Original subtitles

REIN: That wreck you see standing there, that's me.

Officially a widower.

And a journalist.

Not exactly a cheerful start to this story, I get that. But okay.

If you want to believe in fairy tales, you should go to the Efteling.

As a young boy, I grew up with those guys.

With the scum.

Later, I wrote about them, in newspapers and magazines.

My book 'The Nose' sold almost 450,000 copies.

You'd call something like that a bestseller or something.

Yeah, what do I know. That was back then.

Now, I'm mostly just completely messed up.

Sanne told me to only give you this when it was completely ready.

REIN: Every war has a beginning.

The moment when the spark sets everything on fire.

Looking back, it always seems so logical and explainable.

A carved-out moment in history.

In reality, it's often just bad luck.

Just watch.

Fuck.

No, stay with me.

What's wrong?

Baby. Fuckers.

Motherfucker.

ROMANO: Belgian.

Hey, kid. Get Stille and Doner.

Kifesh? Why? What do you mean why? Start walking, fool.

Go home.

I feel a bit s... Not now.

What the fuck? How are you talking? Idiot.

Hey.

We're being ripped off.

That was sick, man. Stille.

Stress inside. Where's Doner?

Taking his parents to Schiphol. Fucking Turk.

Where's Muis?

Jallah. Come, come.

Phone off.

Youssef, phone off.

Phone off.

PRINCIPAL: Gentlemen, I’m ready. Come in.

Hi. Good afternoon.

PRINCIPAL: That’s why I think it’s good to have this conversation with you present.

Because this can’t go on like this any longer.

From VWO to VMBO in just two years.

That’s almost...

Put your phone away, put your phone away. Sorry.

No, I’ve heard that one before. “Sorry” won’t get us anywhere.

No, you’re right about that.

But what I’m trying to say is: At home, he really does his best.

I believe you, Mr. Tahiri.

But since the start of the school year, Youssef hasn’t attended...

the first lesson of any subject. And it’s already November.

Moreover, he called his German teacher Hitler...

the gym teacher a cancer fag...

and his social studies teacher a filthy little slut.

And then, of course, we also have the little incident with the fire hose...

Oh, you think that’s funny?

I don’t see the humor in it, do you?

Do you? Or am I missing something here?

Hmm?

I need to go to the bathroom. Youssef.

Sorry, Mr. Tahiri...

but in this case, I see no other option but to suspend him.

I’m sorry.

ROMANO: Hmhm.

Hey, listen. Someone is trying to track our stash.

There’s a car in front of the warehouse. It’s not ours.

They’re definitely going to try to rip us off.

Tsk, man.

Where are they?

They’re stopped at the gas station, man.

ROMANO: Here, go to the warehouse. Make them fuck off.

Put a tracker on that car. I want to follow them when they leave.

Scare them a bit.

POTLOOD: Definitely, Mr. Dijkman.

As soon as I have the annual figures, we’ll wrap it up.

Then we can officially file it.

Yes.

No, no, this time the coffee’s on me, Mr. Dijkman. As promised.

Alright. Have a good day.

You’re welcome. Goodbye.

CUSTOMER: I’ve just been puking the whole time.

TAMARA: Awkward.

Speaking of awkward.

Hi, darling. What are you doing here?

Nothing. I just thought: I’d drop by for a bit.

See how you’re doing.

MUSIC: ANDRÉ HAZES - A LITTLE IN LOVE

Girl, I can’t wait to see you.

Daddy has something to take care of first.

So, what do you think?

Yeah?

MUSIC: ANDRÉ HAZES - A LITTLE IN LOVE

No matter what I told you, I’m emptying that damn display case.

That cop comes in and grabs me like that, man, completely nuts.

Who do you think you’re talking to, bro?

Get that cancerous thing out of my face, man.

Are you sure? Of course, I’m sure, bro.

I’m not doing anything without a gun. I’m no damn sitting duck.

OK, Ieniemienie, are you ready or not?

Look at this guy, wassup. He thinks he's going to football camp or something.

What's going on?

Do you maybe know where Garage Hennie is?

Hennie? Kifesh Hennie? What the fuck, Hennie.

