-men attempt to assassinate a mafia don in a restaurant only to be assassinated themselves by their target] It hit me. It couldn't have hit me harder if I was the one who murdered and shot.
[Selling an Uzi submachine gun to thugs in a hotel room] Gentlemen. The new Uzi machine pistol. Big firepower in a small package. This little baby uses 9 mm hollow points. Twenty twenty-five round extendable mags... rear-flip adjustable sights. Silencer comes standard. Excellent recoil reduction. Muzzle jump reduced forty percent. Sixty percent improved noise suppression. You could pump a mag into me right now and never wake the guy in the next room. [Thug cocks Uzi and aims it at Yuri's chest] Of course, that would eliminate your opportunity for repeat business. [Thug packs up Uzi and leaves with Yuri reveling in his payment]
Fortunately, back then a video camera was a big as a bazooka Here I'd been running away from violence my whole life, and I should've run towards it. It's in our nature. The earliest human skeletons had spearheads in their rib cages.
[Before getting shot by a Colombian drug lord in a dispute over payment in cocaine] The first and most important rule of gun-running is, never get shot with your own merchandise.
The second rule of gun running is always insure, you have a full proof way to get paid, preferably in advance, ideally to an off-shore account. That is why I choose my customer so carefully. Say what you like about warlords and dictators. They tend to have highly developed sense of order They always pay their bills on time.
I don't know what was going through Vitaly's head that day. What I do know is that Vitaly broke the cardinal rule of gun-running: never pick up a gun and join the customers.
The problem with gunrunners going to war is that there's no shortage of ammunition. This was the chaos that the Old Guard had always feared. As far as they were concerned, I was giving arms dealers a bad name. But they could hardly report me to the Better Business Bureau. And Ukraine wasn't the only former state... with an unpaid army and stockpiles of guns. There was Bulgaria, Hungary, Poland, Belarus... all there for the taking. Of all the weapons in the vast Soviet arsenal nothing was more profitable than Avtomat Kalashnikova model of 1947, more commonly known as the AK-47, or Kalashnikov. It's the world's most popular assault rifle, a weapon all fighters love. An elegantly simple nine pound amalgamation of forged steel and plywood, it doesn't break, jam, or overheat. It will shoot whether it's covered in mud or filled with sand. It's so easy even a child can use it, and they do. The Soviets put the gun on a coin, Mozambique put it on their flag. Since the end of the Cold War, the Kalashnikov has become the Russian people's greatest export. After that comes vodka, caviar, and suicidal novelists. One thing is for sure; no one was lining up to buy their cars.
[To airforce helicopter mechanic] Son, get off there before you get hurt!
Thanks to me, it finally get to shoot in anger.
After the wall came down, thirty two billion dollars worth of arms were stolen and resold from Ukraine alone. One of the greatest heists of the twentieth century. The primary market was Africa, Eleven major conflicts involving twenty three countries in less than a decade. A gunrunner's wet dream. At the time the West couldn't care less, they had a white war in what was left of Yugoslavia. I did the bulk of my business in Liberia "land of the free," originally established as a homeland for freed American slaves and has been enslaved by one dictator after another, since then, the latest dictator is American educated self-declared president Andre Baptiste Sr.
[To Vitaly after insurgents are executed in Lebanon] It is not our fight.
[Being driven around Monrovia by Andrei Baptiste Jr.] President Baptiste was my best customer, but I was in no hurry to meet him. He got the reputation for routinely hacking of the limbs those who opposed him his seven years of civil war has been described as relentless campaign of sadistic wonton violence. That kind of sums up Andie for me.
[Being driven around Monrovia by Andrei Jr. after business meeting] If I thought I was scared of Andrei Senior, I knew I was scared of Andrei Junior. Like father, like son! The guava doesn't fall too far from the tree. He was also a cannibal. They say Andrei would give They give the super human strength. Monrovia itself was like being on a new planet. Planet Monrovia. From the temperature, it was obviously planet close to the sun I rarely saw another white man. And, I never left town alone. Outside town was hell of the edge of hell. I didn't want to even gaze into it.
