All language subtitles for bravery-law.and.order.s01e20.1080p.bluray.x264_track3_[eng]

Narrator:
In the criminal justice system,
the people are represented

by two separate yet
equally important groups—

the police
who investigate crime,

and the district attorneys
who prosecute the offenders.

These are their slories.

Well…

Well, what?
They're late!

When you deal
with the feds,

you know it's gonna
get screwed up.

Hey, Roberts,
what's your guy in for?

Aw, drug smuggling,
gun running.

He's Lebanese.
He brings the drugs in,

takes the guns out.
Sometimes the other way around.

He's an entrepreneur.

Great. How do you know
he's gonna sing?

We got six months of footwork
hanging on his testimony.

We got the DA to go to bat
with the US Attorney.

He can't wait
to play canary.

Mine's innocent.

Yeah… right.

Mr. O'Connell says he's
a political prisoner,

unfairly held
without trial.

Ours claims
he's being persecuted
because he's Cuban.

The mick says it's because
he's Irish—

and belongs to the IRA.

They should send them half
back where they come from.

Max:
What about italians,
Damalo?

Italians is different.

Gentlemen.
After you, Max.

Hey, Roberts!

Looks like your entrepreneur just
went into Chapter 11.

What the hell
happened here?!

Logan:
Take another
from the other side.

Get a wideshot
of the three of them.

Smile, fellas.

Officer:
Come on, pal, let's go.

Who's in charge?

I'm senior.
Detective Sergeant Max Greevey.

Special Agent Axelrod.
What the hell happened here?

Three guys
shackled together.

One of 'em's dead.

Houdini routine.

The two other guys
never saw a thing.

Just what I freakin'
needed today.

All right, let's get all you Sherlock Holmses
down to the Federal Building.

Whoa!

Why's that?

Why's that?!

Because a federal prisoner's
dead, that's why.

And that makes it our case.
Doesn't play that way.

They signed all three of them over to us
at the Federal Detention Center.

Our prisoners, our case.

- Show him the paperwork.
- Worthless bag of crap!

Six months I put in
on this case, six months!

Look, gentlemen,

all we want to know is,
who's responsible?

I'd say it's either
Montez or O'Connell.

Roberts:
I'll find out

Gimme 10 minutes alone
with these two jerks,

- I'll pound it out of them!
- Hey, hey!

Hey, Roberts, thanks anyway,
we'll beat our own prisoners.

What I meant was,
who's jurisdiction are we in?

NYPD's.

Fine! You get the stiff.

They're back in federal custody
as of now.

Wait a second! I got signed paperwork.
I need O'Connell.

I got six Westies
upstairs on trial.

O'Connell's IRA, why do you need him for
a case against the Westies?

What difference does it make?!
He's been subpoenaed!

Gentlemen, gentlemen,
I think we need to prioritize.

Prioritize my ass!

I'm senior on the scene,
it's my homicide!

I got a witness
to interview.

I have an investigation
to start.

This is ridiculous,
you do what you want.

I'm taking these federal prisoners
back to the detention center. Now.

You just let the feebs waltz off
with two homicide suspects?

You think we should have
had a shootout over them?

The FBI has no right to interfere with
a homicide investigation!

They are federal prisoners,
Captain.

Signed over to us!
They had no jurisdiction.

You have any idea what this
investigation is going to be like now?

What's the problem?
They gotta wanna close this.

What's the problem?

He's never worked a case
with the "G" before?

They don't cooperate.
They think they're God Almighty.

A case with
federal prisoners involved?

Every time you even want
to see one of them,

you gotta see the superintendent of the facility,
genuflect going in and coming out.

I want this thing wrapped up fast—
like yesterday!

What gives, Montez?

You spoke English
just fine last week.

No comprendé.

Yo sabes qui, muerto…

Uh… qui muerto Mustafa?

- Tu?
- No, yo! Yo sabes. O yo muerto.

Tu sabes, o tu muerto?

Where's the damn
interpreter?

I think yo means "I."

- What?
- You're saying "I killed Mustafa."

Then you do it!

No, tu…

- Ooo-oooh!
- Having trouble?

