All language subtitles for Infidel.2019.1080p.BluRay.x264-CAVIEZEL.SDH

(somber music playing,
woman vocalizing)

(horns honking)

(rifles clicking)

Repent, brother.

Accept Allah's word and proclaim
Muhammad as his messenger.

Should've spoken to you
more about martyrdom.

If I had, you'd be
laughing at these fuckers.

You'd be saying, "Through you,
I gain entrance into paradise."

We're not afraid to die.

That's why we're gonna win.

I'm not afraid, either.

Do your job.

♪ ♪

- (Ramzi shouts orders in Farsi)
- (men shout)

(echoing gunfire)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(rain falling)

(engine revving)

(brakes squeal)

♪ ♪

(siren wailing in distance)

(cell phone chimes, buzzing)

Doug's here.

- (distant phone ringing)
- (indistinct chatter)

- Hey, don't forget this.
- Oh.

- Gosh, thank you, Janet.
- Have fun.

Thanks.

LIZ: Guess what I got her.

Not a burka.

Now, that would be funny.

No.

A sexy gold anklet

and some belly-dancing lessons.

Oh, you didn't.

It's a joke.

(laughing): He's gonna kill her.

It's not for him.

Anyway, he's supposed
to be an American now.

There's got to be a sense of humor
buried under that beard somewhere.

You talking about him or me?

(laughs)

(both laughing)

(engine revs)

- (tires squeal)
- (Liz gasps)

- (horn honks)
- DOUG: Whoa. -LIZ: Watch out!

- DOUG: Geez.
- LIZ (sighs): Christ.

What the hell?

Oh, my God.

Excuse me.

That was a little
reckless, don't you think?

And?

DOUG: That's a
Maserati GranTurismo.

Asshole.

DOUG: If I had that,
people would like me.

JAVID: Ha!

Infidels. You're late.

- DOUG: Javid.
- (chuckles)

How have you been,
my infidel friend?

- How are you, Javid?
- Is Liz too busy

fighting the war on terror, you can't
come to Meena's graduation on time?

Oh, knock it off, Javid.

- I do trade policy.
- No, no, no, no.

You're a spy, and everybody here
knows you're a spy, so... and it's fine.

- Come on in.
- Thanks. (chuckles)

JAVID: There she is, the
most beautiful graduate.

Thank you for coming.
Thank you so much.

That's for you. Congratulations.

Oh, my God, that's so sweet.

- Thank you.
- It's okay.

(whispers): Open
it later. It's girl stuff.

- Shh.
- MEENA: Oh, I get it.

Well, he has his secrets,
and we have ours.

(Liz and Meena chuckle)

Wow. Congratulations.

(whispering)

- LIZ: Oh, am I sitting here?
- JAVID: Doug, my brother,

it's such an honor
to speak at Al-Azhar.

What did I tell you, huh?

I told you the blog post would get a
positive reaction in the Middle East.

Huh? What did I say?

Oh, you-you told me.

Thank you. And, Liz,

everyone is extremely
proud of your husband here.

Such an honor he has received.

So he must go to Cairo, okay?

Yeah, he must.

See, guys?

Faith is what unites us.

- That's right.
- And this is what Doug's post is about.

And you would understand if
you went with him to church, huh?

- LIZ: Mm-hmm.
- (Javid chuckling)

Javid, you know, you can
always go to church with me, too.

- (laughs) Yeah, right.
- (chuckles)

Of course. That's a good one.

Funny fellow here, huh?

Very funny.

What?

Who's the young guy over there?

- The one with the tattoos?
- Yeah.

He wants to date Meena.

Can you believe such a thing?

Look, I seriously would
not let him in my house.

Never mind.

There.

Thank you for coming, seriously.

- You're welcome.
- Means a lot.

Okay, everyone.

I would like to make a toast.

- With water and soda only, okay?
- (guests chuckle)

Except for those
infidels. I see you.

- You're drinking alcohol.
- (light laughter)

To my daughter, Meena.

May Allah guide your future path

in our beautiful,
adopted America.

Beh salamati, Meena.

ALL: Beh salamati.

JAVID: Cheers, guys.

Have a seat.

Food time.

- MAN: Yes, yes!
- WOMAN: I'm starving.

("Dokhtare Irooni"
by Andy playing)

(guests clapping
in rhythm to music)

♪ ♪

- (song stops abruptly)
- (hard rock music playing)

♪ ♪

(music ends)

LIZ: "Doug, my very
good infidel friend.

You're such an infidel,
but I tolerate you."

You never liked him much anyway.

But I love his daughter.

And her mother.

- (chuckles)
- She plays a dutiful Muslim wife...

Don't you think? But she's
got fire and resilience in her.

You'd have to to put
up with that bullshit.

It's a software company.

And Javid's the only
guy at work I can talk to

about international
events, politics.

Everybody else is just a bunch
of geeks who want to talk...

software.

Yeah, he's fine.

He's just always
playing the big shot.

- He's so over the top.
- Mm-hmm.

- (phone ringing)
- (TV playing quietly)

Hello?

Hello. Is anyone there?

SOHEILA (over phone): Liz?

Soheila?

Is Meena there?

Meena here? No. Why?

She left the party
with her boyfriend.

He was supposed to
drop her off hours ago.

- I'm worried, Liz.
- You're worried.

I want to call the police,
but Javid won't let me.

LIZ: Well, you know, he probably

just wants to give
it a bit more time.

It's, uh... it's
graduation, Soheila.

It's, you know...

They party. They celebrate.

It's a big night.

- Give it a chance, yeah?
- Okay.

Okay. Night. Bye.

(snickers)

Welcome to America.

(both chuckle)

Graduation.

♪ ♪

(door bangs shut)

SOHEILA: Javid?

Shut up, Soheila!

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(shuts case)

(whimpering)

(whimpering continues)

♪ ♪

(panicked whimper)

(cell phone buzzing)

Hello?

Soheila?

Uh, I will. I will.

Something's not right.

What is it?

(siren wailing)

We called 911.

OFFICER: They're
expecting you, sir.

- SANDY: Hi. Excuse me.
- Hi.

You Javid's friend?

- Yes.
- Come on in.

Stay here.

- You work with Javid, right?
- Mm-hmm.

I'm glad you're here.

You're gonna witness
how my client's rights

- are being violated.
- JAVID: This is my home!

