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We think love is declared with flowers and chocolates,

but you can also declare your love with a hammer.

Or with an angle grinder.

Kidnapping a police officer can be a declaration of love.

Saving him from the bottom of his pool

is another.

What's going on down there?

What are you doing?

-Pretend we're drunk. -No, I won't pretend.

Play drunk or I'll snap your neck.

-Have you no shame? -I'm calling the police!

I am the police, ma'am.

-That's Benito! -Do you want to call them? Ring, ring.

What are you doing?

Pretend, come on.

The house is full of them.

And so is your car.

And your wife's car.

It looks like C-4, but it's only plastic.

That's your alibi. You wouldn't be a criminal, you'd be...

a scared father, and they'll understand.

Once I get out, I'll report you and come back with 3,000 officers.

We can also use real C-4.

Anywhere you can imagine.

Don't get the wrong idea.

We don't want you to do this for money, but...

we understand the inconvenience this could cause.

One million euros.

With this money and the alibi, you're free to choose

who you want to be with.

With a woman who illegally arrests people,

tortures them,

and abuses the power given to her by the Constitution.

Or with us.

-Now you'll answer some questions. -I'll decide that.

Is Inspector Murillo alive?

She might be.

Is she in the tent?

She might be.

I just need you to let her know that the Professor knows she's alive.

She won't believe me.

If I'd been with you, why wouldn't I have arrested you?

If she sees you wearing this watch, she'll believe you.

Because when love is concerned, there's always a ticking clock.

There's always a countdown.

Loving someone is not enough,

you have to make it in time.

What's that?

-For when she wakes up. -That's a beautiful gift and gesture.

She said she wouldn't touch me with a ten-foot pole.

Let me give you a piece of advice:

don't fall in love during a heist.

It's bad luck.

Paulita!

Miss Mariv�!

MINDANAO DAY 1 OF THE HEIST

The phone!

SOUTHERN SPAIN DAY 1 OF THE HEIST

Mom?

Paula, honey.

How are you? What did you do today?

The same as yesterday, Mom.

I'm sure you did something great today.

-Tell me something. -I can't think of anything.

Do you miss me?

Yes.

What's wrong? You're watching TV, aren't you?

No, I was playing with Grandma.

Put her on, please.

OK. Grandma!

Darling?

Is Paula all right? She sounds odd.

I don't know.

She seems fine.

But you can talk to her when you come for dinner.

-Sure, Mom. -And don't forget to buy some bread.

It's six in the morning.

The ambulance is in the crime lab. In about an hour, Alberto will be there.

Like a bloodhound.

Sniffing out the trail of his new prey: your daughter.

Do you think I leave her address stuck on the fridge with a magnet?

I think�you feel guilty for being a bad mother.

You don't simply go off...

away on a heist for weeks and not call.

Am I wrong? What about your bad-daughter complex?

Because your mom...

You can't even leave her to eat a yogurt on her own.

How did you do it? How did you call from the motor home?

This may surprise you, but we thought this through.

Alberto can go in like a pig in search of truffles.

He won't find a thing.

-What happened to your head? -I'm obsessed with the heist, Colonel.

I wake up very early. I'm not sleeping.

I was tying my shoelaces and thinking about the heist,

and as I stood up, I banged my head on the window so hard I nearly broke it.

You're like me, Antonanzas.

Even with the truce, I couldn't sleep.

I was wide awake at 3:00 a.m.,

wondering how the Professor would ruin our day.

I'm going in to see if Sierra needs--

Murillo is in total isolation.

I'm only going to go in to give the inspector her coffee.

Murillo can only have contact with Sierra.

She didn't let her sleep all night. She's wearing her down.

Let's go for a coffee.

A crime's worst enemy isn't the police.

It's rushing.

The motor home was clean as a whistle.

You left it...

like new.

But the ambulance...

You hauled ass out of there.

There's always something left. Always. A hair on the pillow...

A sock...

And then forensics arrives with UV light and luminol, and... bang!

Gotcha.

I repeat my offer:

I'll go there now and remove that hair that'll lead us to your family.