He's in culture shock.

Como esta?

Ahhh, no es mi culpa.

He says he's not guilty.

Of course,
tell him we believe him.

Well?

You don't want to know.

Basically, he's not talking
until his lawyer gets here.

Let's try the mick.

I'm sure there were a couple
of Logans down Dingle way.

One had the pub, the other
had the funeral parlor.

That about covers it!

O'Connell:
They were staunch
republicans, the Logans,

they fought
for the Republic of Ireland.

Not like your republicans
in America.

About the dead Arab?

There's some Greeveys
in County Mayo—

where's your family from,
Sergeant?

Hell's Kitchen.
Ahhh.

Well, at least your partner
knows his history.

See if you can cover
some recent history, okay, Mike?

- No?!
- That's what I said, Sergeant.

I gave you permission
to interview Montez and O'Connell,

not the other prisoners.
Let me get this straight.

You're telling me to investigate a homicide
without interviewing witnesses?!

There were only two witnesses—
Montez and O'Connell.

Character witnesses then!
Guys who might have heard something.

- What is this?!
- What is this?

This is non-cooperation,
Sergeant.

What the hell is going on?

It's a political hand grenade.

What do you know
about extradition law?

It takes a lot of paperwork.

And a lot of loopholes.

O'Connell entered
the country in '85.

- Legally?
- No, he walked in from Canada.

The British issued a warrant
against him for terrorism.

So the FBI pops him,
they bring him here.

So why didn't you
put him on a plane?

He found the right judge.

Ruled that whatever he had done
was not "common crime,"

but related to the IRA's political goal
of a unified Ireland.

- A federal judge said this?
- It gets worse.

INS goes
to immigration court,

immigration judge
orders him deported.

But he's still here!

Because the minute
the deportation order comes down,

he applies
for political asylum.

So if he did kill Mustafa?

Off the record?
If we have to bring him to trial,

or if we need him
as a witness against Montez,

then he has to stay here.
Nobody wants that.

Maybe nobody with
a federal paycheck wants that,

but me, I'm just
a cop after a killer.

All I'm saying is, obviously
it's not that cut and dried.

You got a federal judge
who says it's political.

You telling me you buy that Blarney Stone crap
he's been spewing?

You know, it's weird. Two of our grandparents
come from the same town.

We've both got uncles
that's priests.

And you're both Libras.
That's destiny for you.

What's the matter with you?

Nothing. I just never seen you get so chummy
with a perp before.

Perp? Come on, Max.
What do you want, huh?

10 to one? 20?

You that sure it's Montez
who did it, huh?

- O'Connell never killed anybody.
- No?

- No.
- Why is he in a federal facility as a terrorist?

- Accused terrorist. It's political.
He's never even been charged!

What are you
talking about, Mike?

He's been in the can
for five years!

That's right!
held without charge,

without trial,
without bail, huh?

Makes you think,
doesn't it?

Think what?!
He's a bomb-thrower! He deserves it.

You know how I'd feel
if that were true.

O'Connell's never thrown
a bomb in his life.

The man's a thinker.
He's an organizer. He's a patriot.

Oh, for the love of God,
where'd you get all this?

From my uncle—
the priest.

But then he's always been
full of that "blarney stone" crap, too.

I don't give a damn about
the feds' image problem.

I want one of those two birds
in here with or without translator,

but with legal counsel.
I want him to fink out the other guy.

- It's the Cuban.
- What is?

He's already
put Montez away.

Irish intuition.

Why don't you just
get his sheet instead?

Hey, 10 bucks says
it ties him to Mustafa.

Maybe you could also
take your intuition

over to the deceased's
place of business. You know,

check out the vibe,
if that's not too much trouble.

Mrs. Mustafa?

We're sorry
about your husband.

Why?

- What has happened?
- You haven't been notified?

About what?

Aw, Jeez.

Ahmed's dead,
Mrs. Mustafa.

We're sorry.

Ma'am…

Pay up!

What's that,
a signed confession?

Montez, Savino Joaquin.

Born in Cuba,
blah, blah, blah.

- Convictions?
- Twice, murder two.

