Hranari Page #3

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Rascal!

The money will go through an account

in the Virgin Islands. Untraceable.

Absolutely safe for everyone.

Yes!

The new hospital must have whirlpools.

What would used whirlpools cost?

Euro200.

That's it! We'll put in old ones,

and they won't notice sh*t.

- And Jochen can repackage them.

- No problem.

- What's your name?

- Edita.

Impossible! He's more interested

in that woman than in money.

- Should I translate that?

- No.

Erika, come here.

So it's like we agreed:

you get some extra cash,

and we keep quiet.

What your boss doesn't know

won't hurt her. Which one, Jochen?

Ma, second door on the right.

Sorry to bother you, sir,

but could you help us?

Very kind of you, thanks.

Look at this!

- What's your name?

- Kristna.

That's a pretty name.

My daughter's name is Kristna.

- If I show you her

will you show me it? - Yes.

You whore!

"Prague, day two

Wednesday, July 20, 2011"

"Sealed bid tender for construction

of Prague Medical Complex"

Give me a minute...

Son of a b*tch!

That bastard underbid us.

For God's sake, cancel the tender!

Relax, maybe he'll think of something.

No.

"Lobbyist, businessman, advisor,

Moscow politics graduate"

"No!"

Ladies and gentlemen,

let's welcome the mayor...

And we're f***ed.

Relax, that won't solve anything.

We'd have it solved already

if we'd hired more capable people.

Who's the lowest? Who's going

to save us the most money?

Slma! What a matador!

Well, announce it right away.

The winner of the tender for

the medical complex is Slma Group.

- What'll we tell the party?

- That there's nothing for the campaign.

Wait, it's easy:

we'll scam Slma's subcontractors.

He'll have to jack up the price.

Otherwise, he can go f*** himself.

This nonsense scares me.

If some provincial rag

were after Slma, then maybe,

but Mlada Fronta newspaper

is our worst nightmare.

We need a plan.

Either Slma plays ball

or we'll drag this out.

We'll stew him in his own juices.

That'll do it...

...and if it doesn't then...

Oh, my God!

- Where is she?

- Upstairs.

- Was Erika there yesterday?

- Yeah, why?

Good.

- After you.

- Thanks.

Cheers!

What wonderful nonsense, eh?

It's weird about the courier...

I've been thinking about it too.

- He should at least call, right?

- Forget about it.

I'm in another league.

I'll pull out my aces at the right time.

Man, in the '90s every deal stank.

But we still went for it,

sometimes risky, sometimes not.

Way outside of a legal system

that no one gave a damn about.

We didn't even have lawyers.

And onetime secret agents

arranged quick loans for a 100 grand.

Times are different now:

nobody can f***ing get enough.

Everyone started buying up

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