Branded Page #5

has also been taken into custody.

ighly placed sources have suggested

that they are being held

to quiet public outcry over Veronika's coma.

No, no, no. No, no. No, no, no.

No, let's manufacture

some official medical conclusion

that the coma is nobody's fault.

Just some unpredictable physical reaction.

That's good. I like that. Very good.

No, no. What we want is

to make it so that nobody believes

the medical conclusion.

But the people still must demand

someone be punished.

I want...

some fat...

- in Smolensk.

- In Smolensk, saying...

"What the hell? So they cut her up

and now it's nobody's fault!"

- ello?

- Abby!

Misha?

I'm at Sheremetevo.

I'm going away.

Can you hear me?

I'm going away forever.

It was part of the deal.

Hello? Call Bob.

- Call Bob. He'll tell you.

- Abby, I understand everything now!

I love you.

Abby, I lost you! Abby!

I love you.

ello?

Strange coincidence, wouldn't you say?

A simple cosmetic surgery

lands a woman in a coma.

The media reacts with a hysteria not seen

since the first man landed on the moon.

And you know who it all benefits?

You, you f***!

You set this whole thing up

to take Abby away from me

and put me under your control again.

Now listen to me, okay?

To organize the kind of hysteria that you

are talking about would cost millions.

And to perform that surgery on TV

so that your little girl would fall into a coma

would require some sort of super-elite killer.

Now, you think, you really think

that I would spend that kind of money...

on you?!

I actually thought that perhaps

you came here to thank me.

But no, no, no.

You don't have to thank me

for getting you out of jail.

Because if I had any other way

to convince Abby to leave this country

your ass would still be in that jail,

you son of a b*tch!

Get out.

Let's have a drink.

Listen, Bob...

There's something I've been wanting

to tell you for a long time now.

Why do you think it is that the very first guy

you met in Moscow

became the most valuable agent

of your career?

I don't know. Why?

Because I was f***ing terrified.

I'm not a spy, I told you that.

I'm a historian.

You, what, thought I...

went around all these years

recording my clients

with a hidden spy camera?

You remember my first report?

Yeah.

I made it all up for you, Bob.

And you believed me.

You smug, stupid robot.

Misha turned his first employer,

the kiosk owner who had fired him,

into a drug-dealing mobster.

In my mind,

I even imagined my report

like it was the trailer

to one of those

Tom Clancy Paramount thrillers.

This looks like a normal businessman.

But in a place where everything is a facade...

to get the truth out,

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