- A good Muslim home!
- SANDY: It's good you're here.

- DOUG: Hey, Javid.
- Doug.

DOUG: It's okay.

Look at what they're doing, man,
just, like, treating us like criminals.

Mr. Rawlins?

- Yes.
- I'm Sergeant Knebel, Fairfax Police.

Yeah, this man is my friend.

He knows me, and
he will tell you the truth.

That's great.

Can you tell your client
to back off, please?

Can I talk to you for
a second, please?

SANDY: Give me a second.

- Have you seen Mr. Hosseini's daughter?
- SANDY: Wait here.

- Uh, earlier this evening...
- Don't answer that.

It's immaterial.

Meena's not here.

You don't know
where she is, right?

- Neither do the Hosseinis.
- Excuse me.

Your presence here
is entirely unwarranted.

No one here called you.

The man's Muslim, so you
enter his house without a warrant,

- without permission.
- Can you please take her?

- Thank you.
- Islamophobia.

You better not lay a hand on me.

Where is your warrant?

Do not touch me.

Soheila.

She let us in.

Look, um... these
are good people.

I've known Mr. Hosseini
for some time now.

Have you ever seen him exhibit
extremist behaviors or attitudes?

What?

No.

Come with me.

Come on.

♪ ♪

I've read your blog, by the way.

Good stuff.

Thanks.

(cameras beeping, clicking)

KNEBEL: Recruitment videos.

Beheadings.

Islamic rah-rah shit.

He's running a terrorist nerve
center or recruitment website.

Or am I just an Islamophobe?

SANDY: I'm going in there.

You don't have the
right to restrain me.

Excuse me. I am his
lawyer. Now, let me through.

(sighs) Fruit of the
poisoned vine, my friend.

You have no legal
right to be here.

Everything in this
room is inadmissible.

(chuckles) Go ahead. Keep going.

Mr. Rawlins, I'm so sorry.

I'm sure you're aware,
this is a gross violation

of your friend Mr. Hosseini's
Fourth Amendment rights.

Mr. Rawlins? Mr. Rawlins?

(siren whoops)

- Get in the car.
- Did you see Meena?

No.

Is she still missing?

Get in the car, Liz.

- (car honks horn)
- My Uber's outside, honey.

I'm leaving, Liz.

What's this?

Knocking-around
shoes with a twist.

See this?

You type your message...

An e-mail, text,
tweet, whatever, okay?

- Mm-hmm.
- Type your secret message.

Then you put this in the
drive. See it highlight?

- Mm-hmm.
- Then you delete it.

Now you write something
mundane, something like:

"Awfully sticky here in Cairo."

Listen to this. It's important.

- Then you press "send."
- Okay.

To the rest of the world,
anyone who is trying to hack

into your messages, they
will read the mundane.

But from my end, I can
read your invisible text.

Okay? By accessing
it with my own drive.

(cell phone chimes)

So this is what you do
at the State Department.

- Mm-hmm.
- Who gave it to you? Samantha?

(Doug chuckles)

- Take it, please.
- No.

Take it.

You know, she's the one
that's got you paranoid.

Travel to Egypt by high-profile
Christians is especially risky now.

That is the latest
travel warning.

So I'll be low-profile.

- Low to the ground. I mean...
- Bullshit.

You're a featured guest at
an international conference.

- Come on.
- Is it that important?

Wh-Why were you invited?

I don't know.

(chuckling): Okay.

This is how you'll
come off in Cairo:

a vanilla Christian,
ticket to Heaven punched,

with a big smile showing
how close you are to Jesus.

I am close to him.
Sorry that bothers you.

And if only those poor, lost Muslims
could feel as happy inside as you are.

You are so beautiful.
How'd you get so cynical?

I just keep thinking,
if we had a kid...

if we had a family,
you wouldn't be

running around the world
playing the holy apostle.

You'd have a
reason to stay home.

Now you're making this into
a much bigger deal than it is.

They don't answer their phone.

- Their daughter's missing.
- (sighs)

Javid is supposed
to be your friend.

He's supposedly your friend.

Supposedly.

As I've told you, he
won't talk to me anymore.

He knows what I
saw in that room.

Okay, and what
does that tell you?

He is the one that
said, "Go to Cairo.

Talk about the faith."

You're not suspicious?

I was played, okay?

I have to go.

Whatever you do, don't preach.

It's just who I am.

And I love you.

Okay, don't go. I'm asking you.

Don't go. Don't go.

I will call you.

(mouths): Bye.

(door closes)

- (engine revving)
- (horn honking)

(tires squealing)

(crash)

(metal shrieking, clanging)

(prolonged blaring of horn)

Liz.

Liz!

(blaring continues)

Liz!

(Doug coughs)

- (blaring fades)
- (siren wails)

♪ ♪

LIZ: I'm never gonna
set foot in church again.

I don't want to
see those people.

Forget about those
people. Forget them.

Liz, I see him in you.

There's nothing in me.

(sighs)

I lost my last chance
at having a kid.

We both did.

Understand this.

(breath trembling)

I'm done with God.

And if you want to stay
married to me, understand this:

I'm done with God.

(Liz panting heavily)

He's done with me.

♪ ♪

DOUG: Well, thank you very much.

I am so honored to be invited to

Al-Azhar University of
Cairo, lslam's seat of learning.

Not to talk about what
divides us but what unites us.

MUSTAFA: We are so
honored to have you here.

I have been following your blog,

your writings.

You are amazing.
I am a huge fan.

You are here because you are

a man willing to speak
honestly about faith.

And I want you to talk
to us tonight about Jesus

and help us build bridges.

Well, thank you, Mustafa.

Um...

you know, the media,
the pundits, the dividers,

they tell us we're engaged
in a clash of civilizations

- between Islam and the West.
- Yeah.

That we're at war.

But I beg to differ.

The real clash is between
the Abrahamic religions

and modern secularism.

It's the secularists
that fear and hate us.

It is the secularists... They
preach the loudest against religion.

So true. So true.

People say we Muslims
are living in the Dark Ages.

But the Dark Ages
weren't dark in Islam.

In the 1500s, Islam
was the richest,

most learned
civilization in the world.

And today, we
embrace technology,

modern advancements,
as you can see.

Westernization, no.

Modernization, yes.

DOUG: Mm-hmm. Well...

