All language subtitles for Underbelly Land Of The Long Green Cloud s01e02 Trains n Boats n Planes.eng

- So, Marty.
- Rhymes with party. Anybody fancy a joint?

What's your interest...heroin?

- "Buddha"?
- "Buddha" for now.

Not "New Zealand Green", is it?

These drops have to be happening on the harbor.

To our continued investment in Cannabis Sativa.

Success!!

Terry Clark.

Terry's gonna own Cell for us.
Gaza's been showing him the ropes.

I don't trust him.

Jag...Burgundy.

Follow it tonight.

- Why would I want to do that?
- You interested in drugs?

You're under arrest!

It's all circumstantial - everything you've got.

Get it tight, get it real tight.

- Alright?
- Great.

Thanks, darling.

Get it on...Get it on.

While I was chasing round the country on a budget,

checking out orange Dat's and station wagons,

and gathering information on the
missing 18-year-old hitchhiker named Mona Blake,

Marty and Andy were flying first-class

and over-tipping in the best London hotels.

Cheers, me friend.

Look at this!

We never found Mona's body.

Let's not dance around with
names. What can you do for me?

If I wanted to shake hands,

I be wearing a fuckin' glove, huh?

Alright, son, let's deal.

Then you can fuck...

Hi, Marty Johnstone.

Sean Connery

and Marlon fuckin' Brando.

We doin' this at here? Or *?

Sorry, which one's Sean and which one's Marlon?

- I'll pay you 11.5.
- What?

Have you seen the exchange rates?

You want bank rates? Go to the bank.

Make it 13!

This is for our travel.

11.5 is fine.

I thought we appeared as sheepshank colonial wankers.

These people play hardball.

We were lucky to get 11.5.

We've got to pay for this place yet.

Not necessarily.

Okay.

This time we play it tough.

Didn't look like they had to.

The bloke who delivered just in excess
of 75.000 LSD tabs

was a trembly little mouse.

That's 125 sheets at 106 pounds a sheet.

I reckon you could chuck a couple
of sheets in, couldn't ya?

I don't ever. Think you can sod off?

OK...OK. Can you put that thing away?

- We're cool.
- Good.

And tell your customers to go easy.

This is a highly potent batch.

If I wanted to shake hands, I'd
be wearing a fuckin' glove.

He watches the same films I do.

The Queen's Mail...genius.

Ah, Marty and Andy's trip back was a REAL trip.

Just in case I... You got my number, right?

Little Andy was bloody soft, as well.

The prick got off the damn drugs charge.

Just because we "didn't ACTUALLY see him
ACTUALLY receiving any of the drugs".

The guy in the Jag went down for 6 years.

But this Johnstone character's
the one you really wanted.

Uh-hum. He's higher up on the ladder.

Maybe even doing the importing.

Settle down, you'll lose a finger.

At the same time, we've got pot and LSD

flooding the streets

and 7 bloody deaths the last 3 months.

Who died?

Ah, mom's just talking about a story she heard.

Come on. Now, wash your hands,
guys. Dinner's not far off.

For God's sake, Carole.

Can't keep the kids in cottonwool forever.

People are dying out there.

When Marty's batch of LSD hit the streets,

everybody soon found out just how potent it was.

Hey, we can still make love.

- You wanna lick my finger?
- Yeah.

Sorry, darling.

Nice tits; wrong venue to go for it.

In the middle of Queen Street.

- Yeah?
- Take your pick:

drugs, indecent behavior.

There'd be hundreds of LSD charges in 1975.

The year before, you could just
about count them on one hand.

600% profit, babe!

Not bad, huh?

- Beats menswear.
- Everything beats fuckin' menswear!

Well, these bitches are tiring me out, huh?

Maybe your fiancee'd be a better bet.

Ha, ha.

You want some?

We're good with these things.

You're turning me down?

How'd you mean, "reinvest"?

I mean use the LSD profits to
get some major action going.

We've got "major action" goin'.