I don't know any Hennie, mate. There's no Hennie here. Drive on, ask someone else.

It should be somewhere around here, bro.

Hey, bro. Start walking, before this one fucks you up.

Sorry, man. Yeah, sorry, for sure. Say that to your fat fucking mother.

What did you say?

Kifesh, what did you say? Look at these guys.

All of a sudden acting tough, what the fuck?

Hey, didn't you learn to listen properly at school?

With that ugly fucking face of yours, huh?

He said: Greetings to your fat stinking fucking mother.

Fucking whore.

Is there a problem, mate?

Your mother, you.

REIN: You can't be serious.

In the North?

Yes.

Yes, yes, yes.

Yes, no, I understand that.

Two guys executed. Are you sure about that?

Yes.

OK.

Thanks.

Hey, I was watching something.

REPORTER: Everything points to it being...

a settlement in the criminal world.

It doesn’t seem like the outburst of a jealous husband.

What we do know now is that the car was completely burned...

and that two bodies were found in the car.

What stands out further is the unusually high level of violence for the Netherlands.

The perpetrators went wild...

with automatic weapons and Molotov cocktails.

That’s really frightening.

NEWS READER: Sander Paulus, thank you.

Aleppo in the North, that sounds like the title of your new book.

Sweetheart, right now I only have ONE job, and that’s you.

Jesus, is that how you see me? As a job?

That’s not what I meant at all. You know that, right?

Yeah. I know.

Oh, yuck. Couldn't they have given this some flavor?

It looks like sperm.

But it’s not half as good as yours.

REIN: The Pope, once good friends with Romano, but now his own boss.

Freelancer, let's say.

The load of coke he had invested in...

was intercepted in Rotterdam.

No coke, no cash.

But that doesn’t exist in his world.

It should have been a simple rip-off deal.

It turned into a battlefield.

THE POPE: What are you looking at, fatty?

Bro, this is fucked up, man. Do you think I don’t know that?

I just lied to my aunt...

because she wanted to know why her son was in that car.

What are we going to do? What are we going to do? What are we going to do?

We’re going to get them back.

Get them back? Yeah.

Who took who, then?

Bro, if you want to start a fucking war with Romano, then...

Then what? Huh?

Then what?

What were you going to do? So you want to wait here?

Huh? For the next shipment.

Until all our people have switched over to the other side.

That's not what it's about. Then what is it about?

Two mothers have lost their sons.

Is this how we do things now?

No one told me anything. Bro.

No more 'bro'. We bled.

Now they are going to bleed.

That fucking nigger never took me seriously. Never.

And Pencil with his fucking bitch.

Who told you to bring Molotovs?

I told you: Scare them.

Not: Blow them up.

We fucked those bastards in their asses.

They started it.

How did you think it was okay to bring Molotovs?

MUTTERS: "Big Boys from the Hood." What?

"Big Boys from the Hood."

A documentary about men from France.

ROMANO: A movie.

A fucking movie.

We just wanted to scare them.

Stille placed the tracker.

We were just going to throw the Molotovs next to the car, nothing serious.

They started acting crazy.

We had to respond.

Belg was right.

IN THE BACKGROUND REIN: You okay, baby?

SANNE: Goddamn it. Good, let it all out.

REIN: Take it easy, I'll be right back.

A bit narcissistic, huh?

Sorry, I... Excuse me, we don’t have the real thing.

I've been sober for two years since my wife caught a chronic cold.

I’d give my pinky for the real thing. A nice vodka on the side.

Sit down.

What can I do for you?

By the way, I don't think it's narcissistic, you know.

Of course not, if I ever write a bestseller, I’d do the same.

I'm going to sound like a groupie now.

I once wrote a book report at school about The Nose.

It wasn't considered literary enough according to my advisor.

He thought Holleeder wasn’t a subject worth paying attention to. What does he know?

So, you're the new crime journalist?

No, no, I’m interning at the editorial office.

I just graduated with my master's. Do you work with Rob?

I work for Rob. If there's a shitty job, I’m Rob’s little slave.

Am I a shitty job?

No, no.

