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-Good morning, Mr. McLaughlin. -Good morning.
A bit of a weird question here, but look at this.
T-42 or T-4-2. Does that mean anything to you?
It could be an abbreviation for a city block, or a street name.
This refers to Lake Tegel.
It's just north of Berlin.
My family have a boat over in Tegel, T-26.
T for Tegel...
-Twenty-six for the spot. -Yeah.
Great. Thank you.
Fuck.
It's good to see you, little brother.
Moritz.
I knew you'd find me.
MOABIT
BRITISH SECTOR
Don't bother.
No whores today. We're closed.
I am a cop.
I just want to talk.
You're too young for a cop.
And you're too young to work in a whorehouse.
Can you answer a few questions for me?
Do you have any food?
I might.
Come on, then.
You know, you are a much better cop than you think, Max.
Stop this crazy shit, Moritz.
Let's just go home.
Your wife and son are waiting for you.
Jimmy.
He needs you.
I can't.
You know, we should have died in that kitchen
over 20 years ago, little brother
but...
we were spared.
Spared for something.
Moritz.
I know about Dachau.
I know what you did.
I know what you saw.
It's okay.
-I understand. -No, you don't.
-I do, Moritz. -No, you don't!
No, you don't, because you can't.
You know what I did before I left Dachau?
I lied down in one of the mass graves.
I don't know why, I
I just felt like I had to, Max.
I... I was lying there amongst...
the bones and the skin and the eyes of...
the murdered, and
there was this boy.
He was just like Jimmy.
About the same age.
And I looked up at the sky,
and just then...
dawn broke.
They spoke to me, Max.
They spoke to me.
This is not you.
This is not you.
I know you.
Moritz
and this isn't it.
This isn't you.
You gonna help me avenge them?
-No. I'm not helping... -Come on,
of course, you already are. You cleaned up every trace
-in a court of law. -Fuck, no. This is wrong!
Don't. You're not supposed to do that, Max.
-This bastard deserves a trial! -He deserves to die
-Just like everyone else! - to be part of our story,
Max and Moritz!
-No! -We did this shit!
-No! Fuck that! -Turn off water! Turn off the water!
You're not supposed to do that, Max! You're not supposed to do that!
No more tricks.
The only...
Had your hopes up there for a minute, didn't you, Nazi boy?
Listen up, Alt-Bayern girls.
The faster you answer our questions,
the faster you'll get out of here, okay?
-Leopold! -Elsie!
Me and two others we've found a way out.
Escape.
There's one thing left to figure out.
I'll be home to you soon.
-When? -Saturday.
You can't do this. It's too risky.
I went by the hotel this morning in case we missed anything.
Good afternoon, Comrade.
Trude,
could you take this little lady and get her water before we talk?
With pleasure.
Hey.
Didn't anyone tell you you're in the wrong sector with that hat?
Fuck you!
-What the hell? -You hear that?
We gotta do something.
-He's just fucking drunk. -He pulled his fucking gun.
What?
Here.
Shit.
Now you fucking care? Yeah!
Fuck you!
-Mom! -Max!
Mom!
You little fucking cunt!
Don't shoot him!
Are you okay, little brother?
You gotta help me cover this up, Max.
I need you to do that for me, okay?
Remember this?
Mom used to read it to us so we could keep her language.
Yeah.
Mom's gone,
but this book's still here.
Put your hand on it.
MAX AND MORITZ
I swear we'll always have each other's back.
"I swear we'll always have each other's back."
MAX AND MORITZ A STORY OF SEVEN BOYISH PRANKS
Anyone need a coffee?
Trude, can you bring back some Nescafé?
Only real cops get Nescafé!
Screw you, too.
Morning, Max.
Hey... what's going on?
You're the waitress...
Karin.
Hello.
My name is Elsie,
-and you already know Gad. -And who's he?
That's Max.
He's American.
Go, Dodgers, go!
A Dodgers fan? Wow.
You have my heart now.
You speak English.
Of course. It's useful.
What's your name?
Cassandra.
Cassandra.
Means "to shine" in Greek. Did you know that?
Where's your family?
Sorry.
Do you know what the women at the hotel do?
They fuck men for money.
Yes, they do.
We're looking for a woman,
perhaps you know her.
Her name is Karin,
and we really need to find her, she knows someone who is really bad.
His name is Engelmacher. Have you ever heard of him?
So you never heard the women at the hotel talk about him?
Not once?
Are you afraid someone's going to hurt you if you talk to us?
I'm not afraid.
I'm bulletproof.
CHOCOLATE BAR
You tell us what you know about Karin,
and all this chocolate is yours.
I can... tell you where he lives.
YOU ARE NOW ENTERING THE BRITISH SECTOR
That's where I once saw Marianne go.
Okay. Here's our British backup.
I don't want them to take this.
They don't give a shit, but we need them, 'cuz I don't wanna walk into
another goddamn anti-aircraft gunfight again.
