All language subtitles for Tom.Clancys.Jack.Ryan.S01E05.WEB-DL.XviD.B4ND1T69

♪ ♪

-(chains jangling)
-(shouting in distance)

-(helicopter whirring)
-(siren wailing)

(tires screech)

(man speaking indistinctly
over megaphone)

(phone vibrating)

(phone vibrating)

(phone vibrating)

(phones continue vibrating)

(phone ringing)

-(helicopter passes overhead)
-(clamoring)

(sirens wailing)

306 confirmed dead so far

in this devastating and brazen
attack on innocent Parisians...

(reporter speaking Japanese)

Claiming responsibility
for the assault

is a Lebanese-born Syrian,
Mousa bin Suleiman.

This morning,
he released the following video.

I regret the death
of children and women.

Our children die every day.

Paris was only the beginning.

(mouse clicks)

♪ ♪

He just posted these videos.

It's smart,
sophisticated propaganda.

(mouse clicks)

-For all your Muslim roots...
-For the aspiring jihadi youth.

(Arabic rap music playing)

we have to...

-bring this war...
-It's a fucking music video.

from our land to their land.

-(mouse clicks)
-(music stops)

And this last one is a call
to arms for all Muslims

-around the world.
-In the name of God...

to all the Muslim people with

-all your tribes...
-But he isn't Muslim.

-and your beliefs...
-He's just a fucking psychopath.

No, that's what
he wants you to believe.

So you would react to him
emotionally.

♪ ♪

(mouse clicks)

(mouse clatters)

-Could've stopped it.
-Oh, really?

You have a cape on
under that shirt?

The brother. Ali Suleiman.

He wasn't just in Paris
for the wire transfer.

He was in Paris for this.

He knew what was gonna happen.

And he knew where.

-And if I hadn't shot him...
-Uh-huh.

(sighs)

A friend of mine in the Bureau
told me a story.

After 9/11,

a guy who worked for American
Airlines called the FBI tip line

to turn himself in.

He was working at Dulles
the morning of the attacks,

checking tickets at the gate--
business as usual.

And these two Middle Eastern
fellas come through the line.

They presented
their boarding passes,

he checked them in
and waved them on through.

As they're walking away,

he happened to look down
at their shoes,

and he notices they're cheap.

Scuffed up.

They don't match
the first-class tickets

or pressed collared shirts
and new khaki pants.

One hour later, those men

flew that Boeing 757
into the side of the Pentagon.

He blamed himself for putting
those hijackers onto the plane,

but what should he have done?

Called airport security
because they had dirty shoes?

Of course not.
That would have been irrational.

And you...

blaming yourself for this...

...that's irrational, too.

Not to mention narcissistic.

(indistinct chatter)

♪ ♪

(man speaking indistinctly
over P.A.)

(man shouting indistinctly
in distance)

(traffic passing)

♪ ♪

-Hello.
-Hello.

Name?

Hanin Abdullah.

Names and ages of your children?

Rama is 10, Sara is 14 and...

Is there someone else?

My son.

Where is he?

He's not with me.

I had to leave him.

But I'm going to find
a way to get him back,

once we're settled.

Where do you intend to go?

We're trying to get to Europe.

Hold still.

Only place you're going
is back to Syria.

Please! Our lives
are in danger...

Turkey can't accept
any more refugees.

Especially after Paris.

Paris? What do you mean?

(female reporter
speaking Turkish over TV)

Here's your tent assignment.

Let's go.

Next!

(female reporter
continues speaking)

♪ ♪

I ask you to return
to your homes...

all my brothers and sisters.

Come back to your senses.

Come back to your homes.

♪ ♪

-He set it up.
-GREER: Do you knock?

He set it up.

Set what up?

They attacked the church
during a funeral service

for a Catholic priest
who had been stabbed to death

in a mugging three days prior.

Okay, explain.

The attack happened
on a weekday.

That church
should have been empty.

How did he know
that it would be filled

with other priests
and dignitaries?

Because he researched
his target.

He took out that priest knowing
exactly what would happen.

(automatic gunfire, shouting
in distance)

(gunfire, shouting continue)

Sheikh, Dudayev and the men
await your orders.

My orders are the same...

as they were yesterday,
nothing has changed.

They'll meet and travel south
into Italy together.

It's just...
they're getting anxious.

The longer--

We will wait for my brother.

Understood?

Any news about
my wife and daughters?

Yazid hasn't checked in.

Brother!

Come here.

You're one of Al-Radwan's men.

I was, Sheikh Suleiman.

But I'm honored to be with you.

When was the last time
you put on clean clothes?

This is all I have.

There's water here... to wash
your clothes and yourself.

What's your name?

Ismail.

Where are you from?

Tunis, my Sheikh.

Listen to me, Ismail from Tunis.

Being poor can
rob you of many things.

But it must never
take away your self-respect.

If you don't respect yourself,
no one else will respect you.

Go and bathe.