But, cultural differences aside,

I'll go much deeper with you.

Islam and Christianity
share monotheism.

And despite our tensions in
the past and in the present,

we share Jesus.

- Yes. Yes.
- (applause)

Jesus is considered
a messenger of God.

A holy and revered prophet.

Christians are
unaware of the fact

that we love Jesus Christ.

We love him.

Muslims accept his birth
to be that of a good man,

a great teacher,

one of God's miracles
through Virgin Mary...

Or "Maryam."

Well, uh, Mustafa, um...

since I'm here to talk,

- as you say, honestly...
- Yes.

About Christianity, um...

He may have been a great teacher

and a good man...

but he was so much more.

See... (stammering)

How do I say this?

Oh, no, no, you don't.

He is God.

(gasping, murmuring)

He is God.

Um, uh, semantics.

We-we... we say "prophet."

Uh, that's what we
say. We say "prophet."

No, not semantics.

Jesus is God.

He said, "I am the way,
the truth and the life."

(speaking Arabic)

"And nobody comes
to the Father but by me."

"For God so loved the world
that he gave his only begotten son,

"that whosoever believeth in him

shall not perish but
have everlasting life."

You say you love Jesus.

Well, he loves you.

Well, we love him.

Of course, we... we
love Jesus Christ.

And he wants to be your god.

What are you doing?

- (reporters clamoring)
- MARIA: Mr. Rawlins. Mr. Rawlins.

- REPORTER: Are you anti-Islam?
- Mr. Rawlins, are you aware

that Cairo broadcast your
appearance to over 45 countries?

MARIA: It's gone
viral in the Middle East.

Everyone is talking about it.

- How does this make you feel?
- PIERRE: Many are saying

you've crossed a line, that
you're preaching to Muslims.

- Can you comment?
- REPORTER: Mr. Rawlins!

Mr. Rawlins, I
need your comment.

(cameras clicking)

I was asked about my faith.

I just said what I believed.

MUSTAFA: Give him
way, please. Give him way.

MARIA: M-Mr. Rawlins,
one more question, please.

Mr. Rawlins, have
you read the Koran?

Yes, a friend of mine gave me
a copy, and I gave him a Bible.

- Have a nice day.
- Give him way, please.

- Give him way. Give him way.
- (reporters clamoring)

REPORTER: How many
followers do you have?

(sighs)

Quite a show, mate.

Very impressive.

- Thank you.
- Yeah.

There I am watching telly

when, all of a sudden,
I see this milky white

upper-middle-class
American wanker

who reckons he can
preach to a billion Muslims.

Well, I was invited.

Not by me, mate.

Not by me.

- (elevator bell chimes)
- (doors open)

Excuse me.

♪ ♪

(quiet chatter)

(door lock buzzes, beeps)

(indistinct whispering)

(laughing)

LIZ (over phone): You
really did it this time, Doug.

You really stirred it up.

You're preaching.

It weirds people out.

Look, the reason the talk caught fire
is because I said what was unexpected.

But damn it, I was
just trying to be honest.

I-I was just trying to be real.

By the way, your friends
Javid and, uh, Soheila...

Come on, Liz. They
weren't your friends, too?

They've... they've moved out.

What?

They just vanished.

What about Meena?

Nothing. That's all I know.

Maybe you should check in at
work and see if he's showed up there.

My guess is: likely not.

What about us, Liz?

Are we okay?

(door rattling)

Who's there?

What?

- Hold on.
- (banging at door)

LIZ: What?

Yeah?

Doug? What's going on?

Who's there?

- (grunts, groans)
- LIZ: Doug?

Doug!

- (grunting)
- Doug?

- (gasps)
- What's going on? Doug!

(grunting)

Can you hear me?

- Doug?
- (strained grunting)

Doug, what's... what's going on?

- Doug!
- (panting)

Doug!

(phone beeps)

Can you hear me?

Doug!

Doug!

♪ ♪

(grunting)

(muttering)

- (engine starts)
- (speaking Arabic)

(shouting in pain)

♪ ♪

(tires screech)

He's caused an
international incident.

He was kidnapped.

This is terrorism.

It's not his fault.

You got to get him out.

They're working on it, right?

The-the... the government...

the agency, I mean,
they're working on it.

We're getting our
fact pattern in order.

Fact pattern?

We'll get back to you.

Talk to no one.

Are we clear on that, Liz?

About a fact pattern? Yes.

Good.

- (horns honking)
- (traffic rumbling)

(door opens)

(groans, whimpers)

Look around you.

You are in the middle
of fucking nowhere.

- No one knows where you are.
- (breath trembling)

And it's gonna stay that way.

We agree?

(groans)

Do we fucking agree?

Yes.

Good.

You got a bed, got
a table, got a chair.

Look at you.

You're all set.

Toilet's down the hall.

Why am I here?

What sort of lunatic...
What sort of muppet...

Comes to the Middle
East to convert Muslims?

Take him to the loo.

(pained grunting)

(groaning softly)

♪ ♪

(makes retching sound)

- (makes retching sound)
- (liquid splattering)

(grunting)

Mountains.

Baalbek.

Lebanon.

Hey. Hey.

Can you hear me?

(distant door closes)

(whispers): Help me.

Oh, shit.

Hey, kid.

Yeah.

Hey.

Help me.

Can you...
Sweetheart, can you...

Can you get your mama?

Yeah.

Yeah. Get her.

Yeah.

(chuckles)

(banging at door)

MAGID: Finish!

I got to... I'm almost...

(speaking Arabic)

I had to go real bad.

(groaning)

(door closes, lock clunks)

REPORTER: Mrs. Rawlins,
why did your husband go there?

Do you have anything
to do with this?

Has the State Department
been helping you?

- (clamoring)
- Who would want to kidnap him?

Mrs. Rawlins, do
you care to comment?

- Mrs. Rawlins!
- Do you know who kidnapped him?

(clamoring continues)

Mrs. Rawlins, do you know
about his whereabouts?

What are you hiding from us?

WOMAN (on TV): Well,
why do you say that?

I mean, have we really
become that callous?

Is our government that uncaring?

MAN (on TV): Look, when a
prominent Christian blogger,

whose wife happens to
work at the State Department,

goes on his own free
will to appear on television

in the Middle East and
proselytize, that's his business.