Or we wait for your ex...

to fuck you over.

You've got nothing.

You're threatening me with "Maybe we'll find something."

You know what? Your pregnancy has made you so high on estrogen

that you feel like the most optimistic woman in Spain.

But that isn't meant for work. It's for the delivery,

which is fucking hard.

What will you do when it's born?

Is it a boy or a girl?

You don't know?

Poor thing.

What the fuck happened?

They were barefoot, man.

Barefoot? Who?

Rio and Stockholm.

-So? -What do you mean, "So?"

Who goes barefoot during a heist?

Taking your shoes off on a couch in the middle of a heist is weird.

Are you stupid?

If they were thinking of fucking, they'd fuck... not take their shoes off.

Well...

What were you doing in here last night?

Well, this.

-This is what you were doing? -Yes.

You beat a guy up, completely change how she sees you,

and you think giving her a heart is going to fix it?

What can I do then?

Change.

In her eyes... you're a bad guy now.

A violent guy. What made her fall in love with you?

I shot her.

I mean, I shot her in the leg to save her life.

To save her life.

I don't know.

I did a cool dance for her.

-You did a dance for her? -Yes. I danced for her.

I told her stories. We laughed a lot together.

And... how long is it since you told her stories?

Since you made her laugh?

How long since you danced for her?

Hey, Rio, can you get me a black coffee?

I came up with this plan. You're safe thanks to me.

How about some gratitude?

You're tied up. Why don't you rest?

Can I at least have some water, please?

Just a bit of water.

I'm sorry, but...

Thanks.

You look awful.

Can't you sleep?

How many times do you wake up at night? Three, four, more?

Hey, Rio...

if you need anything...

to talk or whatever, I'm here.

Thank you.

He's the weakest link.

Palpitations, excessive sweating, insomnia.

Break free during his watch.

He won't be capable of pulling the trigger.

What makes you think I won't kill you as soon as I'm free?

Well...

I smashed your head in.

You fucked my eyes up.

That's a tie. A gentlemen's agreement.

Are you asking me to trust you?

What I'm saying is, a truce has been declared out there.

No armored vans are coming.

It's a fucking cold war.

-And we are captives. -So?

You should become the agent of chaos we need.

Like the creature in Alien.

Like John McClane in Die Hard.

STORM RESERVOIR KEEP OUT

Let's go.

When he got to the storm reservoir, the Professor was thinking of Raquel,

just like Alberto as he stepped into the ambulance.

It's strange how you can think about one person,

at the same time,�in such different ways.

They say love makes the world go round. But hatred certainly isn't far behind.

You were right.

Lisbon is alive.

Where is she?

In the tent. I imagine she's being interrogated.

-How long can they keep her? -I don't know.

I don't think they'll stick to the usual 72 hours.

They'll transfer her at some point.

-Can you rescue her? -Not during a transfer.

It'd be stupid. We did it with you. They'll expect it. It'd be suicide.

What are you going to do?

They have Lisbon there with the whole plan in her head.

Including the place you're calling me from.

Professor?

I don't know.

I'm so tired, Tokyo. I can't think.

But I'll find a solution. Don't worry.

I'm making ravioli. You need energy.

-Is Palermo still tied up? -Yes.

I want you to go and tell him this...

No, I'm not telling him anything. He'd bite me�like an animal.

Well, you'll have to. Tell him exactly this:

"You have a message from the Professor. Lisbon is alive.

She's being held in the tent.

I need you to think of a way to save her."

-He won't do it. -Listen to me.

All I'm trying to do is to get Palermo to fall back in love with the plan.

I need him back on our side.

Go tell him. I'll think of something. Understood?

Understood.

I'm going to the bathroom. Want to come with me, Sergio?

Have you ever had the privilege of an experienced man giving you fellatio?

He's absolutely unpredictable.

He simply offered you fellatio, gallantly.

-He-- -You know what I mean.

He's uncontrollable. He's sick with egomania.

He'll respect the hierarchy.

He would in a heist lasting two or three hours, or a night.

We're talking about several days.

Under infinitely higher pressure.

