[Yuri has convinced his uncle Dimitri, a major general on the Soviet, now Ukrainian Army, to show him the armory of Dimitri's military base.]

How many Kalashnikovs do you have?

Forty thousand.

[glancing at the paper on Uncle Dimitri's clipboard]

Is that a four? Doesn't look like a four to me. Looks more like a one.

No, it's a four.

It's whatever we say it is, because no one else will know the difference. Ten thousand Kalashnikovs for a battalion... your stocks are badly depleted, Dimitri. You should order more from the factory.

Someone will work it out. What happens then?

We'll cut them in.