Nah. We're just getting started.

I'm talking Thai action, man.

Kick-ass!

Buy a decent boat, make some real moves.

We...can be kings!

And cut out Chinese Jack?

All together eventually, we make a bloody fortune.

Move on from sticks to heroin.

We'll see how Terry goes there.

The market's too great for grass.

And we're already set up.

You don't drop packages of "H" in the harbor.

Hey!

Why Terry's looking to buy a boat, then, huh?

Word around the traps is you've been talking to Terry.

About boats?

Terry approached me to see if I'd like to invest.

Well, I hope you didn't, Peter.

Because we've got places to go, you and me.

Sure...you and me.

Not that prick.

Good. Cos' I want to take it all up a notch.

Buy a launch...so we can move bigger shipments.

Flood the bales with marker lights.
Use the boats to pick 'em up.

- Fast. Sound like a plan?
- Sounds great.

But if we're going to start buying boats,

we need to develop a legitimate business run, right?

You know John Murfitt?

OK.

A standard shelf company.

You come up with a name, decide on
capital input, and sign on as directors.

Not me.

I don't put my name on any paper.

"Low profile is safe profile", eh?

I invest, back door.

But no directorship.

How about you and me as directors?

What about your pal, Andy?

Get real. Andy doesn't give a
shit about the corporate stuff.

20.000 capital?

Doable.

Unless you want to put in my share, Marty.

Take it out of the 30.000 you owe me.

Let's keep it clean...separate.

You know I'll get around of the 30.000.

Ah, 10.000 each, then?

Ah, plus my costs.

And the name?

I think "Milltone Holdings" has a nice ring to it.

It'll give you the 1st syllable, partner.

Yeah..."partners".

Except the tension and mistrust had already kicked in.

The table was already sticky with betrayals.

That 30.000 had been a small
loan in the scheme of things.

But in the future, it was going to
become a major bone of contention.

One more thing, John.

Terry Clark's looking to buy himself a boat.

According to my sources, it's called "The Katana".

Let's find out who selling it to him

and have Gary suggest it would be a very,

very bad idea. Okay?

Don't want Terry getting too big
for his boots, do we?

Alright, gather around, you lot.

Come on. Chop, chop!

OK.

I'm not goin' to beat about the bush.

Superintendent Chesterfield,

and other residents of Bullshit Castle...

Thank you, Ding.

The Superintendent has today issued a directive

which recognizes some of our concerns

regarding the increased trade in drugs.

Things are getting too big for
the Drug Squad to handle alone.

But these crooks are getting organized

and moving from pot into LSD and even heroin.

So.

CIS is to be reorganized...as of
now...the better to assist.

It was a start.

Marty's LSD,
berming Clark's imports of heroin,

had finally got the Bullshit
Castle boys off their bums.

There will be: a Mobile Surveillance Unit,

Special Investigations unit,

and General Intelligence.

3 teams of 4 detectives,

each under a Detective Sergeant.

Now, I only get 3 on my crew.

You lot.

Welcome to Special Investigations.

You will spend all of your time

finding out everything that you can

about the 6 blokes in these files.

So, I suggest you start with a bit of reading

and then we'll discuss operational matters. OK?

No Maher and no Johnstone.

No. But...

their mate, Gary Majors, is listed.

So,

they constitute

everything we can find out about him, right?

I wouldn't be holding my breath for success.

Now, now, Grayson, no whinging.

Why not?

Have you read the operational guidelines?

There's still no lab phone taps, but...

oh, hey...wow, look.

We'll be issued with a camera!

And a nice, new, pair of binoculars! Cool!

Hello. Another hill. Another sharp stick.

And a whole fresh pile of crap.

So, let's stop

whinging...

and start pushing. Hm?

Look, we can't keep breaking up Tom and Lou,

and we're not going get
another box of detectives to unwrap.

So, maybe we need to start putting in some
personal time, you know. Get things moving.

Shit!

Look at it, he's calling Maher.