-I can control Mart�n-- -You can't!

-I've been doing it for years. -You can't. He's an egomaniac.

He's obsessed with power.

That only means one thing:

if he's not in charge, he'll do anything to change that.

And he won't hesitate to execute, betray, or create chaos.

He's an obsessive egomaniac, he believes in himself, and he's a genius.

Like you.

If you prefer, use second-raters. They'll follow you like sheep.

You don't get it. The fact he's a genius complicates things.

He's dangerous because we won't see him coming.

You're my brother.

I would put you in charge of any heist in a heartbeat.

But him...

You're wrong to trust me and not him. I'm less trustworthy.

Two beers.

Don't get more peanuts.

You're already as overweight as an orangutan.

If you laugh at my bow tie, you're laughing at me.

If you laugh at me,

you'll remember this March 17th for the rest of your life,

but we don't quite know why yet.

Don't you find it thrilling?

Is something wrong?

Not at all.

There are prints on most of the surfaces.

The walls are covered with plans, maps, diagrams...

I see an oven.

They probably used it to get rid of evidence.

I'm going to examine it.

There are some plastic fragments, perhaps from an electronic device.

I'm separating the burnt pieces.

I think I have something.

-What's wrong? -Nothing.

So I'm a Maserati, am I?

For fuck's sake, did he put it in the papers too?

It's OK.

-If you want, I'll give you a ride. -What the hell?

It's just a ride.

"Just a ride"?

Then we push a button, erase the tape,

destroy the black box, and it's like nothing happened.

M�nica dumped me.

I'm a free man.

I don't need to erase any black box.

I'll take the Maserati, put the pedal to the metal,

and start doing�donuts until I burn rubber.

Cool as a cucumber.

-You're so macho, aren't you? -Very macho, so watch out.

In case you have to go to the garage to change the suspension.

Wait until you see the state of the chassis.

Scary.

This bastard even leaves misleading clues in the bidet.

I'm sure they planted it there.

It was�at the bottom of the oven, melted. It's impossible it was planted.

So?

A SIM card is engraved with a number of up to 19 digits,

unique to each card.

This one disappeared when it was burnt, but, during the process,

it bent over the metallic chip,

branding seven numbers on it.

We cross-checked it with data from carriers,

and we came up with 354 cards matching those end numbers.

One of them was bought three months ago and has only made one call.

During the heist.

Bingo!

Where did they call?

Wait! A little suspense, no?

Mindanao, the Philippines.

Holy shit, I knew it!

We'll talk to Interpol.

-Hello? -Mindanao, the Philippines. They know.

-How? -A half-burnt SIM card. In the ambulance.

Nothing changes for you.

You've got to go into the office now, show her the watch,

-and tell her: "I'm with you." -That I am? Should I say it like that?

Excuse me?

"I'm with you" could be confusing.

She might just think I'm weird. A communist cop.

If I say "The Professor's with you," it's clearer.

Just show her the watch. That's all.

Understood.

Get the hostages out.

-Get up and go to the stairs. -How's the pressure of being in charge?

Fantastic.

I'm all ears. I'm listening.

You have a message from the Professor: "Lisbon is alive.

She's in the tent. Think of a way to save her."

It's an order.

First you stage a coup, now you give me an order.

That's odd.�I'd say it's...

a dangerous thing to do, but it's also...

understandable, of course.

There they are, the empowered women.

This is all bullshit.

-And it's about to end. -Are you done?

What's wrong with you?

-With me? -Are you angry at your mom?

Didn't she breastfeed you long enough?

Is that why you keep on looking for something to complain about?

The order comes from the Professor. He's got a dick, just like you.

They are in Mindanao.

In 24 hours, we'll have found them.

You know the protocol:

Paula arrives here,

you're declared guilty of child abduction,

you lose custody,

and she goes to live with her dad.

Have you come to tell me I'm screwed? I already know that.

It depends.

I'll let you call them. Here and now.

And you save them.

When we get to the house in Mindanao, they won't be there.

We screwed up.

I'm not thrilled at the idea of Paula going to Alberto either.