Gad, stay with her.
Take care of her. You and me, let's talk to these Tommies.
Good job.
Gentlemen, Max McLaughlin. Who's in charge?
-That'd be me. -Alright. Thanks for coming.
It's right there.
Open up! This is the British army!
If you can hear us, open the door!
Open it.
A gynecologist's chair.
He helps women.
It's all empty.
Someone cleaned the place.
You're all good. The entire flat is secure.
Sorry for wasting your time.
-Thanks for coming. -No problem.
This is fucking embarrassing.
We should get your people in here.
Search for prints.
We missed him.
Shit!
What was that?
You get the door.
Don't shoot.
It's the mailman.
-Thank you. -You're welcome.
What?
That's what I love about this town.
You can bomb it, occupy it,
divide it into sectors, but the mail gets delivered.
"Dr. Hermann Gladow."
-We have a name now. -We do.
Please, I have two daughters.
-I'm all they have. -This is a blessing.
Every time I see a little girl,
I see an entire family.
I assume you know who I am?
And you consider me a criminal.
No.
But I help people.
Mostly women.
No.
Careful.
They come to me when no one else cares.
And, if it is against the law to help them,
then I'll break the law.
You women did not need this war
which men forced upon you
and then lost.
But I say
the future belongs to you,
the women.
No more "Children, Kitchen, Church"
like in The Third Reich.
That's why I'm helping you,
so this city becomes a better place.
And will you help me?
Yes.
I'll help you get back to your daughters.
But what do you want me to do?
Just tell me everything.
Okay. This is our guy,
Dr. Hermann Gladow,
gynecologist.
Pass it around.
After talking to the director of the medical register
over in Charlottenburg, I've learned
that Hermann Gladow is 51 years of age,
and that he's originally from Stuttgart.
All right. We're almost there.
Good job, everyone. Gold star to Gad over there.
And tomorrow, after we finish compiling
everything we have on Gladow,
we'll share this information with all the precincts,
including the ones in the French and the British Sector.
And the Russian sector?
Fuck the Russians. They're on a need-to-know.
Also, I want to continue
interrogations of the girls from Alt-Bayern.
All right,
back to work.
And please remember,
be here at nine sharp tomorrow
to go through everything one last time.
What is it?
Nothing. Just...
we've got a good crew here.
Great people.
I'll see you.
Look, a cigarette.
Wow, great.
Hey.
Come here.
I want one, too.
Can I have one, too?
-Thank you, Mr. America. -Thank you!
Yes, thank you.
Look, I have one, too.
Please, don't hurt me.
Put this on.
And what did we find out today?
They know your name
and your face.
And they know about your brothels.
Yes.
And what else?
They think she killed two American GIs.
and a German girl...
-and... -And?
Anything else?
And that you helped Karin.
Did you hear that, Karin?
Why would I do something like that?
I love the Americans as much as anyone else.
Right, Karin?
Yes,
of course, nobody loves the Americans more than you.
See?
LEAVING US SECTOR BERLIN
Do you have information about Tom Franklin for me?
That's not why I'm here.
Then why are we talking? I'm a busy man.
There will be an escape from Hohenschönhausen.
Tonight.
Escape is not possible.
How would you know this?
I think you know.
He's going to escape.
How very German of you, betraying your own kin.
I am saving him.
I've seen your guards, the dogs, the barbed wire.
I want my husband alive.
More importantly,
you want my husband alive.
HOHENSCHÖNHAUSEN PRISON
RUSSIAN SECTOR
Is it loose?
Yes.
One moment, please.
Phone call for you, Mr. McLaughlin.
Yeah?
Yeah, I received the terrific news about the Angel Man,
and took the liberty to pass it on to my boss, General Howley
And he told me he wanted to have a little chat with you tonight.
-Tonight? -Yeah, at the cocktail.
Christ, you forgot, didn't you?
-Of course not. -Of course not.
I hope you remember you're supposed to investigate George Miller tonight.
-Yeah. -Good.
So you'll take a little detour to his house on Swan Island.
Apparently, there were flights out of Berlin...
flights that no one has a record of.
And it's impossible for planes to take off without a paper trail.
OFFICE OF FLIGHT OPERATIONS
It's the Army, for Christ sake's.
I got it.
If you find anything,
you go to the US military court
and you tell them that George Miller
sells out his country to clear his personal gambling debts,
and that makes him a goddamn traitor.
-Okay. -See you tonight.
So this mess is because of you.
Maybe I was wrong about you.
Maybe you're not so lucky.
Or maybe I am.
Maybe all this happens because that's exactly what I am.
I tell you that we shouldn't get rid of Trude yet.
She could be of more use.
She's a widowed housewife who works as a cop.
Yes, and?
She said the officers are gathering at the precinct at nine tomorrow
to talk about you.
And the American will distribute the evidence
to all the other precincts.
I think we can take them all out at once.
Maybe...
what happens now...
will force you to change into something stronger.