Conflict diamonds are a common currency in West Africa, also referred to as "blood diamonds" since bloodshed is what they generally finance. By the late '90s, my wealth had caught up to my lies about my wealth. Even surpassed my lies. I could even afford to become a patron of the arts.
I was now the best merchant of death alive. I didn't own my own plane, I owned a fleet. Running guns into Liberia, Sierra Leone, or the Ivory Coast at least once a week. Most trips I had phony paperwork. The deadline was tight and I had to cut corners, I had no paperwork at all. But I wasn't overly concerned. There was hardly any radar over most of Africa and even fewer people to watch it.
[Drops down rear plane loading ramp with Sierre Leonean villagers crowding around] Come here. Come here! Hey, don't be shy. Here, look! Free sample help yourself, okay?! Free sample! Tell your friend! Gun for you! Happy times! Come on! Help yourselves! No charge! Everything goes! Guns, guns, guns, yes, come on up! Here! You're having fun now, huh?! Come on! Guns, guns, guns! Yes! Bullets, guns, grenades! Take 'em all! Take the whole crate! Go ahead! Gun, grenades, hooray! Bullets! Guns! Grenades! Yeah! That one's got your name on it! You want one, too?! Come on! Don't forget the bullets! Don't forget the bullets! How can you shoot a gun if you don't have bullets?! Everything goes for free! Guns, grenades! All you see! Bullets, guns, grenades! Hooray, hooray! Have the bullets!
[Narrating] What a cargo crew at Heathrow Airport does in a day took a bunch of malnourished Sierra Leonean locals ten minutes. By the time Agent Valentine got there, you could find more guns on a plane full of Quakers.
[Narrating] There are only two tragedies in life. One is not getting what you want, the other is getting it.
I was an equal opportunity merchant of death. I supplied everyone but the Salvation Army. I sold Israeli-model Uzis to Muslims. I sold Communist-made bullets to Fascists... I even shipped cargo to Afghanistan when they were fighting my fellow Soviets. I never sold to Osama bin Laden. Not on any moral grounds: back then, he was always bouncing checks.
They say, "Evil prevails when good men fail to act." What they ought to say is, "Evil prevails."
[On the phone] Truce? What do you mean, truce, the guns are already on their way... Peace talks... All right, forget it. I'll reroute the shipment to the Balkans. When they say they're going to have a war, they keep their word!
I sell to leftists, and rightists. I sell to pacifists, but they're not the most regular customers. Of course, you're not a true internationalist until you've supplied weapons to kill your own countrymen.
Selling a gun for the first time is a lot like having sex for the first time. You're excited but you don't really know what the hell you're doing. And some way, one way or another, it's over too fast.
Thank God there are still legal ways to exploit developing countries. The only problem with an honest buck is they're so hard to make - the margins are too low, too many people are doin' it.
Where there's a will, there's a weapon.
Every day there's people shooting each other. You know what I do when I see that? I look to see what guns they're using and I think to myself, why not my guns?
Most people are happy just to get out of jail. I expect to be paid to leave. I'm not a fool; I know that just because they needed me that day didn't mean they wouldn't make me a scapegoat the next. But I was back, doing what I do best.
[Last lines] You know who's going to inherit the Earth? Arms dealers. Because everyone else is too busy killing each other. That's the secret to survival. Never go to war. Especially with yourself.
[To Yuri Orlov] You get rich by giving the poorest people on the planet the means to continue killing each other. Do you know why I do what I do? I mean, there are more prestigious assignments. Keeping track of nuclear arsenals. You'd think that more critical to world security. But it's not. No. Nine out of ten war victims today are killed with assault rifles and small arms. Like yours. Those nuclear missiles, they sit in their silos. Your AK-47, that is the real weapon of mass destruction.
Bullets change governments far surer than votes.
[Referring to Jewish cowboy hat] I like it. I like the hat to remind us there is something above us. I like that. I'm going to temple.
[To husband] You are not Jewish!
[To husband] You are not going to temple! You go to temple more than the Rabbi!
[To Yuri] You are going to the restaurant business because people are always going to have to eat!
[Being told to step down from army helicopter by Yuri] I can take it apart with my eyes closed!
