Robert:
[arrives at Nikolai's table and produces a pair of broken, blood-stained glasses] He's not coming back. [takes a seat] Had enough?
Nicolai:
You certainly have my attention.
Robert:
Because I can keep going. Brick by brick, dollar by dollar, body by body, or you can call your boss and tell him to shut down his operation, tonight.
Nicolai:
That's not much of an offer.
Robert:
It's the only one you're gonna get. When you pray for rain, you gotta deal with the mud, too.
Nicolai:
When you look at me, what do you see? [Robert laughs] Hmm? The answer's nothing. I have no feelings for you, one way or the other. You're like lint or a bottle cap. You're just a thing to remove.
Robert:
I knew a Russian police captain back in the day. He told me about a case he worked on. Can't remember the guy's name. He was a famous scholar, lived in Moscow. He was a humanitarian, an author. Anyway, he decided to share his abundance with someone less fortunate. And even though he had five children, he opened his home to a sixth. An orphan, 12-year-old boy. Kid had been pounded by the system from an early age. Troubled. Prone to violence. A lost cause. Stop me if you know this one.
Nicolai:
Oh, no. Carry on.
Robert:
Okay. So this good man opened his home to this boy. And when the boy stole from him, this good man loved him anyway. When the boy failed in school, this man showed understanding and patience. When the boy lied and cheated and clawed and fought, this good man showed compassion and love... until the boy, who had never felt anything like being wanted or loved, he finally did. The man had broken through. By all accounts, it was a miracle. One week later, intruders broke into the man's house. Killed the man and his wife in bed. They said some small things were stolen, things a child might steal. No one knows for sure. The man's children were sent off to relatives. The boy, the orphan, shipped back to hell. Just when he finally had a chance at life, it was snatched away by two bullets.
Nicolai:
It's a well-known story.
Robert:
They ever catch who did it?
Nicolai:
Did they?
Robert:
Maybe they didn't look in the right place. Sometimes the answer's in front of you. [in Russian] I think the boy killed them. [in English] I think the boy did it. I think the boy was scared his foster parents would wake up one day and realize he wasn't worth it, like all the others had. And he couldn't bear the thought that this man, this good man would do that to him. Would throw him away... like a piece of lint or a bottle cap. So... he decided not to find out. What do you think, Nicolai?
Nikolai:
[pauses] You think you know me? You strike me as a sentimental man, Mr. McCall. That's surprising. I... I don't possess that chip. I never could understand what comes from feeling that way, except weakness.
Robert:
The men I killed, your men, I gave them a chance. They made their decision. I'm giving you the opportunity to make yours. [writes his phone number down]
Nicolai:
Thank you.
Robert:
You're welcome. You let me know when you decide.
Nicolai:
Of course.
Robert:
I've done some bad things in my life, Nicolai. Things I'm not proud of. I promised someone I love very much that I would never go back to being that person. But for you, I'm going to make an exception. You asked me what I saw when I looked at you. What do you see when you look at me?