Yeah.

Yeah, Berkin here.

A head?

Head...

This is a favor, yeah.

I don't like movin' stuff in bulk.

You owe me one, Marty.

Ahhh. Yes.

Ahh, I won't forget it.

How's Bonnie? Enjoying the holiday?

She certainly is. So am I.

Yes......yes!

- We in business?
- Let's go!

What...?

This useless piece of shit!

You useless piece of garbage!

While our investigation kept stalling,

Marty had his new boat.

Flashing beacons...

scuba gear...

and loaded with bales of sticks.

Thanks for the joint, Mick.

No worries, Dougie.

That's your imagination.

Where you storing it at?

Hey?

The dope, you know.

The dope?

Safe house.

Why so keen for the details, hmm?

Oh, yeah?

Just asking, heh?

Oh, yeah?

That's our business. Hmm?

Any questions on somebody's behalf? Hmm?

- I didn't mean...
- Jesus, Ari...

Fucky bastards. They're looking to boost
some of our supplies, is that it?

- Bad, Ari...
- They been talking to ya...

- because if'n'they have, you douche...
- Mate!

You have another, moth'fuck!

Just kidding, heh?

But soon...the guns would be real.

Row, row, row your boat.

Merrily, merrily, merrily...

It wasn't all smooth sailing for the syndicate, either.

Answer me!

Sorry, Marty. There's been...

a colossal fuck-up.

- ...more! No more!
- Yeah.

Ran into a bloody sandbank.

Where?

Tomakey estuary.

How's the bloody boat?

We're not sure until we get off the bar.

- There's some damage for sure.
- Shit!

We'll meet you at the ramp.

The priority is to get the weed out of there fast!

- If pinched, then you know something, and sit tight.
- Alright.

Mikie called.

Organize a van. We need to do a cleanup.

Stupid bloody dick!

Get dressed. We need your help.

Fuck's sake, Marty.

Bit of bloody decorum, huh?

Kick him some more, huh?

You wanna go?

It's your money.

You know me - "lover", not a "fighter".

Whole lot of it's soaked. Buggered.

We'll load it up anyway. Dry it out.

Salty Mary...a new taste sensation.

OK. That's enough now.

We'll need him in some kind of shape to
refloat the launch when the tide comes in.

This is your first and last chance, Vigory.

Clean him up. Give him a drink.

Let load the van up, then you lot can deal with the boat.

I'll get our stuff back into town.

If we'd had a bigger box of detectives

we could have been across the
whole shamozzle with the boat

and nicked Marty's brilliant career

right in the marijuana buds.

But, as it was,

while the whole shambles was going down,

Carole was tucked up in bed with Max "de facto".

And I was working yet another late one.

Shit!

Still...we almost got lucky, anyway.

Good evening, officer.

Is there a problem?

Are you aware you were traveling
well over the speed limit, sir?

No, really?

Is this your vehicle?

Borrowed. My mate.

- Can I see your license, please?
- Yeah. Sure.

What's this?

*** dye, mate. Happens all the time.

- Dye?
- Yeah,

I, ah, deal in fabrics.

Frank...come check this out.

Help yourselves.

License must be in the glovebox. Hang on.

Marty-party time.

Marty, jammy as ever, got away.

But he hadn't factored in Andy Maher's stupid streak.

Things had moved too fast.

Andy had used his real driver's
license when he hired the van,

and the uniforms, of course, noted the plate.

What was in the van, Andy?

TV sets? Leather gear?

You up to your old tricks again, are you?

I said...

I rented it to move some furniture.

I parked it outside my house

and somebody nicked the fucker.

Yeah.

And my auntie's a dancer at the bloody Folies Bergere.

Aye?

Are her tits as big as yours, then?

Shall we start again?

"To the victor, the spoils".

Don't smoke it all at once, eh?

They couldn't prove a thing.

We did it again.

What can I say?

The gods bloody well looked down.

We don't need the gods.

I'm bulletproof, mate.

