Siberia Page #3

if I'm lucky.

Well, play nice

with those poor Muscovites.

It's St. Petersburg

this time.

And you know me...

I always play nice.

[wind gusting in distance]

[wind gusting]

Hmm?

[singing in Russian]

[singing in Russian]

[Ivan speaking]

The sink.

The toilet. And...

the bed,

which is either

surprisingly comfortable

or I'm just

really f***ing tired.

A lamp.

A candle.

Apparently, they lack confidence

in their power supply.

Well, you better hope not,

'cause if the lights

go out, so does the heat.

I think you'd like it here.

I'm going bear hunting.

Have you been drinking?

Copiously.

All work and no play, huh?

I'm trapped.

[exhaling deeply]

Wanna see an old telephone?

Send me a pic, okay?

Let's talk later?

[computer beeping]

[sighing]

[sighing]

You're not a good man.

[door opening]

[door closing]

What is that?

A gift.

In case you've

decided to hate me.

To change your mind.

A candle?

It's the thought that counts.

That's what we say in America.

Do you?

What?

Hate me?

[panting]

[panting loudly]

[gun cocking]

Ooh, ooh.

[chuckling]

[all chuckling]

[car door closing]

[all laughing]

[sighing contentedly]

[all laughing]

[dogs growling and barking]

[dogs growling and barking]

[dogs growling and barking]

[growling]

[roaring]

[dog whimpering]

[dog whimpering]

[pilot]

Mr. Hill.

How's the weather?

Better.

So, today?

Tonight?

Tomorrow?

- Maybe tomorrow.

- I'll see you at 11.

[dialing]

[Pyotr speaking

Russian on voicemail]

I'm flying back to

St. Petersburg tomorrow.

You better f***ing be there.

This is my new number. Call me.

[railway crossing dinging]

[train whistle sounding]

[moaning]

[panting heavily]

In Russia, we have

these things we drink from.

We call them glasses.

Your parents?

My father Sasha,

mama Nina, Ivan,

Maxim, my older sister Olga.

Vladimir wasn't born yet.

This?

That's in Australia.

My sister Olga,

and this is her husband.

They run a

travel agency in Brisbane.

I worked for them.

That's how I learned English.

And then?

And then...

my mother died.

A stroke.

Four weeks later,

my father followed.

Someone had to run the caf,

so I came back.

But what about your brothers?

[scoffing]

My father would've

set fire to the place first.

Same outcome, only quicker.

Come.

You could stay here

longer if you wanted.

I'm not asking you to.

I'm just saying

I would not object.

I have a situation

in St. Petersburg.

I need to address it.

Pyotr and your not-spying?

You are in some

sort of trouble, I think.

In Russia, if we don't

want to answer a question,

we just ask one in return.

Is... is it true,

what they say about Anton?

What do they say about him?

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