Both by strangulation.

Let me guess.

Coroner's report
on Mr. Mustafa.

Crushed larynx,

broken windpipe,
strangulation.

Montez…

five— no, make that six
possessions of heroin.

Twice with intent to sell.
Now that's in the free world,

God knows what kind
of pranks he pulled in Cuba.

And Mustafa was
a heroin dealer.

We establish a relationship
in Leavenworth, we got motive.

You straighten out the feds yet,
about interviewing the other prisoners?

- No.
- We'd like to clean it up ASAP, Captain.

You know, the way
you wanted it?

- We want to move on Montez.
- That won't be necessary, gentlemen.

What are—

What is he
talking about?

According to him,
there is no homicide case.

Oh? And why is that?

Mustafa's not dead.

Don't laugh. The "G" has Elvis at
Terminal Island in California.

Oh, a miracle!

See, once I saw the coroner wrote
"crushed larynx, DOA,

dead as a doornail,"
I was convinced.

Nevertheless, he's still alive as far
as everyone on his rolodex knows.

Why the hell is
that so important?

Because I said it is,
Sergeant.

It's national security.

Mustafa had his greasy fingers
in a lot of pies.

He was helping us.

Certain people find out he's dead,
we're back to square one.

Don't worry—
you're already there.

We already told his wife
he was with Allah yesterday.

Cops.

Unless you got some other
fairy tales you want to tell us,

we're gonna see Montez,
because he's convinced Mustafa's dead.

Max:
I don't believe it!

God Almighty,
wasn't anybody watching him?

We can't watch anyone
24 hours a day.

Son of a bitch.

It looks like Montez checked out,
but you never know anymore.

What is that
supposed to mean?

Nothing.

No, really.
What was that crack?

Just that you feds can bring guys
back from the dead. It's amazing.

So, uh…

I guess we'll call it
an accidental hanging, huh?

I guess we'll call it what the coroner does
when he gets here.

Why don't you stick around
in case this stiff comes back to life too?

I still have a homicide
to investigate,

and I expect you
to start cooperating!

Like I told you before,
Sergeant,

you're free to interrogate
O'Connell to your heart's content.

But the other inmates
are still off limits.

Two prisoners under your jurisdiction
are no longer with us!

One, Mustafa—
as you're so fond of reminding me—

he was murdered
on your turf.

Look, we've each
got a job to do,

it's nothing personal.
I'm telling you,

you're dancing very close
to obstruction of justice.

You don't loosen up,
I got no choice.

I go straight to the DA.

Look at that groove
on his neck.

Ligature marks.
From a bedsheel?

Not in my lifetime.

I'd say rope, since there were
fibers embedded in his neck.

So Montez was strangled
and hung up with a bedsheet.

Wouldn't jump to any conclusions
before the autop.

You authorized the guards
to cut the body down?

He was laid out
by the time we got here.

Mucked up a perfectly nice
crime scene.

Don't they teach
these people procedure?

Hmpf. There's always some new guy
who hasn't read the rule book.

We know he didn't
do a Dutch act,

so why is he dead?

Payback from
Mustafa's posse?

Or somebody wanted
to shut him up.

The feds fake a suicide?

Shelby look like
the type to, uh…

host necktie
parties to you?

How about your buddy,
O'Connell?

What about him?
The guy's a political theorist.

This is nickel-and-dimes.
Junkies and pushers.

Come off it, Mike!

You forget why O'Connell
was going to court?

I grew up with the Weslies.

Nice, polite altar boys.

They make the sign of the cross
when they slit your throat.

Oh, come on!

O'Connell's gonna have you believing there
are no snakes in Ireland.

There aren't any.

Touché.

Okay, first we check
the Arab angle,

then we do the mick.

"Moved to Beirut."

Gee, some people
get all the breaks.

Let's check the garbage.

Yeah.

Oh-hh! Oh-hh!

God! How could anyone
eat something

that could even get
to smell like that?

Bingo!

Looks like a breakdancing
chicken wrote this.

Thank you, professor.
We'll send them right over.

It didn't used
to be this hard, Mike.

It used to be a lot simpler.