While private gun-runners continue to thrive, the world's biggest arms suppliers are the U.S., U.K., Russia, France, and China. They are also the five permanent members of the U.N. Security Council.
Vitaly Orlov: [Yuri walks in eatery] Where have you been? What if we had a customer?
Yuri Orlov: God bless America. [Noticing sign in kitchen] Beware of the dog? You don't have a dog. Are you trying to scare people?
Vitaly Orlov: No, it's to scare me. Remind me to be aware of the dog in me. The dog wants to fuck everything that moves. Wants to fight and kill weaker dogs. I guess it's to remind me to be more human.
Yuri Orlov: Isn't being a dog part of being human? What if that's the best part of you? The dog part. What if you're really just a two-legged dog?
Yuri Orlov: Vitaly, stop fucking around. I want to talk to you. You read the newspapers, Vit?
Vitaly Orlov: Newspaper? It's always the same.
Yuri Orlov: You're right. Every day there's people shooting each other. You know what I do when I see that? I look to see what guns they're using and I think to myself, why not my guns?
Vitaly Orlov: Yuri, what the fuck do you know about guns?
Yuri Orlov: I know which end I'd rather be on.
Vitaly Orlov: What, are you thinking of opening a gun shop?
Yuri Orlov: I've already made the first sale. We're already in business.
Vitaly Orlov: We?
Yuri Orlov: I need a partner.
Vitaly Orlov: I don't know, Yuri- I don't know...
Yuri Orlov: Vitaly, I've tasted your borscht- you're no fucking chef! I can eat in the restaurant for free and I still don't eat there!
Vitaly Orlov: Fuck you!
Yuri Orlov: We're doing nothing with our lives! I mean- it's a shit! It's a shit! It's a fuck!
Vitaly Orlov: It's true. But maybe doing nothing's better than doing this.
Yuri Orlov: Excuse me, Simeon Weisz? [Hands his business card to Weisz, who glances at it] A mutual friend, Eli Kurtzman, in Brighton Beach, contacted you. I have a business proposal. I thought perhaps you and I could-
Simeon Weisz: [Interrupting] I don't think you and I are in the same business. You think I just sell guns, don't you? I don't. I take sides.
Yuri Orlov: But in the Iran-Iraq War, you sold guns to both sides.
Simeon Weisz: Did you ever consider that I wanted both sides to lose? Bullets change governments far surer than votes. You're in the wrong place, my young friend; this is no place for amateurs.
Simeon Weisz: Not all of you, I think. You have gotten so rich selling for the CIA you can't seem to get that ideology completely out of your head All the Cold War had its uses. Got the tensions frozen. Now it is harder to determine which side one is on. Things have become more complicated.
Yuri Orlov: No. It has gotten simpler. There is no place in gun running for politics anymore Simeon. I saw the leftist and rightist. I saw the pacifist, but they are not regular customers. Of course, you are not true internationalist until you supply weapons to kill your own countrymen.
Simeon Weisz: This current state of chaos won't last forever. There will have to be order. Instead of cutting each other's throat may be beneficial if we work together. What do you think?
Yuri Orlov: You know what I think? I think you are the amateur now. I think you should go with your instincts, with your first instinct. I am the same man who was not good enough for you before and I am just not good enough for you now.
Yuri Orlov: [Referring to bags of cocaine] What is this?
Colombian drug czar: Six kilos of pure cocaine.
Yuri Orlov: I can't hand this to my fucking bank teller at Chase Manhattan!
Colombian drug czar: Listen, asshole, you should be thanking me! Have you checked the street price today? With the seizures at the border last week, it's jumped thirty percent
Yuri Orlov: I sell guns. I don't sell drugs.
Colombian drug czar: Diversify
Yuri Orlov: I've got standards. You don't pay, you don't play!
Andre Baptiste Sr.: [Showing off child soldiers at presidential palace to Yuri] These are my Kalashnikov Kids. My Boy Brigades. I can see what you are thinking, but we need every man we can get.
Yuri Orlov: Even if they're not men?
