All language subtitles for ධණටා

Every time you step
on that battlefield,

you are not only fighting
for your country...

Let's fucking go.

...you are fighting for
that man next to you.

Mosul has a new
player on the board.

Massoud Danawi.

A notorious weapons
facilitator out of Lebanon.

I know who Danawi
was meeting with.

Hamid Al-Jabouri.

Now we have a chance to
take down a known terrorist.

Agency has lead on
all things Al-Jabouri.

Oh, you got to be
fucking kidding me.

Jabouri's an asset, isn't he?

Find Al-Jabouri.

We take him alive.

Ben, what the fuck?

We got a key fob.

Bedside table, looks
like an initiator to me.

He went for an initiator.

♪ Well, Mama told me ♪

♪ When I was young ♪

"♪ "Come sit beside me ♪

♪ my only son ♪

♪ and listen closely ♪

♪ to what I say ♪

♪ And if you do this ♪

♪ it'll help you
some sunny day ♪

"♪ Ah, yeah" ♪

This is some bullshit, sir.

'Ttention!

Report.

Hut! Salute!

Lieutenant Hastings, Chief
Edwards, reporting as ordered, sir.

-Mo?
-Yeah?

You were in the room.

My focus was on the girls.

I didn't see anything.

Okay.

And I was in the third floor
hallway when I heard the gunshot.

But I know that Edwards is a
sound and trusted operator.

He had to shoot Al-Jabouri
to end the fight,

then it was warranted.

-Amen.
-Stop.

I appreciate what you
boys are doing. I do.

But I did it.

I buried that motherfucker,
and I would do it again.

End of story.

I came into the room.

Chief Edwards then informed
me that as he tried

to restrain the HVT,

Al-Jabouri fought for
Chief Edwards' sidearm,

forcing the chief to fire

-in self-defense.
-No.

His reactions were in line
with standing ROEs, period.

It won't keep you out
of their crosshairs,

but it'll keep
you out of prison.

They're covering
for each other.

Charlie Platoon heads
home in three days,

and Chief Edwards has
been confined to quarters.

Confined?

He fucking murdered
a protected CIA

-asset, Commander.
-Enough!

In order to temper the
drama and keep this

from spiraling out of control,

I think we all know the
appropriate compromise.

You want to take his bird.

An example needs to be made.

Fifty-eight weeks.

Fifty-eight of the hardest
weeks ever designed by man...

...to become a SEAL.

Eight weeks prep.

Three weeks basic orientation.

First three phases,
seven weeks each.

SQT, 26 weeks.

Only one in five men

who attempt our pipeline
make it through.

Twenty percent.

What it takes to earn this pin

might seem silly to most.

Especially folks like you.

But the Trident is the most
tangible sign of membership

to the most exclusive fraternity
on planet fucking Earth.

And when my men die,

the dead carry their brothers'
Tridents with them to the grave.

So let's be clear.

That's what you're
taking from him.

You're not just taking some
bird off a man's chest.

You're stripping
him of his soul.

The ambassador
supports my decision.

Then the Agency agrees,

on one condition.

It can't just be Chief
Edwards that burns for this.

We want the chief

and at least one other
officer in charge.

It should be me.

They want a lieutenant,
it should be me.

He's my friend.

He's my fucking swim buddy.

Yeah, and he's my chief.

I'm the one who put
him in that room,

knowing how personal it was.

Ben's as sound as any of us.

Are you sure about that?

You look closely enough,

you'll see those
strings vibrating.

What are you talking about, man?

He's finally getting
his act together.

Prepping for his E-8
exam. New wife. New life.

Yeah, your life.

That's not Ben
figuring his shit out.

That's him wanting
what you've got.

And he's not you.

You think for one second I'm gonna let
you and Ben take the fall without me,

then you haven't learned shit
since our college days, brother.

I'm done.

You're done?

The fuck do you
mean, you're done?

I mean I'm ready to get out.

I have been for a while now.

Oh, bullshit.

Raife, you're a frogman. You
were born to be a frogman.

Come on, brother. You're the
reason I got in the teams.