In the old days.

In the old days.

Hey, Max.

They're having a fundraiser
for O'Connell tonight.

Let's check it out.
Where?

McBride's.

McBride's— that's the bar the FBI
popped O'Connell in, in '85.

Excuse me, watch your back—

and watch your hands.

Excuse me.

Ugh.

Something stronger
this time?

Just another soda.

Haven't seen
you boys before.

We just came by to see what all
the O'Connell excitement was about.

I'm Sheila.

Mike Logan,
I'm Max Greevey.

Greevey? Would you be
the County Mayo Greeveys by any chance?

Afraid not.

My mother's
half Irish, though.

At least you won't be
hitting on me with a derry can.

Derry can?

Londonderry relief—
for all the widows and orphans

of Catholics taken away
by the British.

Oh, for the love of Mike.

Man:
Here's to ya, Pal!
You're one of the lads now!

Who's the birthday boy?
He looks familiar.

I like cops—

but only when
they're off duty.

Was it that obvious?

Anybody offering you
any undercover assignments?

Look…

I'm sorry. I-I—

we didn't mean
to upset you.

My husband was a cop…

in Belfast.

Oh?

Somebody shot him…

one night, after
a IRA man had been shot,

or maybe it was
a British soldier.

It was just one of those nights
and somebody had to die.

It's all so bloody stupid.

I'm sorry.

Are you going after them?

I don't know, maybe. Right now,
we're just wondering about O'Connell.

You don't know?

The IRA is everywhere.

It's in the prisons,
on the streets,

maybe… even in
your own precinct.

The Provos,
the Sinn Fein…

they're all the same
bloody thugs.

The birthday boy—

McCarter—

he's a prison guard.

The translation of the faxes
from Mustafa's apartment—

a lotta talk about "bricks"
being moved out of Lebanon.

So what? We already know
he was into drug smuggling.

One of the faxes talks
about a shipment of clay

from Libya to the Netherlands.
Libya's a desert.

You don't find a lot
of clay in the desert.

Plastic explosives?

Last month, the Dutch police

arrested three IRA guys
in a safehouse in Amsterdam.

They found 100 pounds

of plastic explosives
in the basement.

I got one for you, too.

The birthday boy, the one the waitress
said was a prison guard?

McCarter.
Patrick A. McCarter.

He's a federal prison guard.

And guess what?

The report on Montez says
he was the first one at the scene.

He's the one
that cut Montez down.

That's enough for me.

McCarter!

Patrick McCarter, you're under arrest
for the murder of Savino Montez.

You have the right to remain silent
and refuse to answer questions.

Do you understand?

Anything you do say may be used
against you in a court of law.

Do you understand?
You have the right to an attorney.

If you can't afford one, one will be appointed
to you by the court.

Do you understand?

The kid might have
ties to the IRA,

but he's a brick wall.
He won't talk to us.

Max:
More like Mallahan
won't let him talk.

Robinette:
Daniel Mallahan?

Boy's got himself
a pretty expensive mouthpiece.

Big surprise—

Friends of Sinn Fein
are footing the bill.

He's bought and paid for.

"Friends of Sinn Fein,"

that's as subtle
as a Mickey Finn.

We're in court
against the IRA.

And if by some miracle
we do turn McCarter,

are you sure that he can implicate O'Connell
in Mustafa's murder?

Montez was
the only witness,

O'Connell had a compelling motive
to have him shut up.

All right,
we'll twist McCarter.

Thanks, Max.

We may have bitten off
more than we can chew.

Mallahan knows
the case is thin.

Look on the bright side.

What bright side?

We're not in Boston.

McCarter was fired from Sanitation
for petty larceny. No charges filed.

Makes him an ideal candidate
for a job in a federal detention center.

He had a little help
getting hired.

Letter of recommendation
from Liam Kildairn.

Commissioner Shannon's assistant?

Our Mr. McCarter's plugged in.

Stone:
Mr. McCarter, who got you
your job in the Bureau of Prisons?

That information
is not within your purview.

Was it your IRA friends?
Who recruited you?

My friend's allegiances are
not at issue.

His membership
in a terrorist organization is.