Andre Baptiste Sr.: A bullet from a fourteen-year-old... is just as effective as one from a forty-year-old. Often more effective. No one can stop this bath of blood.
Yuri Orlov: It's not "bath of blood." It's "bloodbath."
Andre Baptiste Sr.: Thank you. But I prefer it my way. I am not going to pay your asking price. We are not a rich people. Besides, the market is already flooded with your Kalashnikovs; do you realize in some parts of my country you can get one for the price of a chicken?
Andre Baptiste Sr.: "Andy". I am going to pay you in timber... or stone.
[Baptiste reaches out, opens his hand, and scatters a fistful of diamonds on his desk.]
Yuri Orlov: I'll take the stones; it's kinda hard to get a tree trunk into my hand luggage. I know you're planning a new offensive. If you can delay a week, I can get you armored personnel carriers. They'll greatly reduce your casualties, and give you a significant strategic advantage.
[Andre Baptiste Sr. looks at Yuri for a moment, visibly impressed.]
Andre Baptiste Sr.: You know, they call me the Lord of War. But perhaps it is you.
Yuri Orlov: It's not "Lord of War", it's "Warlord".
Andre Baptiste Sr.: Thank you, but I prefer it my way.
Vitaly Orlov: Hey, Ava knows, right?
Yuri Orlov: I never want to say anything, She doesn't have to know. She understands. She's a survivor, like me.
Vitaly Orlov: She may be a survivor, but she's not like you. Really? She doesn't know how you pay for all this?
Yuri Orlov: We don't talk about it. How many car salesman talk about their work? Huh? How many cigarette salesmen? Both their products kill more people every year than mine. At least mine has a safety switch. If those guys can leave their work at the office, so can I.
Pilot Alexei: [Interpol plane is firing on Yuri's cargo plane over Sierre Leone] Yuri, what the fuck is going on?!
Yuri Orlov: [Calling a Ukrainian army general] Hello, Southern? It's Yuri. I am sorry to call you on this number, but I've got Interpol's all over my ass!
Southern: I can't help you right now. It's uh, not a good time.
Yuri Orlov: Not a good time?! Motherfucker!
Pilot Alexei: I'm putting us down!
Yuri Orlov: If you land, we're going away! I don't have paperwork!
Pilot Alexei: We're in a flying fucking bomb! They're firing bullets at our bullets! I'm putting us down!
Yuri Orlov: [To pilots running away] We're gonna be okay! Where are you going?!
Alexei: As far from the evidence as we can get!
Yuri Orlov: Wait, there's not going to be any evidence!
Agent Valentine: Yuri Orlov.
Yuri Orlov: [Mbizi holds a machete to Yuri's throat] Ow! Fuck!
Mbizi: You run from us?!
Agent Valentine: No, Mbizi! No!
Mbizi: Can you run with no legs? Let me make him disappear, Mr. Valentine! Around here, people disappear all the time!
Agent Valentine: I can't do that!
Mbizi: Look where we are. Who will know?
Agent Valentine: We will! He's gonna get what's coming to him.
Mbizi: I'm not as certain.
Agent Valentine: All right, get up.
Yuri Orlov: What's the charge?
Agent Valentine: What are you doing in Sierra Leone?
Yuri Orlov: I'm on safari.
Agent Valentine: Yeah? You're hunting wildebeests with a submachine gun?
Yuri Orlov: Do you also work with the Park Service? Hunting without a license, is that the charge? Why are we playing games?
Agent Valentine: You traffic arms. Trade. Trade. Traffic. You get rich by giving the poorest people on the planet the means to continue killing each other. Do you know why I do what I do? I mean, there are more prestigious assignments. [Sits on crate facing Yuri] Keeping track of nuclear arsenals, You'd think that's more critical to world security, but it's not. No, nine out of ten war victims today are killed with assault rifles and small like yours. Those nuclear missiles? They sit in their silos. Your AK-47? That is the real weapon of mass destruction.
Yuri Orlov: I don't want people dead, Agent Valentine. I don't put a gun to anybody's head and make them shoot. I admit, but shooting war is better for business, but I prefer people to fire my guns and miss. Just as long as they're firing. Can I go now? You've got nothing on me. Except cuffs.