Fucking bulletproof.

The whole notion of pot being a
gateway drug was right on the money.

Next visitor in a few years...pate.

But right now,

heroine was walking in the gate.

Oh!...Shoot!...

Well, this is a novel way to declare all my banned goods.

We didn't know the extent of the trade yet,

but then...neither did Marty.

You counted your money?

Always count the pay.

How's Greg going in Oz?

His sinuses won't last the distance.

The band's going OK, though.

We're at 90%!

Close to freebase.

Stop whining and bag it.

How you gonna cut it?

Only 5%.

Terry reckons..."quality sells".

Okay.

Addicts - dedicated marketbase.

Way of the future.

Gillie Sealman didn't make many runs.

Too bright for that.

Soon she'd be the one organizing the couriers.

***?

In a thermos?

She'd soon be dead, as well.

You think Marty and Andy

will be all right about us getting into heroin?

Well, they don't need to know, do they?

And I, sure as shit, won't be telling them.

We were putting in some personal time.

Our target was Andy Maher.

And Carole had even chucked in Max "de facto"'s car.

How come...you and Max never got married?

Hmm. I don't know.

Just never happened, I guess.

I always thought he was
keeping his options open, but...

then we had kids and...

Are we wasting our time?

The surveillance, you dumbass!

It's not your petrol, matey.

Personal vehicle, personal time.

That's what I mean!

I mean, even if we spot something
interesting, can we actually use it?

If we can get something...

anything,

Then maybe McKenzie can organize a way

for us to shake Maher's tree, ON
the clock, and see what falls out.

Maybe it's falling...here we go.

Who are these guys?

Maybe Mr. Cardex can help.

Big Ari...

Can't even spell his surname, nevermind pronounce it.

And Tommy Harry Lewis.

He works as an advertising consultant for Ari.

At a magazine called "Marianne".

- You got the plate?
- Got it.

Payment of some sort.

Umm-hmm. Looks like it.

I think I got their good sides.

Which car?

Maher's.

Ari...and Harry.

Not from the Finland sides, are they?

This bloke is Andrew Maher,

long time associate of Christopher Martin Johnstone.

Why have you been watching Maher?

He's an associate of Gary Majors, Sarge.

Ah, we think the Maher is the paymaster for Johnstone

and that Majors actually works for them.

We think that these two need
to be at the top of our board.

They don't belong on our board.

Even if your had hard evidence on them.

Our targets are not drug-related.

Just do as you're told for once.

Pass on the information to the damn Drug Squad.

"Associates of Major's".

Nice try.

But HQ still thought

the new god of crime were radicals

like the Progressive Youth Movement.

And dangerous outfits like Amanda Marga.

Yeah, right.

Beat you to death with their vegetarian love beads.

What's this?

Body...temple.

You know I don't eat bacon.

Well, you'd better make sure your
temple puts in a special meal order,

next time it flies, then...

hadn't you?

I'll be out...shoppin'!

- You doin' all pigged-off today.
- So what?

I don't give an oink.

What're you doing here so early, anyway?

Thought you should know...

A - I'm being followed...

and B - we're low on import stock again.

We've got to up the supply.

"Followed"? By who?

I'll find out.

Just don't do anything stupid.

-What? Like bonking air hostesses in Bonnie's ***, heh?
-Hey!

I didn't go looking, she came knocking.

I can't help it if they're falling
over each other to get to me.

Aye, no supply problem in that department.

How about the dope?

We'll organize more local stuff from
Miller's south Auckland contact.

Cinch. Gary can do it.

He's not available.

He's always pleasing Betty these days.

OK. Well, you do it then.

A - I'm being followed. Remember?

How about "Wham Bam"?

Huh?

Wow! You're a genuine mogul now, aren't you, Marty?

You can't even remember who's workin' for you, anymore.

"Wham Bam thank you some" Carlton,
he's one of the late ones.

- Been looking to move up.
- Okay.

If you say so, set it up.

Straight swap...