I wonder what she's doing now.

Close your eyes. Picture her.

Tucked in bed.

Her hair spread across the blanket. You can almost smell her.

Close your eyes. Picture her.

Close them.

What are you doing?

It's only a five-year wait. Then you'll see each other again.

She comes running. "Mommy!"

She hugs you like this, wraps you up.

She clings to you like a little monkey.

And you press her against you...

and hold her face.

To look at her.

But she won't let go.

She repeats endlessly,

like a mantra to save her from the bad things:

"Mommy, don't leave me."

"Mommy, don't leave me."

"Mommy, don't leave me."

Raquel,

I know you love him. And he loves you.

For that exact reason... what do you think he'd tell you to do?

I offered you...

five years in prison. I'll change it to five minutes.

I'm offering you freedom.

Sergio goes to jail. You go free.

Your arrest was never official. Call them, bring them to safety.

You'll be with them in 24 hours.

We'll never come after you. Everything will be over, honey.

Better?

Well?

Did you get any rest?

I've tried to, but I can't sleep.

Do you have nightmares?

Every time I close my eyes, I relive it.

Hey, what happened to the alpha male? I thought you were a free man.

What are they talking about?

Hello, cutie.

Come to my island, if you like.

Provided you don't party much. I'm not really into that noisy music.

If you invite me over, I'll show you my best bikini.

Why didn't you tell us?

I couldn't.

You need to talk about it, Rio.

They took me out of my cell one night,

forced me to dig my own grave in the desert.

I'm such a sweet girl.

That's why I'm smiling all damn day.

Then they made me place a coffin in the hole.

And they made me get inside.

Then they threw sand on top.

Until I was buried.

And they left me there.

In the darkness.

In silence and barely able to breathe.

Easy.

Easy.

I'm here with you.

Do you know the only thing on my mind?

What?

It should have been the Professor being buried alive, not me.

I'm sorry.

Look.

Come on, let's go.

Excuse me a second. I'm going to the bathroom.

You don't trust me.

I'm an egomaniac.

I'll only be willing to follow my plan.

I'm obsessed with being the boss.

So much so that if things don't go how I planned...

I might become a risk, right?

Yes.

That's what I think.

You figured me out.

But there's something you haven't considered.

It's that not only do I love your brother, but I also love the plan...

to the same extent.

I would sell you out, no problem.

And the rest of the gang, too.

But I'd never betray the plan.

That's where my loyalty lies.

This is more than a heist, and you know it.

The plan isn't perfect yet. I accept that.

It's an unfinished poem.

We need you, brother.

Please.

You seemed very brave out there.

Which is admirable.

Commendable.

Come on, let me past.

You seemed very brave earlier, but now you have to prove it.

Let's see those balls.

Hold on.

Hold on.�Tell me what you prefer?

Death?

Look at me. Or impotence? Sometimes you have to make hard choices.

For me: what do I do with this jerk laughing at my bow tie?

For you: is it worth living without a penis?

He's taking a long time.

He's beating up the fat guy in the bathroom.

We would've heard something.

Real chaos, dear Sergio...

makes no noise.

Palermo was loyal to the heist.

But in his head, that only meant one thing:

for the heist to continue, he had to be back in charge.

It was his silent way of ensuring we didn't see the chaos coming.

You know what you have to do. Don't be a coward.

You have to dislocate the joint

between the first metacarpal and the trapezium.

Firmly, without hesitation.

You twist it around like that. There's no shackle it won't work on.

Don't make me have to separate you.

It'll hurt. But freedom will be worth it, don't you think?

Come on.

Don't move!

-Don't move. -Easy, kid.

I'm just a fucking security guard.

On the ground.

-No way. -I said, on the ground now.

What are you going to do? Shoot me, unarmed?

I swear if I have to, I will shoot you.

You'll shoot an unarmed father who is only trying to escape?

Go ahead.

Here I am.

Don't move!

Get on the fucking ground, Gand�a!

You won't shoot.

On the ground!

Don't move, for fuck's sake!

I said, don't move!

See you soon.

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