I'm no terrorist—
I'm a soldier.

What he means is,

he is a man of conscience.

What he means is,
he is the misguided, romantic dupe

of those who consider him
completely expendable.

This interview is over.

Sit down, sir,
I'm not finished!

You were just
a common thief, Patrick,

now you're looking
at murder.

Counselor, if you have
any relevant questions…

You're way beyond the protection
of those who got you into this.

You talk to us, we're ready
to offer you a plea bargain.

My client is not
looking for a deal!

You don't have a lot
of room to dance, Patrick,

no matter what
your lawyer told you.

You're 22 years old,
do you really wanna

spend the rest of
your life in prison?

He is not interested!

Mr. Mallahan,
I'd like a word with you.

If you want this kid crucified,
you're making all the right moves.

Are you questioning
my professional judgment?

- That depends on who your client is.
- Patrick McCarter!

- Regardless of who pays my fees.
- That better be true,

or I'll drag you before the disciplinary committee
of the Bar Association!

And tell them what? That I'm making you work
for your paycheck?

Now, listen to me, Counselor,

you're not going to run-and-gun some
cheap plea down my client's throat!

Your client is facing a murder rap!
The rope we found in his car

matches the marks
on Montez's neck.

And the same kind of rope
you find in the prison machine shop!

It's all circumstantial.

It's not circumstantial
when you have a fiber match,

and hair from Montez
on the rope in McCarter's car.

I guess we'll have to wait
and see what a jury says.

You and I both know
he was the only guard

on the floor for 45 minutes.

That's enough to bury him,
and bury him I will—

along with you
and your Sinn Fein money.

When I present your conduct
in this case before the bar,

and your clear-cut
conflict of interest,

you'll be lucky
to have a licence!

You, uh…

you want to present
some options

to my client…

go ahead.

You won't get any
argument from me.

McCarter says he killed Montez
on orders from O'Connell.

- Orders?
- O'Connell is his IRA superior in the chain of command.

McCarter thinks
of himself as a soldier,

a loyal member
of a long-standing army

that has been under arms
in one form or another

since the battle of the Boyne—
and that was about 300 years ago.

- You researched this?
- No, it was spoonfed to me.

My Grandmother was Irish.

Fahey. She thought it
was a holy war.

Michael Collins,
Robert Emmett—

she'd recite those names
like they were saints in heaven.

I suppose in the time,
they were.

But the likes of McCarter
and O'Connell, they're thugs.

They're Nazis with brogues.

You're worried putting
O'Connell on trial

might give him legitimacy,
turn him into a martyr?

To a fanatic, a trial is just
an opportunity to win converts.

How solid is his case?

McCarter says that he'll testify

that O'Connell admitted
strangling Mustafa—

but that's my problem, 'cause it all depends on
the kid's testimony

and I'm afraid he'll go
in the tank on me.

O'Connell threatened
to have him tooled if he talked.

- To have him what?
- It's the newest weapon in the IRA arsenal

They kneecap a man
with a power drill— he never walks again.

We can protect him.

He ever give you any indication
of why O'Connell killed Mustafa?

No, and that's another place
we're vulnerable—

motive.

O'Connell and Mustafa,
they moved in a very shadowy world.

And the faxes that Greevey
and Logan found at Mustafa's,

they make a connection,
but it's nothing I could prove.

Might know someone who can.

Jenny, get me the British consulate.

Adam said you needed some information
on this Mustafa fellow.

We're looking for
links to O'Connell.

As you know, your FBI has
worked up a whole dossier

on IRA dealings
with the Lebanese.

More to the point,
with Ahmed Mustafa.

No, sir,
we didn't know.

Oh? The counter-terrorist division's
had him under surveillance for some time.

Mustafa was a conduit
for weapons to the IRA.

- What kind of weapons?
- You name it.

He's even suspected of supplying them with
surface-to-air missiles—

of the same type that shot down
one of our helicopters a short while ago.

The Syrians are
involved along the way.

But your FBI
will have all that.

Paul, find out who the head
of the anti-terrorist division in New York is.