But when he gets kidnapped for doing it,
don't expect the United States government

to drop everything and
come to your rescue,

no matter who you
are or who your wife is.

RAMZI: You're famous, mate.

Internet is lit up. You're
the man of the fucking hour.

Been reading your blog.

Your musings on
Jesus the Christ,

going to church, your
little buddy at work.

What's his name? The
one that calls you Kuffs.

Kuffs?

Short for "kafir"... infidel.

- Javid?
- Javid.

Sounds Persian.

Fucking hate Persians.

I'm half Persian.

Luckily, the other
half's Kurdish.

This blog of yours...

Personally, I don't see any
reason why it should stop.

You want me to...

- post my blog from here?
- Yeah.

Who's posted from captivity?

Mate, I'm setting you
up for a fucking Pulitzer.

I'll help you, put
it online for you.

Here's what I need, though.

I need your password.

Problem is, is then you
would be writing my blog,

not me.

Well, I'm not a
fucking idiot, am I?

So I'm not just gonna hand you a
laptop and let you do what you want.

It's my blog.

All right.

That's fair.

Let me show you
something. Look at this.

(sniffs)

(clears throat)

- (grunts)
- (man screaming on video)

See this plonker?

He didn't give me
his password, either.

So I took some electrodes,
and I fried his balls off.

Those electrical prods, they
really fuck your fertility up.

Now, imagine if I apply
those to your teeth and gums.

Do you reckon your missus
would ever fuck you again?

(grunting)

- (groans)
- Now, I'll be honest, man.

I don't... I don't love
the ultraviolence.

I'm more of an
artist type, aren't I?

- Sensitive.
- (Doug coughs)

Anyway, give me your password,

or I'll fry your
little jelly beans.

(chuckles): No.

(laughs) A no.

Okay.

(chuckling)

Are you taking the piss?

- (Doug yells)
- Are you taking the fucking piss?!

♪ ♪

(door opens)

- No. No!
- (drill whirring)

No.

We're here to
power-drill your kneecaps.

Cool with that?

No! No, no.

Wait, wait, wait. No.

- Password, please.
- O-Okay, okay, okay.

Uh, Liz, zero,

uh, nine, 19, forward slash, 85.

- Say again.
- Liz, zero!

Nine, 19, forward slash, 85.

(drill stops)

Look at that. We're in.

That wasn't so hard, was it?

Well, untie him, then.

How is he gonna write
with his hands tied?

You're gonna be
a sensation, mate.

First person who ever blogged
from captivity in a Muslim cell.

What are you waiting for?

Come on. Chop-chop.

(Doug sighs)

Can I get it to you
in the morning?

Please.

You said the magic word.

You saw that, didn't you?

You're a smart guy.

(chuckling)

(lock clunks)

But not smart enough.

(imitating Ramzi): "You'll
be a sensation, mate."

"Dude's being
held in a Muslim cell

and writes about it."

"You write the
blog. I'll post it."

- (chuckles)
- (door opens)

What's that?

RAMZI: Don't worry.

It's not for your jelly beans.

This is for your laptop.

This represents my
commitment to your craft.

Now you can write all
the way through the night.

So, if you would just
leave me in peace,

I could get more work done.

Please.

Yeah.

You are fucking
irritating, you know that?

Actually, my wife
says the same thing.

She's a perceptive woman.

Do you think she'd
mind if you were dead?

Well, I certainly hope
she would, but who knows?

I want her to.

You smug piece of shit.

This is my fucking house.

You mind your manners
in my fucking house.

You understand me?

Sorry.

(door bangs shut)

(lock clunks)

♪ ♪

(typing)

(beeps)

What's going on?

Has something
happened with Doug?

Why am I...

Before you go nuts
on me, I have news.

Our sources tell us Doug
was nabbed by Hezbollah,

that he's likely being held...

somewhere in Lebanon.

Okay.

The Baalbek region is
a Hezbollah stronghold.

Hezbollah is trained
and equipped by Iran.

So, are there any
discussions or demands?

Is there a plan to get Doug out?

Our Operations Center
is in communication

with the Baalbek authorities,
the local police, to keep an eye.

But you said it was a
Hezbollah stronghold.

Won't they just give
him back to them?

Baalbek is tiring of terrorism.

Thousands have died fighting in
Syria, their finances have been frozen,

and the Lebanese
are growing weary.

They'll let us know
if they find anything.

Why am I locked out?

You feel like you're drowning,

so you grasp and
lunge for a lifeline.

There is no lifeline.

Yeah, I know that.

Really?

Let me give you an example.

Two Iranian Jews were rounded up
recently by the Islamic Republic of Iran,

accused of being spies
for the Israeli Mossad.

Do you think the Israelis
will launch a raid to free them?

Not a chance.

The days of Entebbe
are long over.

You're not to call the CIA,
FBI, Homeland Security

or any other government agency
to inquire about your husband.

Is that understood?

I just can't...

The secretary is very concerned
about the press scrutiny

Doug's trip has brought
upon this department and you.

- He's my husband.
- Yes, he is.

Therefore, you need
a leave of absence.

It's for the best.

RAMZI: Good work.

Yeah, this will up your value.

Well done.

Over to the audience now.

So, I've done what you've asked.

When do you plan to let me go?

Let you go?

Nah, nah, we're just
getting started, mate.

Me and you have
got a lot to talk about.

Okay.

Let's talk.

Are you Hezbollah?

Am I Hezbollah?

Doesn't matter
what the fuck I am.

You're CIA, same as your bird.

- My bird?
- Your wife.

Your missus. Your
significant other.

She's CIA, and so are you.

(laughing)

She... she works trade policy.

Is that why she called the
police on the Hosseini home?

What?

Is that why she called the
police on the Hosseini home?

Is that why, when
you went there,

the police showed you
his fucking basement?

You're fucking CIA,
and so is your missus,

and the two of you set him up.

That's why I'm here?

Sort of.

You blew our prize operative.

You blew our prize operative.

I only went to Cairo to
keep a fucking eye on you,

then you get up in front of two
billion people and try and convert them.

So the word comes down:
"He's dangerous. Pick him up."

Bring him outside.

- (distant chatter)
- (horns honking)

(coughs, clears throat)

It's tea.

(sniffs) Turkish tea.

It's really good.