Yeah, well, there's
a time to serve...

...and then there's
a time to walk away.

I've just been closer to
the latter for a while now.

That's not a reason to leave
the fucking teams, Raife.

Yeah, well, that's the one
I'm willing to give right now.

Don't leave your platoon to
take on ISIS without you.

They're a savage
and dangerous enemy.

Alpha needs their leader
to face what's coming.

And the teams'll be
fine without me, eh?

They got James Reece.

Along with this warfare insignia
comes the responsibility...

...of maintaining
a moral compass

that reflects the trust

that we put in you to wear it.

You've broken that trust.

Fire it up, boys!

Chief Edwards!

Hooyah, Chief Edwards!

Lieutenant Hastings!

Hooyah, Lieutenant Hastings!

Thank you.

I guess I don't
need this after all.

Just so you know,

that's to scale.

Aw...

Nah.

Wait.

Roger that.

I'm getting you
back in the teams.

I know.

Watch out for our boy.

Ladies and gentlemen,
your attention, please.

Flight NH658 to Munich

is now ready for boarding.

I am being honest
with you, Dad.

It was my decision, okay?

I just... needed you to
hear it from me first.

Dad.

The Hastings have been
through worse, eh?

Son, we'll fight this.

Yeah.

Well, the fight's over.

We are sorry to inform you

that flight 2404 to Chicago

has been cancelled.

Fuck me.

-I'll call you when I'm back.
-Raife.

Fuck.

Cancelled.

This day keeps getting better.

Fuck this.

We deserve a decompression
stop anyways.

Hotel's on me.

Yeah?

I got some options before
our connecting flight.

Hear me out, please.

Alright. We rent a
couple motorcycles

and we take Germany's
Black Forest High Road.

Hairpins for days.
I got a 100cc Vespa

with your name on it.

If that makes you uncomfortable,
I'll let you on the back.

Doesn't like it. That's fine.

Concierge swears by this.

River cruise on the Main.

Most romantic thing you
can do in Frankfurt.

Alright, he doesn't like
the water. That's fine, too.

Number three.
Struwwelpeter Museum.

Creepiest kids
book ever written.

Look at this little fucker.

Never trimmed his
fingernails. Look at that.

It's disgusting yet enthralling.

Take a peek. For me.

You know, I think you're gonna
have to be careful, Chief.

Because I think Amy

is gonna have a
proper fucking shit

when she sees that you've spent
a month's wages on this hotel.

Let me worry about Amy,

you worry about that next drink.

You know, man, I don't
know what to say.

I'm not gonna apologize for
what I did to Al-Jabouri.

I'm not.

But I am sorry for
what it did to you.

Alright. Next 12
rounds are on me.

Take your time.

Two Blanton's. Neat, please.

Put those drinks
on my tab, Julia.

Thank you for your service.

Gratitude.

Is it that obvious?

Well, we tend to stick
out in places like this.

1st Cav?

Garryowen.

Mm. Nice.

Thank you for your service.

And for the drinks.

I know your team
clipped those zip ties.

What'd you say?

Staging that scene
at Al-Jabouri's.

That's a pro move.

Your task unit tried to
cover for Chief Edwards.

But one of the girls in
the room gave a statement.

She said...

a bearded warrior shot
Al-Jabouri and another

knelt down to touch his hand
when he came into the room.

I'm the guy who made
that statement disappear.

You're Agency.

Look...

...I need two shooters
for a time-sensitive op.

What you did to
Al-Jabouri tells me

that you're willing
to do what it takes

to make an actual difference.

And I find that exciting.

Plus, you're fresh.

I don't need to lose
time with a workup.

And?

And...

you know my target.

Massoud Danawi.

I'm offering you a chance
to finish what you started.

Take out the guy who provided
a bomb that killed your friend.

Or you go home.

Civilian life awaits you.

That, uh, general discharge

makes it tough to
find a job, though.

And your gift is a few
years in the fleet.

Logistics and supply
on a big, grey ship,

thankful they don't
give you a loaded weapon

to play with anymore,

because you'd probably
turn it on yourself.

