Transsiberian Page #6

Hi.

- Aah.

- Roy.

Sh*t.

Sh*t, Roy.

- Push him out.

- What?

Push him out.

Ohh.

She's powered up.

I just got to get her moving.

I worked a diesel

simulator once...

at the Rail Museum

in Des Moines.

Great.

The gages were in English.

Oh, sh*t.

Roy.

- Sh*t.

- Sh*t, go.

- What?

- Shut... shut all the doors.

- Shut all the doors.

- Okay.

Okay. That's the throttle.

Brakes. Just need the brakes.

That's it, sweetheart.

Yeah.

She's stalling.

Where's the fuel pump?

Come on.

No. Oh, no.

He's coming. Sh*t.

Jess, hold the door.

Help.

Aah.

Aah.

Aah.

Ohh. Oh, God.

Are you okay?

Kolzak.

You listen to me.

You must take responsibility.

He will kill Roy, okay?

Where is Carlos?

Where is he?

Where is he?

And you think this

American bluff,

just game?

He will shoot

him... in the head.

Unless you tell me now.

Where is Carlos?

- He's dead.

- Where is he?

I killed him.

Aah.

Oh, no, no.

No.

No, wait. It's... He's...

It's him.

He was... he was

gonna kill us.

He was gonna kill us.

Wait. Listen... listen...

He was... He was trying...

He wanted to... ahh.

You got the statements?

Uh, Mr. Nassir?

Yeah. Come on in, fellas.

Now these three were...

mid-level ops in

an Uzbeki gang...

run by a fellow

named Javid Rukshan.

He pours junk into the states

by Japan.

And your pal the cop,

well he made sure...

that nobody interfered

with the operation,

including, of course,

his own guys...

at the MVD.

He's a marked man now.

On both sides.

Now the good news is,

Mrs. Nassir,

that your photo may

make it possible...

for us and the

Russian police...

to put this whole operation

behind bars.

Way to go, sweetie.

Oh, yeah.

Sorry about the camera.

Now, um...

may I give you a

word of advice?

Something my, uh,

my mama always

used to tell me.

Don't you be talking

to strangers.

Carlos Ximnez from Barcelona.

Those are his priors.

Theft, possession,

sexual assault.

Trafficking is a

new bag for him.

Well, you think

you'll find him?

Someone will.

Us first, if he's lucky.

Mmm.

And her?

Abby Brunell. 20 years old.

Last known address Seattle.

Haven't been able

to track down any family.

Ah, just another lost kid.

Made the mistake

of falling for the wrong guy.

Well, like you told us

in your statements.

Which are... oh, yeah.

Here we go.

Yep. All nicely printed out

in easy-to-read English.

What's gonna happen to her?

Ah, soon as she's fit,

she'll be sent back

to the states.

At the taxpayer's expense.

Now, your signature here...

means that you swear

it's all truthful.

Just right here, Mr. Nassir.

Roy?

I need to see her.

Hi.

I want to tell you

something, okay?

- Here you are, sir.

- Thank you, ma'am.

You all right?

Mm-hmm.

What'd you say to her?

Just something

you once told me.

In the hospital.

Oh, you're kidding.

The doughnut thing?

Honey, I don't even know

what that means.

I just was trying

to cheer you up...

to make you look on

the bright side.

I know.

Ahh.

It's sure gonna be nice

to be back home.

Max. Max, come here.

Leave her alone.

I'm sorry.

That's okay.

Stay in your seat,

honey.

It's okay.

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