That's a chap
named Axelrod

Syrians, IRA,
Lebanese,

Red Army,

Baader-Meinhof, Libyans—

you poke a lamp
under the sheets,

and you'll find
strange bedfellows…

doing some very
nasty things together.

Talk about a guy
with his own agenda.

Because Washington wants
O'Connell off page one.

He's become
a political tumor.

The man's a suspect
in a homicide.

He did a Lebanese
drug dealer.

An inch and a half
on page eight.

What, not enough
soundbite appeal?

Mr. Robinette,

there are 43 million
Irish-Americans in this country,

some of whom wield
enormous political weight.

So we ignore murder
to save ourselves

the international embarrassment
of holding a terrorist without charges?

Look, come next week,

he's probably going to be
granted political asylum,

and then he's going
to be old news.

You put him on trial,
and you give him a pulpit.

It's a whole new concept—

crime without punishment.

What's the matter with
you guys in the DA's office?!

Got no peripheral vision?
Can't you see the big picture?

We're just not blinded by it.

Five years of unjust imprisonment,
wiped clean in under 10 minutes.

Is that an indication that
a civil suit may be pending?

There'll be no more
legal beagling, ma'am.

I've been given asylum in a country
that truly is the cradle of liberty.

I just want
to get on with my life.

The British petitioned
for your extradition to face charges.

Anything you'd like
to say to the House of Commons?

Kiss me rosie Irish bum,
gentlemen.

No bitterness
toward Capitol Hill

over being held for five years
without any charges brought?

If there's a bitterness,
I can't find it.

All I can feel is a sense
of gratitude.

The American justice system
may be slow,

but at least
it's accurate.

This should move it
from page eight to page one.

I'm looking forward
to staying here in New York—

Counselor, a word
with your client?

- What about?
- Maybe we should talk over here.

- Sir, who are you?
- You're under arrest for the murder of Ahmed Mustafa.

You have the right
to remain silent

and refuse to answer questions.
Do you understand?

Anything you do say may be used
against you in a court of law.

And so, ladies and gentlemen,
what is on trial here

is the Constitution
of the United States of America.

Mr. O'Connell has been held
in the penal system of the United States

for five long years,
ladies and gentlemen,

without ever once having a chargebrought
against him until now.

Until the very day
of his first taste of freedom

And why?

Because the British government
is afraid.

Afraid o have
the truth come out.

Because,
ladies and gentlemen…

the life of a Lebanese
heroin pusher

is apparently
more important

than the freedom
of an Irish patriot!

Judge:
I will not tolerate this!

One more outburst
and I'll clear this court.

Are you at the end
of your blather, Mr. Reilly?

Yes.
Yes, Your Honor, I am.

Good.

Mr. Stone?

The People call
Patrick McCarter, Your Honor.

Raise your
right hand, please.

Do you swear to tell the truth,
the whole truth, so help you God?

I do.
Please be seated.

Please tell the court
your name.

Patrick
Aloysius McCarter.

And you're
a resident of…?

- New York City.
- And your occupation?

I'm a prison guard.

At the federal detention center
in Lower Manhattan, correct?

Yes.

Mr. McCarter, did you kill

a federal prisoner
named Savino Montez?

Yes.

Why?

I was ordered to.

By whom?

Answer the question,
Mr. McCarter.

The organization.

They told me to
"shut the Cuban's gob

before he talked about
O'Connell killing the Arab."

Which organization?

The provisional wing
of the Irish Republican Army.

Did Mr. O'Connell have
knowledge of these orders?

Objection, Your Honor,
hearsay.

Your Honor, I believe
that the witness

had direct contact
with the accused.

Objection overruled.

Answer the question,
Mr. McCarter.

Yes.

Yes, he did.
He told me I was performing

an act of patriotism.

And did Mr. O'Connell
personally tell you…

that he had killed
Ahmed Mustafa?

Yes, sir.
He most certainly did.

He said that he had executed
an enemy of the Irish people.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

I have very few questions
to ask of this— quisling.

Objection, Your Honor,
characterization.

Sustained.

Mr. McCarter, you admit
to the murder

of one Savino Montez
in cold blood, is that correct?