Thank you. (clears throat)

(clears throat)

My first memory in life was
clutching my grandmother's hand

as we were being chased
down Chingford High Street

by a bunch of neo-Nazi skinheads

throwing milk
bottles at our heads,

telling us to get the
fuck out of their country.

I was four, mate.

Messed me up for a while.

Desperately made
me want to fit in.

Then... the big guy spoke to me.

He said, "Son, it's
always been this way."

Been Crusaders on horseback,
Gulf War, Afghanistan.

Chingford High Street.

This is me now throwing
milk bottles at your heads,

telling you get the fuck
out of our countries.

You started this holy war, mate.

We're gonna finish it.

RAMZI: What are you doing?

Give him his tea.

(beeping)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

I'm gonna get you out of there.

I'll get you out of there, Doug.

(phone ringing)

Some bastard on the Internet
decoded Doug's message.

- LIZ: What? Who?
- This fellow.

What's his name? Alias 9.

May have just given
him a death sentence.

Shit.

Oh, my God.

RAMZI: What did you do?

- What?
- What did you do?!

(grunting and groaning)

What did you fucking do?!

What did you do?!

(grunts)

(all yell)

♪ ♪

(lock clunks)

(banging on door)

Move. Move!

(grunts)

- (goat bleats)
- (horn honks, tires squeal)

(grunts)

(groans)

- (groaning)
- RAMZI: Leave him!

♪ ♪

(goat bleating nearby)

(engine starts)

(tires squeal)

(tires squeal)

I'm Doug Rawlins.

Will you... will you help me?

- My-my name is Doug...
- (speaking Arabic)

Doug... Douglas Rawlins.

I'm an American. I was
kidnapped, and-and...

(tires squealing)

No. No.

Help. Help. Help.

- Please, Officer.
- (tires screech)

- My name is Doug Rawlins.
- Who are you?

My name is Doug Rawlins.

I was kidnapped in Cairo.

You are him? Do you
have an identity card?

Yeah, I am.

- I told you I was kidnapped!
- Let me see your...

Why-why would I have an identity
card? I was kidnapped, for crying out loud.

These are the men!

- (speaking Arabic)
- No! Don't let 'em take me!

Don't let 'em take me!
Don't let 'em take me!

(speaking Arabic)

- (onlookers exclaim)
- DOUG: Oh, shit!

(Doug shouting, grunting)

Somebody help! Somebody help.

(engine starts)

I got bad news. You're
not going anywhere, sir.

Your time with me is gonna
seem like a fucking holiday.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

LIZ: Okay, just tell me

what they're saying.

Tell me, please.

He's either dead or they've
moved him somewhere.

Where?

Iran keeps coming up.

If they're not holding him,
they know where he is.

Iran's calling all the shots.

I should go.

A woman alone in
that part of the world?

- Liz, it's crazy.
- Well, I've got to do something.

It's dangerous.

And at minimum, if Doug is
dead, I can bring his body back.

Liz, don't go and
get yourself killed.

I can't give up on him.

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

MARIA: Mrs. Rawlins,
why are you here?

- Move! Move!
- Please.

- Move.
- Do you think your husband is here?

Mrs. Rawlins,
greetings from Tehran.

You will come with
me most immediately.

- Out of the way!
- Are you expecting help from

- the government?
- We're going to the Ministry of Justice.

MARIA: Please,
please, answer us!

(reporters clamoring)

♪ ♪

(birds chirping)

♪ ♪

MARIA: Are you willing
to help Mrs. Rawlins

to find her husband?

PIERRE: What information
do you have for us, Ayatollah?

Any information at
all, Ayatollah Tehrani?

Please come over here.

- (cameras clicking)
- (reporters clamoring)

In the name of God, I'm here
today with nice American lady.

She's here in the
Islamic Republic

for assistance in
finding her husband.

We will assist her.

At present, we do
not know where he is.

Apparently, he
was on TV in Cairo.

DOUG: What do you want from me?

(grunting)

(groaning, coughing)

(coughs) What do you
want?! What do you want?!

- What do you want?!
- TEHRANI: He's an American

who has disappeared.

Maybe he runs
away from his wife.

I've heard of this before.

LIZ: My husband was
kidnapped in Cairo.

He was taken to Lebanon.

We know nothing beyond
that. Absolutely nothing.

TEHRANI: There are rumors
about this man's activities.

And Mrs. Rawlins
works for her government.

- Um, but what does all this...
- We must consider...

Sorry. What does all this
matter if you're not holding him?

It's a matter of justice.

Our intelligence services
are gathering information.

If they learn of anything...

- Please don't do this.
- We're willing to send

our forces to rescue him.

This is very risky for us.

But we do it because
we are compassionate.

We are merciful.

(screaming)

- God, please. Stop.
- (cable snapping)

(groans) I've done
nothing wrong!

PIERRE: Dr. Tehrani, please...

TEHRANI: Praise be to Allah.

Are you going to
protect Mrs. Rawlins?

TEHRANI: May he show
us the righteous path

so that we may repel the enemies
of God and the corrupt of the Earth.

PIERRE: Anything to say
about what you just heard?

MARIA: Please, are you...
are you okay? Mrs. Rawlins.

Tell me what you want!

(lock clanks)

♪ ♪

(quiet chatter)

I'm Pierre Barthes,
South African Telemedia.

Maria. Maria Landi from Rome.

Yes, we interviewed
your husband in Cairo.

We've been following the case.

Yes, I saw you at
the Ministry of Justice.

We apologize for
participating in such a fraud,

but any publicity helps
your husband's case, right?

Yeah, sure.

We'd love to do one-on-ones
with you if that's possible.

Will you talk to us?

Oh, perhaps later.

I don't want to do anything

that might upset the Iranian
government or harm Doug.

So, thank you.

(clears throat)

♪ ♪

(clerk speaks Farsi)

- Do you believe Doug's alive?
- (clerk speaks Farsi)

I know he is.

PIERRE: But how do you know?

I just know.

Okay.

So, what's your plan?

- Plan?
- Yes.

If he's still alive, if he's
here, you need a plan.

You need help.

Leverage. Do you understand?

Otherwise, they'll use
you to their advantage,

- just like the press conference.
- What leverage?

I came here to
plead for his life.

That's it.

That's my plan.

Where are you going?

I can't just sit in my room.

Be careful out there.

Don't talk to anybody.