20.000 for the local.

I'm tellin' ya...

20.000.

- Piss off!
- No, it's a sweet borrow.

Look here.

- Shit!
- Shit.

See.

Midnight...Trains Mission Station.

Me...the money...hello, maryjane.

Swapsees!

500 bucks for my troubles.

- Bugger me.
- Hmm.

Now, ah, if I might make a
suggestion, "Wham Bam", matey.

Me...that amount of money...

See, I'd be getting there early...get a lay of the land.

Cause in the unlikely event...

that your contact proves to be untrustworthy. And me...

trying to lay up a bit of a
trap to relieve you of the cash.

Give us the fuck you got!

Hold, hold!

Here! There's no fucking money!

I...say...adieu!

Shit!

It's embarrassing, I know.

Even with intellectual giants like these in the mix,

we STILL weren't kicking too many goals.

Where's that 20.000?

I swear...

I'm not lying, Mr. Johnstone.

- They had bloody guns.
- Guns!

Nothing spectacular about that, you little shite!

See, word is...

you were flashing our cash around THIS place.

Are you stupid, or what?

Oh! I'm an idiot! That's what.

I'm sorry.

So am I...very.

You took your time.

Just being careful.

You finally looked up the number
plate I gave you, did ya?

You said smack.

I couldn't score any.

So, grass. Plus the hundred.

Problem?

No.

Except that now...

You owe me big time.

I don't owe you a thing.

That black eye was taking it
too fuckin' far, you prick.

Authenticity costs.

And don't ever ask me to
come in this fuckin' dive again.

"Wham Bam" here's given me a
couple of names to look at.

In the meantime, he can work off the 20.000

crewing on the launch...for free.

You're too fuckin' soft, Marty.

Not when I'm working the staff.

This time.

Piss off out of here.

Thank you, Mr. Johnstone.

Thank you.

Come on, Mom! We'll be late!

"Come on, mom!".

Yeah, your Sarge passed these
names onto our boss recently.

- We're looking at them.
- So are we.

Off the books.

We think we got spotted.

They traced the car, I reckon.

Maher's just threatened Carole's family.

What?

Take it to McKenzie.

It wasn't a sanctioned surveillance,

he's already on our case.

Besides, take it to him and say what?

A man shook his head at me,

another one pointed at me.

These people are thugs, but they're not stupid.

- They were subtle for once.
- But...

you sure it was a threat?

For Christ's sake...

Hey, okay, okay. Untwist your knickers.

Back down.

No more privateering.

No more using personal vehicles.

Fine, but 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.

Look...

this guy...

runs a woman's magazine called "Marianne".

Our guess is they'll be persons of interest

in and out of there like rubber dogs.

OK, look.

I will talk to my boss...

AGAIN.

We will try to push it up the chain of command...

AGAIN.

In the meantime...

you stay away from these assholes.

What did Max say?

I haven't told him yet.

I don't know what I'd say. Duh!

Max!

I don't care, Carole. This is our kids.

Yeah, and you think if we cut and run it will fix this?

Look, if they want to find us, they will.

Don't!

Look, they did...

They're just trying to frighten me, Max.

They're cowards. They're not going to do anything.

If you're wrong?!

Well, then we're covered anyway.

My guys know where we are.

They'll cover us for as long as necessary...

Running and hiding , it'll just make it harder
for them and easier for Maher and his mates.

With this...it's sniffer trouble...

- It won't be.
- But, one another sick... - It won't be.

***.

They're into drugs, not murder.

- Andy?
- Redemption to you.

Do you know how much it cost to fix this boat?

We don't do this and Gary has to...

he won't be happy, will he.

So...

"Wham Bam"...

Think you've done enough to work off what you owe?

Breaking.

*Fishes and Mr Johnstone - he'll have his money back.

What's this about?

Nah, it's not about the money.

See, I put you up for that job.

You turned out to be a
stupid...unreliable little asshole.

You made me look like a fool.

Sorry, brother.