Look, I have a window.

Danawi's in Europe,
working for Iran.

I need to know why.

So, either you work with me now,

do right by the job...

...and you get a fast
track back to the teams.

And an honorable discharge.

Or...

Or you risk Danawi
going back in the wind,

continue to put your
brothers downrange in danger.

I'll give you till
tomorrow to decide.

I don't need the night.

I'll see you back at the room.

Not going with your friend?

No.

He can make up his own mind.

Rules of engagement?

Flexible.

How long's the job?

Your friend wants in.

Yeah, well...

...he doesn't know
the CIA like I do.

Mtulivu.

Right?

That's what they
call you back home?

Huh?

Swahili for

"the calm one."

Unshakeable. Constant.

Calm and collected, no
matter the circumstances.

How do you think that's gonna serve
you in the office cubicle, Raife?

I guess we'll find
out soon enough, eh?

You know what happens to men like
us in the civilian world, Raife?

Hmm?

The sheep

that we once protected

and that once admired you...

...they see your teeth,

your claws, the...

God forbid they
hear your stories

and learn the things
you've done...

...they start to look at
you with fear in their eyes.

That's first.

Then it's pity.

Until, finally, they don't
even look at you at all.

I don't blame you
for being worried

about stepping to this side.

I know your family's history,
I know their experience

with the Agency in Africa.

Is that supposed to
give me some comfort?

I've been you.

I know what it's like to
try the civilian world

and to walk away from
a job unfinished.

Every time I closed my
eyes, I saw one thing.

The fight.

And everybody still in it.

Everybody still
out there, hunting.

Men like us...

protectors, defenders,
sentinels...

you're either in the fight

or you're thinking about it.

And the guilt you
carry for walking away?

It's that thing that's driving
you in this pool tonight.

That?

That never goes away.

It's just another
couple weeks, babe.

I've barely seen you
since the wedding.

I know.

Well, can you at least tell me

where you are?

Amy, I need to do this.

Then I'm home.

Look, I got to go.

I'll call you when
I can. I love you.

I love you, Ben. Be careful.

Bye.

Old man took another
run at you, didn't he?

Knew it.

Jed Haverford.

If that's even his real name.

You know, I don't know why
you're in such a rush to get out.

This guy gives a shit.

And wants to bring us to Danawi?

We have a chance to
bury this motherfucker?

Then I'm in.

I couldn't live with
myself if he walks.

And find out Reecer and the
boys get shot up downrange.

Is that why you're
doing this... for Reece?

Fuckin' A right.

For Reecer, the boys, me.

You too.

Listen...

I know why you did what
you did with Al-Jabouri.

But if we do this,

that cannot happen again.

Ben, I need to know that
you can find the brakes.

Understood?

Understood.

You have my word.

Then let's go finish this.

Fuckin' right.

Let's go.

Gentlemen. Leave the bags.

Go see Tal. She'll check you in.

You Tal?

Sign the two sets of papers
on the table in front of you.

You can read it, but it's a
pretty standard form, you know?

Allows us to rack
you over from DoD,

slap you with some
Title 50 privileges

and lets the Navy know you'll
be playing with us for a minute.

Your accent... Israeli?

And your accent... confusing?

Yes, this is a
joint Agency-Mossad

sanction unit.

Okay.

Drop your wallets,

those Gatorz and G-Shocks

in the box.

Here are your new IDs.

Hmm.

It's okay, mami, you get
it back when you're done.

Like prison.

Edwards.

Gentlemen, Tal Varon.

Mossad Cyber and Forgery.

You never said this
was a joint operation.

I said I work against Iran.

Mossad being here
ain't a big leap.

Come on. Follow me.

Danawi came into our
orbit via Artem Golubev,

a Quds Force financier
out of Istanbul.

Now, this meeting represents
an intersection of the ratlines

that move weapons
across the Shia Crescent

with Tehran's financial
couriers in Europe.

Question is why is Danawi

-so far north?
-When's the meeting?

Tonight.

Tonight?

Artem will be in Krems.
Has a big crush on this DJ.