Agent Valentine: Since you're so concerned with the law, you must know that I'm legally permitted to hold you for twenty- four hours without charging you. You might ask why I would do that and I can assure you. It's not because I enjoy your company, because I don't. No, the reason why I'll delay you for every second of the permissible twenty-four hours I'm delaying your deadly trade and the deaths of your victims. I don't think of it as taking a day from you... but giving a day to them. Some innocent man, woman, or child is going to have an extra day on this earth because you're not free. So, I will see you in twenty-three hours and fifty-five minutes, hmm? [Drives away and local Sierre Leonean villagers disassemble plane overnight with Yuri watching]
[Yuri has convinced his uncle Dimitri, a major general on the Soviet, now Ukrainian Army, to show him the armory of Dimitri's military base.]
Yuri: How many Kalashnikovs do you have?
Uncle Dimitri: Forty thousand.
Yuri: [Glancing at the paper on Uncle Dimitri's clipboard] Is that a four? Doesn't look like a four to me. Looks more like a one.
Uncle Dimitri: No, it's a four.
Yuri: It's whatever we say it is, because no one else will know the difference. Ten thousand Kalashnikovs for a battalion... your stocks are badly depleted, Dimitri. You should order more from the factory.
Uncle Dimitri: Someone will work it out. What happens then?
Yuri Orlov: We'll cut them in.
Andrei Baptiste Jr.: [Pulls up to Mr. Yuri about to board a ship] Mr. Yuri. My father would like to meet you.
Yuri Orlov: What an honor! Thank him. But unfortunately I have other business. It's a shame. It's a very busy schedule. [Andrei Jr., male friend and two female companions derisively chuckles, with Andrei Jr. stepping out of vehicle holding up golden Kalashnikov rifle and takes off sunglasses ]
Andrei Baptiste Jr.: It's not, how to say, optional. My father is easily offended.
Yuri Orlov: My schedule just freed up.
Yuri Orlov: [At Andrei's presidential compound showing the Liberian president a silver revolver pistol] The Glock is interesting. It is made of a polymer composite. Many of my clients feel that they can go through airport security without seeing a lot of bells and whistles. Personally, I do not recommend that. [Andrei chuckles glancing over at a guard flirting with a female staffer] On the other hand, if you are looking for traditional wheel gun, there is no substitute for six inches of muzzle energy of 357 mag I mean, of course, it will never jam. [Andrei shoots the guard flirting with the female staffer] WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!
Andrei Baptiste Sr.: [Aims gun at Yuri] WHAT DID YOU SAY?!
Yuri Orlov: Now, you gonna have to buy it! IT IS A USED GUN! How can I sell a used gun? [Takes pistol from Andrei with his son and bodyguards all aiming rifles at an entirely still business-focused Yuri]
Andrei Baptiste Sr.: A "used gun"? A "used gun"?! [Chuckles] That's a good one. You know? There is no discipline with the youth today. I tried to set an example, but it is difficult huh? Personally, I blame MTV. [Smiles and Yuri nods in acknowledgment] A "used gun"? [Chuckles heartily, gets up and extends hand for handshake] I think you and I, we can do business.
Andrei Baptiste Jr.: This is your hotel. Two stars. Do you bring the gun of Rambo?
Yuri Orlov: The M60. Would you like an armor-piercing bullets?
Andrei Jr.: Please. My father left a welcoming present to you. Enjoy.
Monrovia hotel clerk friend: [Watching television coverage of the 1995 murder trial of O. J. Simpson with a friend] My God, she nearly got her head cut off!
Monrovia hotel clerk: When I get to America, I will not live in Brentwood. [Yuri enters and he holds out Yuri's hotel room key still focused on television] Second floor.
[Yuri enters Monrovia hotel room to be met by two dancing women]
Iman and Naomi: Hello, Mr. Yuri.
Yuri Orlov: Hi.
Iman and Naomi: We'd be happy to make you happy.
Yuri Orlov: Uh, I can't. I'd love to. But I can't.
Iman and Naomi: Don't worry. We don't have anything.