You're right.

I was a jerk, OK?

Give your bro a cigarette, Roy.

I don't smoke.

Fuck, ***.

A new page had been turned.

They were working out of the murderer's handbook now.

It really wasn't about the money.

Marty and Andy were only 10.000 out of pocket.

And by this stage, 10.000 was just...

a drop in the ocean.

And they were going places.

"Milltone Investments".

"Milltone Glass Tinting".

And...

- "Milltone Chattels".
- Great. - This'll do it.

We need to be more self-reliant, product-wise.

Local cabbage is useless.

One of Chinese Jack's drops the Thai
sticks and we're up a 100.000.

Cut out the middle man, you can
add almost half as much again.

Thanks, John.

I have to say, stroke of genius.

A charter company is a perfect
front for a blue-water operation.

This corporate stuff is as boring as bat shit.

When's the bar open?

You're still not keen on a directorship?

Still, I fly under the radar, eh?

- Backdoor investments?
- Aye.

And Greg, there's nothing wrong with backdoor, eh?

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, Pierre.
- Aye.

If you don't need the launch anymore,

I'll take it off your hands. Might try it, heh?

Atlantis, she likes it on the water,
if you know what I mean?

All yours, Ari.

We'll still need access til
we get the big boat, though.

Just, ah, hand me a girl on Friday chick night.

No problem.

Just don't tell my bride-to-be
what is the boat used for, huh?

It will be a wedding present.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- New tenant?
- I'm just setting up.

- Here, let me.
- Oh...thank you.

Sarah...Watson.

No problem. Just call me Ari, huh?

The surname's a bit of a mouthful, but, ah...

...so am I.

Welcome to the building, hmm?

Lisa? What's with the new talent
down the corridor, hmm?

ah, I think it's the secretarial service.

Hey.

I wouldn't mind giving it a go, eh?

For her, anyway.

You'll keep me in mind, eh, Terry?

I'll be keen for anything.

- Hey, you got my message
- Yeah.

Harry's been giving me the taint.

What's it about?

I just bought Marty's motorboat, hmm?

It'll be coming off the Thai
freighter runs before too long.

That right?

Harry tells me maybe you have some plans of your own.

Harry's got a big mouth.

Yeah, I just "mentioned".

Just between us.

I was just wondering if a...

Maybe a motorboat come in useful down the track, hmm?

Maybe...in Australia.

I thinking more about plans, mate.

But I might be able to use
you for little bits and pieces.

- Stevie!
- Marty.

Those flowers aren't for me?

You'd be lucky.

- Marty!
- Hey-Hey, how's my favorite girl?

Where have you been...?

You never come and see us.

These are for you.

Wow! They're beautiful.

- Dad?
- Martin.

So...import/export.

You do anything out of Oz?

'Cause, I've been thinking about going back there.

Let me know. I should have something going there soon.

Already got some associates on the ground in Sydney.

We got 4 companies up and running out there.

That'd be a business suit then, would it?

Ryan.

You look like a poof.

- Dad.
- What d'you want?

Do I have to want something to say "hello", ...see Mum.

"Hello".

Ah...it's bitter mood.

Let's have a beer in the kitchen, eh?

Sure...sure.

You remember that boat you used to have, Dad?

"Brigadoon"?

I was just wondering...where is it now?

Two minutes.

Two minutes bloody flat...

and you're being a smartass.

Yes, I remember it.

I don't know where it is.

I also remember that it nearly sent me bloody broke.

Any further comments?

You have any little unpleasantnesses
you'd like bring up?

Have ya?!

Marty!

Come on. Let's have that beer.

This bloke's got form, too.

This promises to be a very fruitful
undercover for you, my lovely.

I'll make friends with his receptionist.

She likes a chat.

A "chat".

Yeah.

About heroin.

I've always considered "H"

a more dangerous proposition than grass,

on all kinds of levels.

But, obviously, there's a market for it.

As you've found out, I believe.

So we need to set some rules for the future.