Yes.

You've been allowed
to enter a plea of guilty

to second degree manslaughter
for that heinous crime,

in exchange for your
uncorroborated testimony

against the defendant,
is that not true, yes or no?

Yes, sir.

I have no further questions.

Mr. Axelrod's testimony
goes to the very heart

of O'Connell's motive
for killing Mustafa.

Mr. Stone doesn't get it.

You put me on the stand,
O'Connell's lawyers

will cross-examine
my whole operation into the ground.

The People's interest
can be served

without jeopardizing legitimate areas
of national security.

That's cold comfort,
Mr. Stone.

I've got breathing
assets to protect.

And I've got a murder
to prosecute.

The murder of an A-rab dope-peddler,
for God's sake!

An A-rab dope-peddler?!

You went to a lot of trouble
to protect Mustafa.

Now you're going to let
his executioner walk

all because of political expediency?
To me, that's immoral.

Spare me that
sanctimonious bull, Counselor.

- I live in the real world!
- So do I, sir!

I know my way
around politics.

Mr. Axelrod, lay out for me
how this connection

between the IRA
and Mustafa worked.

The Lebanese grow opium
in the Bakaa Valley.

They sell it to the Syrians
who refine it into heroin,

and sell it
on the open market.

The Syrians
use those profits

to fund a variety
of terrorist groups.

That's including the IRA.

As long as Mr. Stone
confines his questions

to the specifics
of the IRA connection,

I can't see how national
security is compromised.

In other words,
Mr. Axelrod,

the IRA buys weapons
with Syrian drug money?

That's right.

And how does
Mr. Ahmed Mustafa

fit into the scheme
of things?

He was a cutout

A cutout?

A middleman.

The Syrians used him
to sell drugs.

The IRA used him
to buy weapons.

About two months ago, Mustafa screwed
the IRA on a major deal.

He short-changed them
to the tune of about $800,000.

And?

And the IRA high command
put out a hit on Mustafa.

Looks like somebody
carried out the orders.

Objection, Your Honor!
Supposition.

Sustained.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

Fascinating,
Agent Axelrod,

absolutely
fascinating.

But now would you mind
telling this court

exactly what that has
to do with Mr. O'Connell,

who, as we all know,
was held without trial,

without ever once being
charged with a crime,

for five long years?

The defendant is a member
of the Irish Republican Army.

And the last time I looked,
that was not a crime

under federal
or New York State law.

Can you cite
any criminal statute

that Mr. O'Connell has violated
by his membership in the IRA?

Objection, Your Honor,
draws a conclusion of law.

Sustained.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

My membership in the Sinn Fein
is a matter of public record.

It is the legal,
political wing of the IRA.

The non-violent wing,
is that right?

That's right.
We're not a bunch of killers,

despite what
the British press says.

Have you had any personal dealings
with the late Mr. Mustafa?

No, I have not.

Any business?

None.

And for the record, I might say

I abhor the drug dealing
that the man was engaged in,

I consider it anti-Christian
and anti-life.

Yet, we've heard testimony here
linking the IRA

to Syrian drug money
and Mr. Mustafa.

I don't know anything about it.
I have nothing to do with the Provos.

Ah, the Provos.

That would be the "Provisional"
or military wing of the IRA?

Yes, they conduct
their business in their own way.

I don't condone it,

but I understand it.

As I've said, we're in a war.

Sometimes one has
to make pacts with the devil.

And in this war,

you yourself have never
personally

engaged in any violent act,
is that correct?

That's so…

I've never even
thrown a punch.

Thank you very much, Mr. O'Connell.
No further questions, Your Honor.

I must say, to a civilian,
it looked rather like

you're getting your ears
boxed by Mr. Reilly.

- I didn't see you in court.
- One learns to be invisible…

when one wishes.
And deprecating.

About what?

The value of one's
own advice.

Go ahead, Mr. Fenwick.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but under
your rules of cross-examination

aren't you allowed to pounce on something
offered as fact under direct examination?

- Such as?
- Such as a witness's assertion

that he'd never
committed a violent act.

Why?
What have you got?