- Do not make appointments.
- Okay. Thank you, thank you.

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

(excited chatter)

Welcome to the bazaar, lady.

Welcome to Tehran.

Thank you.

We can help you with problem.

He's here, your husband.

How do you know that?

Have you seen him?

Yes.

I have a photo.

You have a photograph of Doug?

A current one?

I would be very grateful
for something like that.

You'll pay, yes?

Yes, I can pay. Yes.

Could you send it to my...
my phone or my computer?

Come. I show you first.

You pay, then I send you.

- Come where?
- Nearby.

Lady, this photo is proof
your husband is here and alive.

Come with me.

Come.

♪ ♪

Come.

Is here, the photo.

Come on.

Um, can you bring it out?

(Ali speaks Farsi)

- Sorry?
- (speaks Farsi)

Come.

- Come on.
- Oh, forget it.

- (grunting)
- (muffled whimpering)

Wait, wait, wait, wait!

Just wait. Just calm down.

(Liz panting)

Be cool.

(grunting)

It's all right. It's all right.

We're your friends.
We're your friends.

We're not with them.

(groaning)

We're friends.

We won't harm you.

- (speaks Farsi)
- Here.

Thank you.

Who are you?

This is my husband
Fereydoun. I'm Fariba.

We are Christians.

We read Doug's blog.

We've been following you.

You're safe now.

You're kidding me. (sighs)

You are okay?

Please, there are, uh, some
people here who want to meet you.

And... and we have food.

Hello. Welcome.

Hello.

(others murmuring greetings)

Please. We have pastry and tea.

And we have news.

This is Aziz.

A guard at Prison
209 here in Tehran.

Prison 209?

It's maximum security
for special prisoners.

Political prisoners.

Aziz... (speaks Farsi)

I am Muslim, not Christian.

I'm here to resist
the government.

I have guards with
me, also Muslim.

Your husband, he's
been there for one week.

Please have a seat.

Um... th-the press don't know.

Well, the-the government
hasn't said anything.

(speaking Farsi)

It is very risky,

but he will try to take a
photo and send it to you.

I will give him your number.

Would you like to write
a message to Doug?

Oh, yes.

Yeah.

Um... (sighs)

Please.

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(clears throat)

Thank you.

And... Doug, he's,
uh... He's-he's okay.

Um, it's very kind of you to...

to show your concern.

Thank you.

This is our church.

We meet here regularly.

Oh.

There's a Christian
movement inside Iran,

led by women tired
of being victims.

How about you, your faith?

(prolonged blaring of horn)

(medical monitor
beeping steadily)

Uh, I'm, um...
I'm tired. I just...

I want to go back
to my hotel room.

I understand.

- Get some rest.
- Oh.

FARIBA: Come on.
Let's get you a cab.

(door creaking)

No. No, don't hurt me.

Don't hurt me, please.

I'm the one who told
'em not to hurt you, mate.

Doug...

you're swimming
in an ocean of shit.

Time to get back
on the boat, mate.

There's no fighting 'em.

(shuddering breaths)

I just want to... go home.

Of course you do, mate.

Of course you do.

They beat you hard enough,

you lose your grip,
you lose your faith.

Lose everything.

Doug, listen to me.

The only way out of here is to
tell them what they want to hear.

Repudiate Cairo, admit
you're a spy, they'll let you go.

I promise I'll make that happen.

'Cause they're not gonna stop.

(trembling breaths)

Tell your high priest...

to go fuck himself.

(groaning weakly)

(groaning weakly)

Fair enough.

No one knows you're here.

As far as the world is concerned,
you're dead and buried, so...

your only hope is to come clean.

Otherwise, you'll rot.

(door creaks shut)

(lock clunks)

♪ ♪

(TV playing indistinctly)

(TV shuts off)

Speak, Lord. I'm listening.

(chuckling)

I'm right here.

Lord... where are you?

I don't know where
to find you right now.

(shuddering)

(metallic creaking, scraping)

(pained grunting)

Thank you.

(grunts)

(shuddering)

(pained grunt)

(panting)

♪ ♪

LIZ: Doug, I'm here in Tehran.

I know where you are.

I'm letting the world
know so they'll let you go.

I know you're alive, Doug.

I'll come for you soon.

Love, Liz.

(beeps, clicks)

(cell phone chiming)

(gasps softly, sighs)

♪ ♪

(sighs)

You're not... you're not going
out dressed like that, are you?

Half naked?

Starkers?

What would your husband think?

♪ ♪

Is this you?

Hmm?

You responsible for this?

Look at me when I'm
fucking talking to you!

Is this you?

Get your clothes on.

♪ ♪

(door opens)

(door bangs shut)

- What am I doing here?
- Shut up and listen to me.

Tell your old man to come clean.

Tell him to say
exactly what it is

they want him to say, or
it's gonna end very badly.

Do you understand?

- Okay.
- Good girl.

(door closes)

(door creaks open)

Doug.

What have they done to you?

You bastards.

What have they done to him?

- Ah, he looks lovely.
- Look at him.

- He can barely walk.
- Shh.

- It's all right.
- Doug, I'm sorry.

- I'm sorry.
- I'm sorry, too,

- but you shouldn't have come.
- I'm sorry.

We have a chance.

That's enough. That's a lot.

RAMZI: Sit down, please.

Get comfy.

Are you okay?

Smile for the cameras.
Smile for the cameras.

(cameras clicking)

I apologize,
honey, for all of it.

My ego was on overdrive,
thinking I could save the world.

You were invited.

No, I was stupid,
selfish, prideful.

- No, you weren't.
- I blew it.

This is what you do.

- You-you talk to people.
- I know.

- You exchange ideas.
- (scoffs) Dumb ideas.

Yeah, it is. It's
stupid sometimes.

- (laughing)
- It's...

- (guard speaks Farsi)
- I want more time with him.

Where are you taking her?

It's all right, mate. She's
just going to the hotel.

- Where are you taking her?
- She'll be fine.

Liz, get out. You
got to get out of here.

- No, not unless you come with me.
- Liz, listen to me.

Get out of here today.

- Not unless you come with me.
- Come on.

- Get out of here.
- Not unless...

You have to leave this country.

Not unless you come with me.

Whoa, whoa.

Hey, hey, hey.

TEHRANI: Mr. Rawlins.

Welcome to Iran.