BLESSED
Wait here.
OFFICE OF FLIGHT OPERATIONS
Breakfast in Berlin, huh?
I just spoke to your wife.
She says hello.
That wasn't meant for you.
We got the names and addresses of all the Alt-Bayern Hotel girls?
Good.
Why did you want to meet here?
I thought you'd appreciate the music.
I think he's pretty good.
What is it you wanted to tell me?
-It's not a rash. -Who did this to you?
Russians.
They took me
after I walked Green Eyes home.
And then they made me talk.
About what?
About you.
You told them about Leopold.
I'm so sorry.
I really tried...
I really did...
but it hurt so much.
Should've kept your mouth shut.
I wish to God I never said anything.
Don't say that.
God didn't protect your family or this city.
God doesn't care about you,
so don't waste your time on him.
Waste it on us.
Aim,
set,
fire!
German soldiers are soft.
What just happened,
you didn't fool death.
I did.
So whose party is this, anyway?
The Vice Council, Tom Franklin.
-Oh. Nice chap? -Jolly nice chap, actually.
McLaughlin! Get over here!
...every European country into an American market is...
-Guns? -Money.
Takes a lot of green to bribe a continent, Tom.
Can we talk?
The war's been good to us,
with the GNP doubled between '40 and now, the unemployment's down.
-How much? -I'd say $20 billion US.
But not a bribe. An investment.
Mark my words. Max McLaughlin, Bob Travis.
-Pleasure. -Max is NYPD
here in Berlin on assignment, and Bob's O.S.O.,
because Europe's too important to be left to the Europeans.
Let me just check in with Claire,
make sure everything's not falling apart.
Meet me in my office in one minute.
Can't wait.
So,
O.S.O.?
Officer of Special Operations. We used to be O.S.S.
Spies, right?
Intelligence.
So your work here,
does it bring you much to the Russian Sector?
Excuse me, Bob.
-Mr. Max. -Mrs. Claire.
So?
I found flight logs. Records of 15 secret flights.
George.
How did you know?
Can't tell.
They're going to ask me tomorrow, you know, the military court,
-when I turn over the evidence. -Just say that you heard a rumor.
A rumor?
There's nothing but in this town. They'll believe you. Trust me.
And not a single word to a single soul
until we hear what they're going to do about this.
So...
let's party.
Tom. If we book the Engelmacher
I'm going home.
Let's revisit this tomorrow,
okay?
And the exquisite subtlety
of the figure's contrapposto is sublime.
It's, to me, perfect.
-Franklin. Pardon me, ladies. -George.
At first, I thought you somehow suspected me,
but then how would you know about this, right?
What do you mean?
There's something goddamn not right
because those 15 flights were never scheduled
-or logged or anything. -George, yes, I hear you,
and we'll get to the bottom of this first thing tomorrow,
but for now, you need another drink. Scotch and soda, right?
...darling. Not there.
No. Take it to the other room. Two of those...
The city has never looked so sweet.
Off we go.
Madam, this way.
The second time I catch you staring.
Ladies and gentlemen,
the moment has arrived, what we've all been waiting for.
Gather 'round.
Come on, don't be shy.
Now,
please cut the cake any way you like, General Clay.
Well, Claire,
then I guess I'll take what I've always wanted.
Claire.
Max.
I want more.
I mean it. I want more of you.
Claire...
I'm leaving.
I need to go back to New York.
I see.
Goodbye, Mr. Max.
Pretty potent stuff in there, so handle with care and all that.
-Much obliged. -Of course.
Max.
Tom.
Thanks for the invite.
Party's been... great.
All right.
Thanks for the party. So, we'll talk tomorrow, yeah?
-I was thinking about it more... -Sure thing, George.
Tomorrow.
Fucking traitor.
I'm going to grab a scotch.
Scotch, please.
-Max McLaughlin? -Yeah.
BLESSED
So... it's blessed now?
It's Dad's gun.
We're going to need it.
But... don't worry.
-It's still blessed. -What are you doing here?
What do you think, Max?
I'm going back to New York.
Maybe you should, too.
What's worse than the Third Reich?
Hmm? Who is worse than a Nazi?
Stop these fucking games, Moritz.
It's not a game, Max. Just a simple fucking question.
Who's worse than a Nazi?
-No one's worse than a Nazi. -No.
That's not it.
-The Devil. -No.
No, see, because the Devil was an angel,
who had the fucking balls to challenge God,
failed, took the fall, and he's been in hell ever since.
The Devil?
Yeah, he's okay in my book.
-Who's worse than a Nazi? -Moritz, I don't know,
and I don't care because I'm leaving.
The one who helps the Nazis is worse, Max.
What are you talking about? Who helps Nazis?
-Over here! -Let's raise a glass!
Come on, little brother.
-Over here! -Follow me.
Hey. Does this have anything...
You're the cop.
You still care about right and fucking wrong, Max?
Subtitles: Andrés Jiménez www.plint.com
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