What does Rob want to know?

Well, actually, some background information about the hit.

Which angle we could look for perpetrators.

Tip ONE: Never call it a hit.

That's what civilians call it.

No matter how bad it is, we always talk about a liquidation.

And record it on your iPhone. Do you have one?

If you're writing in your notebook...

you can't look them in the eye. Then you never know if they’re lying.

Sorry, though.

Hello? Yeah.

Do you think this is old-school crime?

Those guys are almost extinct. And they’re never that clumsy, you know.

Eastern Europeans? Romanians or Armenians.

Could be. Yeah, could be. But with what motive?

They always keep their affairs in order.

If someone steps out of line, they handle it quietly.

Besides, right now, they’re active in human trafficking.

If this had happened in the Red Light District, I’d say: You’re right.

The Italian Mafia? No way, crazy.

The Italian mafia. No, no, no.

The "Mocros"? Shoot each other up so brutally?

They're crazy. But that crazy?

Fucking idiots.

Who do you think it was?

No. No? No.

Why not?

He has his own line, right? It got intercepted.

Come on, man. He knew the day, time, and location.

The only ones outside of us who knew that are Jack and the Pope.

It definitely wasn’t Jack.

Fucking Pope.

We need to do something.

He’s lost two men.

If other assholes hear they can test us, we’ll be dealing with this forever.

And those two guys, that’s not my fault.

I’m not taking responsibility for that.

I’m not saying that. I’m just saying if we go after them now...

Where does it end? Hm?

Let me talk to him. You?

Neutral ground.

He’s gone too far.

We’ve tapped him on the fingers.

He pays the fine, we’re square. It’s over.

What did she say? Who?

Tamara, buddy.

Of course she said 'yes'. Look at this guy, bro, look at him.

Which girl would ever say 'no'?

Congrats, brother.

Is it arranged? The stuff is safe.

For sure? Hundred percent.

From Romano. For today.

We really couldn’t do anything about it. Really nothing.

Doesn’t matter.

NADIRA: Hey.

Do you want tea?

I’m tired. Tired.

I’ve never heard you say that before.

Go to sleep.

REIN: Two victims. Mounir el Hams and Farid ben Saleh.

How do you know this?

A buddy of mine at the technical police.

They just got the dental records in.

The police aren’t allowed to release names until the families are notified, right?

That’s why you’re not using this in your piece.

So, it was the Mocro's after all.

And Rob thought they weren't organized enough for that.

Yeah, that's why Rob is still writing about petty criminals.

Do you know Romano Tevreden?

A Surinamese guy. He's not a Mocro, right? He invested in the rats.

He did that smartly, I have to say.

In no time, he had a whole soccer team running around.

Isn’t he the guy from the DSB bank heist? Exactly.

He started with small robberies, smash-and-grabs.

But soon runs for the big boys.

Stealing cargo from the harbor, that sort of thing.

After that DSB heist, he ended up on the national wanted list...

and since then, he's been missing, vanished into thin air.

About a year ago.

One says he's hiding in the attic of a coffee shop.

The other says in the back house of Anne Frank’s house.

They call him the ghost of the East.

And coke makes the most money. He must have noticed that too.

Are you going to do something with this? Hmm?

Are you writing a new book?

I’ve started so many new books.

What if we do this together?

What do you mean, together?

Yeah. Look...

You can't really leave the house, right? With your wife and everything.

What if I become your eyes and ears on the street?

You tell me where to go and I’ll do it.

If I need to interview someone or whatever, I’ll do it.

For you. For a book or...

... to impress the editorial team. Yeah, that too.

But you write the pieces or the book or whatever you envision.

As long as my name is on it. That’s all I ask.

Come on, Rein. In two hours with you, I’ve learned more...

than in three months with Rob. This could work, right?

REIN: Like I said, criminals are timeless.

A pen is also a murder weapon.

But more on that later.

Hey.

REIN: It wasn’t an identity mix-up...

as the press spokesperson later so elegantly put it.

Not a case of mistaken identity. No.

It was a declaration of war. Delivered in broad daylight.

The beginning of what the media would later call 'the Mocro Mafia war'.