We're putting you on trial.

What for?

We're announcing to the world

your appearance in Cairo was
a pretext for spying activities.

The evidence is overwhelming.

We have excellent witnesses.

I'm sure you do.

We're going to
broadcast the trial.

The world will see
how guilty you are,

as will the Christians in Iran
who need a lesson in manners.

You will confess
before the cameras.

(speaks Farsi)

(door opens)

(chains clinking)

Let's keep it moving, shall we?

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

Javid!

Javid!

You know what's
happened to Doug.

You know he's innocent.

You-you can tell them the truth.

You're his friend.

Yeah, that's why I'm here, Liz.

To testify.

Testify?

At his trial.

I'm their primary witness.

For the Iranian government?

For my government.

But at least you know
how to say "Iran" now.

Not "I-ran."

(chuckles)

You Americans.

Spend decades in the Middle
East, and you say "I-ran" and "I-raq."

What is this?

Intentional stupidity?

No, seriously, I
really want to know.

'Cause you act as if
nothing happened in Virginia.

What?

You tried to get
me arrested there.

No. No, no, no, that's not true.

Where is Soheila?
Where is Meena?

My wife is here.

And she doesn't leave the house,
like it should have been in America.

Then none of this
would have happened.

And Meena?

I don't know that name.

She's your daughter.

I have no daughter.

Why? Because of that boy?

No.

Because of her shame.

I had no choice.

(speaks Farsi)

Did you get what you needed?

(sighs) Shit.

TEHRANI: We're
here to render judgment

in the case of
Mr. Douglas Rawlins

for the charge of spying
against Iranians in America, Egypt

and Lebanon.

Mr. Rawlins,

you have been remanded in
custody, and you must face justice.

Justice?

- Justice?
- Justice!

I've been kidnapped.

I have been beaten. I've
been tortured, threatened.

By your men.

Deprived of all
my civil liberties.

Now, you're gonna do
what you damn well please,

but don't decorate your brutality
with legal and divine fiction.

(gallery gasping)

TEHRANI: The evidence thus far

is most compelling,

but we demand to
hear it from your mouth:

- Are you a spy?
- (cameras clicking)

I am not a spy, sir.

You work in Washington, D.C.

You have government contracts.

You have clearance.

And yet you deny any
spying activity whatsoever?

Yes, sir.

I deny it.

♪ ♪

(cameras clicking)

(Tehrani speaks Farsi)

(gallery murmuring)

♪ ♪

Your name, please.

Javid Hosseini.

Tell us how you
know the defendant.

I worked side by side with Mr. Rawlins
in a software company in Fairfax

called Innovative Solutions.

Innovative Solutions was engaged
in contracts with the U.S. government,

and Doug was actually
doing classified research,

most of which was about Iran.

And I've brought
some of it here today.

(cameras clicking)

(gallery murmuring)

That's bullshit.

Mr. Abolhassan.

- Mr. Rawlins, please.
- Bullshit.

- (gavel slams)
- Silence!

You may continue.

So, looking further into the matter, it
became clear to me that Mr. Douglas

and the whole company was engaged
in spying activities against my country,

and I, as a patriot... I
had to act even if it put

- me and my family in danger.
- Patriot?

'Cause this is what
noble citizens do.

You're a coward.

Suddenly, the police
are invading my house.

They-they went
through the whole house.

Every room.

Trying to prove that I
was a spy against America.

All of the neighbors
were watching.

It was extremely humiliating.

My daughter... (sighs, mutters)

My daughter committed suicide

from the shame they
caused us that day.

You whacked your own kid.

No, you killed her.

And now I just want... I just
want the world to know that this is

th-the man that
killed my small...

my little angel,
my little daughter.

You're crying
'cause of your guilt.

(Javid sobbing)

M-Meena's dead
because of you and Liz.

I just want justice
for my daughter.

Nothing more.

DOUG: So much guilt.

She was the only thing I had.

TEHRANI: Will
the defendant rise?

The court has no choice
but to rule in this case.

The evidence is sufficient.

It's overwhelming.

It is clear you are
an American spy.

Mr. Douglas Rawlins,

the verdict upon you is guilty,

and the sentence is
death by firing squad.

- (gallery clamoring)
- MAN: Inshallah!

- Allahu Akbar!
- Allahu Akbar!

- (indistinct chatter)
- (cameras clicking)

MAN: Mrs. Rawlins. Mrs. Rawlins.

- Honey, listen to me.
- (crying): Oh, my God.

Listen to me. Listen.

Don't stick around
for any more of this.

You have to go.

No, I want to stay with you.

Excuse me, um...

The grand inquisitor,
uh, wishes a word.

Mr. Douglas, Mrs. Rawlins,

it is not too late.

Too... too late for what?

We can make an agreement.

What are you talking about?

You can escape the death penalty
by making a full confession on video.

Everyone will know
it's under duress.

(chuckles) All
the better reason.

You have nothing to
lose and your life to gain.

No way.

No way.

Now that we're done with
that, my wife needs to go home,

and I'd like to spend
a few minutes with her.

If you don't mind.

DOUG: This is it.

I need you to go home.

No, no, I didn't come
here to watch you die

and go home alone. No.

You will never do
what I ask, will you?

(chuckles)

And break a habit?

(breath trembling)

(sniffles)

Goodbye.

- GUARD: No.
- Okay.

(reporters clamoring)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(rifles clicking)

RAMZI: Nice day, innit?

I mean, if it has to be a day,
might as well be a nice one.

You know I'm just
following orders, right?

This wasn't my idea.

Sure.

RAMZI: Anything
else I can do for you?

I don't know.

Maybe a... a bulletproof vest?

Repent, brother.

Accept Allah's word and proclaim
Muhammad as his messenger.

Should've spoken to you
more about martyrdom.

If I had, you'd be
laughing at these fuckers.

You'd be saying, "Through you,
I gain entrance into paradise."

We're not afraid to die.

That's why we're gonna win.

I'm not afraid, either.

Do your job.

♪ ♪

- (shouts order in Farsi)
- (men shout)

(shouts order in Farsi)

♪ ♪

- (men chuckling)
- I am so proud of you.

You did not shit
your pants, did you?

You guys are assholes.

RAMZI: Yep.

♪ ♪

(phone ringing)

- Hello?
- MARIA: Liz, it's Maria.