Mr. O'Connell belongs in jail—
your jail, our jail, it doesn't matter which,

as long as he is behind bars.
He must also be exposed for what he really is—

a bloodthirsty terrorist.

I don't need a speech, Mr.Fenwick.
have you got something I can use?

We have…

a way for you to discredit O'Connell's
contention that he's non-violent.

A way? What is that
supposed to mean?

We could supply a sworn affidavit.

You bastard!
You have a witness, don't you?

As I said, we could
supply an affidavit—

I'm fed up with
this spook crap.

If you have a witness,
get him here tomorrow

or as God is my witness,
I'll subpoena you!

She'll be here
in the morning.

- Do you consider yourself a Christian, Mr. O'Connell?
- Most Certainly.

Yet the credo of
the Irish Republican Army

seems more along the lines
of "an eye for an eye"

as versus "turn the other cheek,"
wouldn't you agree?

Is the IRA on trial here?

That depends on you, sir.

I have declared my membership
in the Sinn Fein.

Yes, you have.

What does the political wing
of the army think

when the other wing blows up
a busload of school children?

Objection!
We're going far afield here.

This has relevance
as to character, Your Honor.

Answer the question.

The organization has always
given ample warning

before a device is activated,

but there's always
the risk of human error.

Human error.

You have testified
under oath

that you have never
committed a violent act

- Never in my life.
- Never?

Never.

No more guestions,
Your Honor.

You may step down,
Mr. O'Connell.

May I ask
you a question, sir?

How, with the map
of Donegal on your mug,

did you ever end up
with a name like Stone?

Happenstance, sir.

The same way you ended up
with the name of a real Irish patriot.

Do you have any other
questions, Mr. O'Connell?

Stone:
You may step down, Mr. O'Connell.

Your Honor,
the accused has stated

in both direct
and cross-examination

that he has never
committed a violent act;

that he is a man of conscience,

a prisoner because of politics.

In view of these statements,

the State would like to call
an additional witness.

Objection!

The prosecution has rested,
Your Honor.

Of his own volition,
Mr. O'Connell has made statements

that call for rebuttal, sir.

Overruled.

Call your witness,
Mr. Stone.

Thank you,
Your Honor.

The People call
Bridget McDiarmid.

Mrs. McDiarmid,
are you married?

- I was.
- Do you have children?

I had two.

What happened to your husband
and your children?

That man murdered them.

Objection, Your Honor.
Absolutely irrelevant.

Rebutting the defendant's
sworn testimony

is relevant as to character,
Your Honor.

Overruled.
Proceed, Mr. Stone.

Mrs. McDiarmid,
describe in your own words

the events of May 6th, 1981.

John—

my husband—

and I were on…

high street,
Kensington,

on our way to the cinema
with Sheila and Tommy.

Your children?

Yes.

We were passing
a candy store—

I remember because
the children wanted to stop.

My husband saw
a man tying his shoe,

kneeling on the pavement.

That man.

When he was donge,
he got up and hurried away,

but he'd left his…

satchel on the curb,

next to the police van.

Would you describe
the satchel?

Come on. Your Honor…

Please continue,
Mrs. McDiarmid.

It was, uh…
it was black,

leather,

with a grip.

Like any businessman's
in the city.

Thank you. Tell us
what happened next.

My husband called
to the man.

You Know…

"Oy, mate, you forgot
your satchel."

And.

then he

he picked up the case
and started after him and—

And?

And he was blown to bits,
and Sheila, and Tommy,

and half the street.

There was nothing but
a shower of glass and blood.

Mrs. McDiarmid,

the man with the satchel—
are you absolutely positive,

without a question
of a doubt that that man

was Ian O'Connell,
the defendant?

You hardly forget the face
of the man who…

slaughtered
your entire family.

Take a good look.

There's your "human error."

And Mr. O'Connell's sentence
of 25-years-to-life

is a fitting conclusion
to this case.

This prosecution shows
the value and necessity

of inter-agency cooperation

on a local, state, federal
and international level.

Now, these men
arrayed behind me,

showed powerful personal,
professional bonds…

in bringing an international
terrorist to justice.

Thank you very much.