Here's what's gonna happen:

>if, and when, I decide to move into "H",

we share New Zealand.

I know all about the setup you're developing in Oz.

You can go there.

I'll stay off your toes. We'll do the UK.

Andy's got contacts there.

>Any supply you can organize for yourself out of Asia,

is fine by me.

>Anything I or my contacts supply you with...

I get a cut.

And how much of a cut...

do you think you rate?

And I thought you were more
interested in expanding your grass import...

with Miller.

I am.

But Miller's just a means to an end.

This op...is mine...and Andy's.

And with "H"...we talking down the track a ways.

In the meantime...

I'm buying a boat.

Hadn't ya heard?

Why this one?

More size, more range.

Plus, it used to be Marty's old man's.

He had a ***, he had to sell it.

They're looking at boats.

Boats?

We'll see what for.

Nothing we can move on yet - that's "company structures".

Everything looks legit.

He was so proud of this.

The hours he spent up on the hud, doing the finishes.

I hardly saw him.

Hey, a joint task force would
be a good idea, don't you think?

Pool resources, get something really happening.

Dream on, a joint task force?

And he wants common sense.

- How big?
- 50-60 foot.

If they're looking at boats that size,

maybe they're thinking of going overseas themselves.

That's what we thought, too.

We'll keep tabs on them.

50.000? That's a lot of money.

***.

Milltone Chattels buys it.

- You up for the Thailand trip?
- I guess.

Don't "guess".

"Believe".

Now, you up for navigating or not?

We've already got some whispers about a trip,

and an angle on that Clark character, too.

"Clark"?

Importing?

And not by boat, either.

I've aready organized his supply at source.

Let's buy this thing.

Aye.

Can't wait to see Chinese Jack's face.

Can't wait to see my dad's...

Karma.

Gentlemen,

we're gonna make a fortune.

Marty wouldn't know what a fortune is.

Looks like heroin to me.

Fucking bastard.

He told me it was grass.

...this is where is the real game, huh?

Using smack,

like most things, takes practice.

The purer the product, the bigger the hit.

And if you're suddenly blessed
with some really high-grade gear,...

then...

heroin...

white as angel wings...

can turn out to be pure...

white...

death.

So, why's your mate, Ben, still stitting outside?

He's just being over-protective.

Yeah.

Why would he feel that way?

Oh, come on, Max.

He's a disobedient dog with a bone.

Command's pulled the surveillance,

It's only meant

to be patrol drive-by's now, because

it's like I told you.

They're cowards.

I'd feel better if they were cowards behind bars.

Ah, tell me about it.

They're still jumping on the couriers

instead of letting the shipments through
and tracing them to the next level.

I thought you said the Drug
Squad was sharper than that.

They are,

but they have their orders,

we have ours.

'T least this time they took some heroin off the street.

And...

the courier rolled over on her boyfriend.

Terry Clark...

is history.

French food's great,

but I bet it tastes bitter ***.

***?

So, you're *** for holidays, ain't you, jewels?

Couldn't you do with ***?

One down...

Terry Clark!

What the hell is going on?

Get your hands off me.

...We charge you with the importation of a banned
substance! You're under arrest!

Terry had gone from street-dealer...

to wholesaler...

to importer...

in short order.

And his arrest would be the end of his career...

in our ***.

Should've listened to me.

Dangerous ground, "H".

Dangerous fuckin' ground.

Aye. We'll pull our heads in for a bit.

No bloody way. They looking at us? No!

No, mate.

WE...take it through the fuckin' roof,

- that's what we do.
- Aye!

And while they did that,

Clark would make bail

and skip the country.

From this point on, his focus
would be on the wonderful land of Oz.

Marty's agreement with Terry had
set down the rules of engagement.

And now...

the syndicate was well and truly...

on track.

Marty Johnstone and his best mate,
Andy, would build an empire.

One of the biggest drug operations
the world has ever seen.

And a hell of a lot of people...

would die.

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