- They're coming for you.
- Maria?

Get out now. We're outside.

Come on! Come on!

Hurry up!

Come on, come on, come on.

What's this? What's going on?

Watch it!

(tires squeak)

Down! Down, down,
down, down, down!

MARIA: Stay down.

Who are they?

Local militia. Who knows?

You're a trophy now, Liz.

PIERRE: We're clear
now. Go, go, go, go, go.

♪ ♪

(car doors closing)

What's this?

Are these guys with you?

What-what's going on?

We have men on the
inside of Prison 209.

People that you've met.

We've been preparing something.

A rescue.

A rescue for Doug?

Are you with us?

I want to get Doug
out, of course, but I...

I need to know who you are.

- We are Mossad.
- Mossad?

Oh, shit.

Why would Israeli
intelligence care about Doug?

We have two men...
Iranians... Being held in 209.

Doug has met them.

We want to get them out, and
in the process, we'll rescue Doug.

That way, his rescue
becomes our cover.

So, Doug and I are your front?

No.

Look.

I'm gonna tell you something.

If you ever repeat
it, I'll deny it.

The United States government is
aware of and fully supports this action.

So... so, you want me
to go into that prison?

Yes.

Why would they let me in?

PIERRE: Because
you're gonna tell them

that you're gonna convince Doug
to confess in order to save his life.

If we may find a moment
when he will be with you

inside of the visitors
room, we can finally move.

Without you, all it
is is conversation.

What do you need me to do?

You'll stay here
tonight with Maria.

It's safe.

Tomorrow, we move.

It's visitors day.

There'll be a mob
at the main gate.

Some are our people.

The rest are Muslim women
who want their men out.

Uh, Liz Rawlins.

PIERRE: The coronavirus
has spread through the prison.

The inmates, they want out, too.

(speaks Farsi)

(door buzzes)

PIERRE: This is
a political prison.

Only guards in the
towers have firearms.

We're planning a diversion
to mask their ability to see,

to give us time to do
what we need to do.

Guards on the ground in the
cellblocks only have nightsticks.

We can pull this off, but you
have to do exactly as I say.

Get my boy to confess.

Do you ever shut up?

♪ ♪

(lock clunks, door creaks open)

What are you still doing here?

- Sit down, Doug.
- I told you to leave, damn it.

- Back to my cell, please.
- Doug. Doug!

- No.
- Doug.

- What?
- Sit down.

Why are you here?

(quietly): We're
getting out of here.

What?

It's gonna be okay.

♪ ♪

(loud banging at fence)

(clamoring)

Come on! Come on!

(banging and clamoring continue)

(banging and clamoring continue)

(sizzling)

(shouts)

♪ ♪

GUARD: Sit down!

- Sit down!
- What was that?

(door buzzes)

(urgent chatter in Farsi)

(shouting in Farsi)

(speaks Farsi)

(groaning)

(alarm blaring)

(urgent chatter in Farsi)

♪ ♪

(men shouting)

Come here.

Quickly.

(clamoring)

(guards speaking Farsi)

Go, go, go, go!

Open the gate! Open the gate!

(clamoring)

Get out! Come on!

Come on, come on!

- (clamoring)
- (alarm continues)

(shouting in Farsi)

Get out, guys! Come on!

(speaking Farsi)

(groans)

(shouting in Farsi)

(groans)

(clamoring)

(alarm continues)

(speaking Farsi)

(speaking Farsi)

(rifles cock)

- (clamoring)
- (bullets whizzing)

(gunfire continues)

(bullets whizzing)

(speaking Farsi)

Come now.

(gunfire, clamoring
continue in distance)

(lock clunks)

- We're with you.
- Good.

- Let's go.
- LIZ: Please.

(grunts)

(coughing)

(explosions booming)

(clamoring)

Is there a plan here,
or are we winging it?

We're winging it.

Magid!

PIERRE: Come on. In the
van. In the van. In the van!

- Come on!
- Dawood! Hamid! Come on!

Come on! Here, come on!

Yes, come on! Here!

(engine starts)

Go, go, go, go, go!

(gun racks)

Hey!

(shouting in Farsi)

(speaks Farsi) Go!

(Magid shouting)

(engine grinding)

How are we getting
out of the country?

PIERRE: Two helicopters.

One out of the city,
another waiting in the desert.

- What about your people?
- What about 'em?

They're going another route.

(tires squealing)

MARIA: They're behind us.

PIERRE: (groans)
Damn it. Go, go, go!

(tires squealing)

Stop!

- What's this?
- Underground caves.

Go now!

Come on, Liz.

- DOUG: Liz!
- PIERRE: Back to the van now!

(grunts)

(grunting)

- My wife!
- There's no going back!

- PIERRE: You know what to do.
- Yeah.

Go, go, go, go, go!

Go!

- (grunts)
- (body thuds)

(panting)

(speaking Farsi)

(horns honking)

- (engine revving)
- (tires squealing)

♪ ♪

(shouts in Farsi)

(shouts in Farsi)

(tires screech)

Is Doug here?

Where's Pierre?

He-he didn't make it.

What about Doug?

I'm not sure.

♪ ♪

(shouting in Farsi)

That helicopter is leaving,
and it's my job to put you on it!

- I'm not going without Doug.
- Come on!

Go!

Please, Liz, it's my
job to save your life.

LIZ: Doug! Doug.

(Doug panting)

Come on!

- LIZ: Oh, thank God.
- DOUG: Thank God.

We made it.

- You okay?
- You're here.

- (tires screech)
- Jeep!

- Go! Go!
- Stay down! Stay down!

♪ ♪

- Liz!
- Doug.

Doug.

MARIA: Come with me! Liz!

(shallow, gasping breaths)

(coughs)

(chuckling): You take this
shit too seriously, mate.

(coughing weakly)

(gasping breaths)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(rapid gunfire)

Let's go.

Let's go. Come on!

DOUG: Come on, honey! Come on!

Get in.

- (groans)
- (rifle cocks)

- (grunts)
- (rapid gunfire)

REPORTER: There's
reports from the Middle East

that American Doug Rawlins,

recently sentenced to death
by the Islamic Republic of Iran,

has escaped the country
in a mass prison break.

We're cutting now to a press conference,
we believe from Amman, Jordan.

(cameras clicking)

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

♪ ♪

(music fades)