Iman and Naomi: How do you know? Do we look like it? What if I have AIDS? Don't you worry? You worry too much. Why do you worry about something that can kill you in ten years when there are so many things that can kill you today? Now... how can we make you happy?
Yuri Orlov: By leaving. [Shoves them outside his room]
Yuri Orlov: [Meeting Andre at his New York City apartment] What the fuck are you doing here?!
Andre Baptiste Sr.: We are here for peace talks at the United Nations.
Yuri Orlov: So at the same time you thought you'd drop in on your arms dealer?
Andre Baptiste Sr.: You know, I was wondering if that still is your profession. You are a hard man to get a hold of, all of a sudden. It is a shame. My son and I, we were hoping to do a little shopping while we are here in New York.
Yuri Orlov: You know they're watching you.
Andre Baptiste Sr.: Yes, I know they blame me. They blame me for everything, those hypocrites! They are on a hunt for a witch.
Yuri Orlov: Witch hunt.
Andre Baptiste Sr.: Hostilities have escalated. They are making it very difficult for me to resupply. And that requires a man... of your rare ingenuity.
Yuri Orlov: [Hesitant] I can't help you; I'm sorry.
[Yuri turns to go back inside his apartment; Andre Baptiste Sr. moves to block him. The two men stare at each other a few moments before Andre glances down at Yuri's right hand, probably noticing his marriage ring, and smiles.]
Andre Baptiste Sr.: I understand. But you should know this. Under the present circumstances, we are compelled... to be unusually generous.
[Andre Baptiste Sr. presses a large diamond into Yuri's open palm; Yuri's hand closes on the diamond, and the Liberian dictator grins, knowing Yuri is tempted.]
Andre Baptiste Jr.: [Setting a hand on Yuri's shoulder] You still haven't brought me the gun of Rambo.
Andre Baptiste Sr.: So I will see you soon. Lord of War.
Yuri Orlov: Enjoy it.
Jack Valentine: What?
Yuri Orlov: This. Tell me I'm everything you despise. That I'm the personification of evil. That I'm what- responsible for the breakdown of the fabric of society and world order. I'm a one-man genocide. Say everything you want to say to me now. Because you don't have long.
Jack Valentine: Are you crazy? Or just plain delusional? You have broken every arms embargo written! There is enough evidence here to put you away for consecutive life sentences! You are gonna spend the next ten years of your life going from a cell to a courtroom before you even start serving your time! [Pause] I don't think you fully appreciate the seriousness of your situation!
Yuri Orlov: [Quietly] ... My family has disowned me. My wife and son have left me. My brother is dead. Trust me, I fully appreciate the seriousness of my situation. But I promise you, I won't spend a single second in a courtroom.
Jack Valentine: [Scoffs] You are delusional.
Yuri Orlov: I like you, Jack. [Considers] Well, maybe not, but... I understand you. Let me tell you what's gonna happen. This way you can prepare yourself.
[Valentine scoffs again, but decides to listen]
Jack Valentine: Okay.
Yuri Orlov: Soon there's gonna be a knock on that door and you will be called outside. In the hall there will be a man who outranks you. First, he'll compliment you on the fine job you've done, that you're making the world a safer place, that you're to receive a commendation and a promotion. And then he's going to tell you that I am to be released. You're going to protest... you'll probably threaten to resign.
[Flash-forward scene of a bureaucratic man walking down a hall who then makes a call]
Yuri Orlov: But in the end, I will be released. The reason I'll be released is the same reason you think I'll be convicted. I do rub shoulders with some of the most vile, sadistic men calling themselves leaders today. [Points to the newspaper] But some of those men are the enemies of your enemies. And while the biggest arms dealer in the world is your boss, the President of the United States, who ships more merchandise in a day than I do in a year... sometimes it's embarrassing to have his fingerprints on the guns. Sometimes he needs a freelancer like me to supply forces he can't be seen supplying. So... you call me evil. But unfortunately for you, I'm a necessary evil.
[Valentine now looks very grim, realizing Orlov is right. There is a knock at the door just as Yuri promised]
Jack Valentine: [Getting up] I would tell you to go to Hell, but I think you're already there.