- Jeremy Taylor: Are you Mr Martin?
- Mr. Martin: That's me.
- Jeremy Taylor: May we sit with you?
- Mr. Martin: It's a public place.
- Jeremy Taylor: I'm told that you know the Malavi region very well; better than you know the palm of your own hand.
- Mr. Martin: No. Leave the palms of my hands out of it. It'd be impossible to know that region in depth.
- Ana: Who would know it, then?
- Mr. Martin: Only the Gaevis know it well.
- Ana: That's just who we're looking for.
- Mr. Martin: The Gaevis? Well, in that case, you people better look for somebody else around here.
- Jeremy Taylor: But I was told that you trade with them...
- Mr. Martin: So what about it? Even the Americans deal with the Russians without people making a big thing out of it. And, anyway, I always use intermediaries.
- Jeremy Taylor: I must go into that region. And I need a guide, supplies and a couple of hundred men to help me out.
- Mr. Martin: If you're really loaded... if you're loaded with a lot of cash, you'll find two or three desperate men ready to go with you and run any risks.
- Jeremy Taylor: Unfortunately, I don't have the money.
- Ana: His daughter was kidnapped by the Gaevis.
- Mr. Martin: When was that?
- Ana: Many years ago.
- Mr. Martin: You'd better forget about it. Anyway
- [looking at Taylor's amputated arm]
- Mr. Martin: you should know all about them.
- Mr. Martin: How dare you talk to me like that. You're just a filthy opportunist, a parasite earning a living trading with people who devour women and children. You disgust me. Let's get out of here.