He follows her all over Europe

like a total stalker.
But he's rich,

-so, apparently, he gets a pass.
-Tal, stay on point.

Artem requested the meeting

and exchange with
Danawi at this club.

We have somebody inside.

So once you get there, they'll tell
you where to go and what to do.

What's outside the club?

Cobblestone streets
and alleyways.

Pretty quiet neighborhood.

-Weapons?
-Well, there's

security on the door,
so you can't carry.

But our colleague inside will provide
two veterinary guns when you land.

Vet guns?

May I?

Five rounds of nine.

Bolt action. It's heavy.

Five-pound trigger break.

Someone want to tell me why
we're using these fuckin' guns?

Try it.

She's quiet.

That's some James
Bond shit right there.

What's this?

Get yourselves cleaned up...

new clothes, shoes,
expensive watches...

then get back here
for rehearsals.

Tal will get you spun up on comms,
we'll run through contingencies.

So, just so I'm clear,

we haven't even
seen this venue yet

and we're assassinating
a Quds Force asset

on allied soil tonight?

In a perfect world, I want
Danawi alive for questioning.

But if I can't have him,

it's better he's six feet
under than out there.

This is the black side of
special operations, Raife.

Things move faster over here.

You end up acting on things
before you get the whole picture.

Sometimes even before
you get a canvas.

Are we good?

Capture/kill.

We're good.

Okay. Eyes and ears in position.

Standing by for green.

You're not gonna connect
us to the inside man?

Uh, took us a minute to
work our way into the club.

No need to burn it
and risk compromise

unless this thing's a go.

Fucking hate techno.

Should have brought
my glow sticks.

Reserved table
is to your left.

Somebody dance with
me on this table.

Artem. Party in the
back, two o'clock.

Yay!

Bring it on!

No, I don't... I
don't like this shit.

What, uh, what is this?

Patching us in to the
tag on the VIP table.

-Yes!
-Yes.

So, what are the
rules of this game?

The guys at that table said
they'll out drink you tonight.

500-euro bet.

There's too much
background noise, Tal.

-Clean it up.
-On it.

...fucking table?

Don't get cocky.
You're already

four pints behind.

I never lose.

They're on!

Then you better step it up.

-Seems like a good time.
-Yeah.

I'll feel better when we make
contact with Haverford's asset.

Fifty bucks. Bet.

Bartender, cauliflower ears.

Too obvious.

Old fellow with the
peacoat, 12 o'clock.

It's way too hot in here for
that coat unless he's carrying.

Let's hope he's our asset.
That is a fucking big boy.

It is a big boy.

Rules are rules.

Target's arrived.
Danawi inbound.

Headed for the rear entrance.

Danawi exiting with a two-man
security detail. A third,

the driver, is
waiting in the car.

Oh, lovely.

Where the fuck are our guns?

Great question.

A pint of ale for the Rhodesian
and a lager for the pirate.

Your credit card, Hastings.

Keep up appearances.

Yes, we allow smoking.

You two strike me
as cigar lovers.

Op is on.

You'll see me slip a sedative and
diuretic cocktail into Danawi's drink.

Once he excuses himself
to the restroom,

you intercept, deal with any
security, and escort him outside,

to the back alleyway
where Tal is waiting.

Your entry was good.

Now the real work begins.

What the fuck just happened?

You owe me 50 bucks.

Fine.

She's one for one.

Elvis is in the building.

Danawi and two security guards.

Rear entrance.

They're carrying.

Easy, chief.

I'm good.

That motherfucker...

Massoud, my friend. Please.

Take a seat.

The money.

Please, for me. It will look
more suspicious if we don't sit.

Need more on the table, Tal.

Copy. Pushing it.

Better, right?

You have to listen
to this DJ's set.

-She's my girl.
-It's fucking on.

Seen, like, 15 of her shows.

-Let's fucking go.
-You know what,

I'll get you something
to drink. Honey?

-Another, uh, vodka cranberry for me.
-Cranberry? Mm-hmm.

Exactly. And, uh...

-...whatever my friend wants.
-Nothing for me.

It's bottle service.

Your friend's already
paid for everything.

Take advantage of it, babe.

I said I don't want anything.

A sparkling water for my friend.

You have my next stop?

You get instructions
with the transfer, okay?

So our networks stay
anonymous in these lines.

Give me my money and we're done.

You mean... now?

Now.

Thanks.

Exchange in process.
We need to move.

Drinks inbound. Get
ready for intercept.

All set.

Better?

-Your drinks.
-Thank you.

Give it to someone else.

It's paid for.

You drink it.

That's the second time tonight

you've concerned
yourself with my drink.

Once is chance.

Twice is something else.

Take it, leave it. I don't
give a fuck. I was being nice.

Well...

let me be nice to you.

On your feet all night
in a place like this?

You need it more than me.

Drink it.

Come on, friend.

Leave her alone.
You're being paranoid.

-Fuck.
-How do you think

I've stayed alive
for so long, friend?

-Coming to you.
-No.

Thank you for your kindness.

♪ I'm so done with it ♪

♪ Keep me out of reach...

I'm expecting a huge tip, babe.

Huge.

I'm sorry.

Friendly.

♪ Now you're getting
on, aren't you? ♪

♪ But you know all the scars...

Danawi's rolling
deeper than we thought.

At least four.

One was pre-staged before we
arrived. He just made Ben.

Come on, now. Stay up.

Ben, do you read
me? You're made.

Get down.

I got you.

Good.

Status report?

Give me a fucking second.

Danawi's preparing to move.

Hey.

Drink this.

Good.

Good.

The driver is moving inside.

Assuming that's for you.

Copy. Let's go.

Is it still a go?

Eliza.

Sitrep.

Still a fucking go.

The op is still on.

You go overt and bring
me Danawi's phone.

Guard inbound.

Moving.

Moving.

Danawi's exiting.

You're my hammers now.

Everyone is a fuckin' nail.

Killing the car.

Tal, they're coming to you.

Fuck. They went left.

Hold here.

We'll pick Danawi up as he exits

-the alleyways.
-Eliza,

switch to SSE. We
need that phone

and any intel for
the next target.

And clean up the scene.

LT?

Are you coming, chief?

On you.

Shit.

Your dogs are on the hunt.

Tal, get over here. We
need to clear the scene.

Good boys.

No survivors, or
we're compromised.

Fuck.

You get him. I've got Danawi.

Fuck. Three fucking rounds.

One down.

Tal, where to?

Walk me in.

Copy you, Ben. Sending
you Raife's location.

In a hundred meters, turn left.

Copy that. LT,
what do you see?

Loading the last body,
then leaving the scene.

Raife, what's your status?

Edwards is coming to you.

Tal, connect me
to the CCTV feeds.

Copy. On it.

Raife, status? Raife?

Tal.

Police are three minutes out.

Body retrieval complete.

But we still don't
have Danawi's phone.

Copy. Go find the cowboys.

Blue, blue.

How many rounds you got left?

Three.

One.

Cover me while I
close the distance.

Easy day.

Moving.

Move.

Fuck the brakes.

Congrats on the
audition, boys.

Grab his phone, return to base.

♪ Make his fight on the
hill in the early day ♪

♪ Constant chill deep inside ♪

♪ Shouting gun, on they run
through the endless gray ♪

♪ Oh, they fight,
for the right ♪

♪ Yes, but who's to say? ♪

♪ For a hill, men
would kill, why? ♪

♪ They do not know ♪

♪ Stiffened wounds
test their pride ♪

♪ Men of five, still alive
through the raging glow ♪

♪ Gone insane from the pain
that they surely know ♪

♪ For whom the bell tolls ♪

♪ Time marches on ♪

♪ For whom the bell tolls ♪

♪ Take a look to the sky
just before you die ♪

♪ It's the last time you will ♪

♪ Blackened roar, massive
roar fills the crumbling sky ♪

♪ Shattered goal fills his
soul with a ruthless cry ♪

♪ Stranger now are his
eyes to this mystery ♪

♪ Hears the silence so loud ♪