Get this man some of my clothes.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.
May God bless you, Sheikh.

God be with you.

♪ ♪

(door opens)

(door closes)

-Bonjour.
-Bonjour.

(conversing in French)

Michel?

Mousa Suleiman.

We interned at
Credit Suisse together.

Mousa.

Best foot forward, right?

Thank you.

No, please keep it.

(door opens, closes)

(mispronounces):
"Mousa"?

Am I saying that right?

Mousa.

Ah.

Mousa.

Come with me, please.

I see you published a paper
on digital banking...

and its effect
on the global economy.

That's correct.

Tell us about that.

(clears throat)

In a global economy,

the bankers of tomorrow

must be agile and quick.

Digital banking

and electronic transactions

are the future of banking.

My paper explored the many ways

technology will effectively
disrupt this industry.

A bank such as yours...

could be on the forefront
of this disruption

and gain
tremendous market share.

Instead of trying
to change a system,

I'd encourage you to operate
within its parameters.

Relationships and trust...

are the currency with which
we've operated on

for over 260 years.

If you please--

That kind of trust
cannot be built over a computer.

Merci.

♪ ♪

SINGER: Site of the attack
is across the street

from the Uruguayan consulate
in Paris.

Their security CCTV
caught these.

Now, those of you
on the Eastern European desks

should recognize this man,
Ansor Dudayev, "the Chechen."

He cut his teeth
in the Soviet/Chechen War.

Highly proficient in explosives
and chemical weapons.

Veterans of Iraq

can thank Mr. Dudayev
for pioneering the use

of force penetrating
explosive devices

used to pierce U.S. armor.

Now, another familiar face
is Jabir Zarif,

former intelligence officer
with Afghan NDS.

The other guy here,
we're still trying to I.D. him,

and we're working
with DGSI on that.

Sir.
(clears throat)

The delivery system was three
Russian-made artillery shells.

Most likely supplied
to the Syrian Army,

then stolen from
government stockpiles.

They rigged the shells
with blasting caps.

A charge big enough
to rupture the casing

allowing the sarin to vent out.

Nate.

I don't see any direct threat

to the United States,
so I'm going to suggest

to the president
we let the French handle this.

Yeah, well, if I may...

GREER: Mr. Secretary,
with all due respect,

this guy's made it clear
that the West is his enemy.

He killed American soldiers
in Yemen.

27 of those people in the church
were Americans.

This is not a French problem.
This is a world problem.

-Who the hell are you?
-I'm Jim Greer.

And if you give a shit, I've
been doing this for 16 years.

-If you want to recommend...
-What my colleague here

is trying to say, Mr. Secretary,

is that it is critical
that we run point on this.

TRENT:
Okay, Nate.

So, tell me, without putting us
in a vulnerable position,

how exactly would you do that?

SINGER: Well, of course
we're gonna coordinate

-with our foreign partners.
-TRENT: Well, exactly.

But the United States
has a critical role

-to play here.
-The game.

When we were in Paris,
we uncovered correspondence

between Suleiman
and his brother Ali.

They were using a video game
system's online messaging app

to communicate.

Suleiman told Ali if he got out
of Paris, he would send help.

So if we use the same video game
system to contact Suleiman,

we can just pretend
that we're Ali.

Only the people in this room
and the DGSI agents

that we were with in the Alps
actually know he's dead.

Why would he take the risk?

Sir, their parents
were killed in 1983

in the Bekaa Valley.

They were forced
to relocate to France.

They grew up in foster homes.

His brother is the only family
Suleiman's got.

GREER: Not to mention
the little brother

saved big brother at Cobalt.

Sending someone after him
is the least he would do.

So... that's your plan?

-A video game?
-You got a better one?

The director's gonna need
a presidential finding,

but you just proceed
as if you've got one, okay?

-This meeting's over.
-Thank you, sir.

Guys,

come

look!

(female reporter speaking French
over video)

God is great.

In the Alps, they're still
searching for the terrorist...

who attacked a church in Paris.

Parisians are still in shock...

I'm watching it now.

The roads are crawling
with cops.

There's a checkpoint
every ten kilometers.

I-- Okay, okay, I understand.

I'll do it.

It is your heart talking,
not your brains.

-'Sup, Badger?
-Hey.

(indistinct radio chatter)

Yo, Tombstone.

-What are you doing?
-Nothing.

I was just checking on
an old BDA.

(keyboard keys clicking)

(jet engine roars in distance)

-New target deck.
-Great. (chuckles)

Hmm.

No, this is wrong.

-What?
-This.

It's an old target.

It's the guy on the Vespa,
remember?

-Abu Al Shabaz.
-Mm-hmm.

They didn't tell you?

Tell me what?

Some Battalion S-2 officer
fucked up.

That target was misidentified.

Wait. Whoa, whoa. Misidentified?

You mean he wasn't...?

(scoffs)

He had a son.

Look-it, just because
dude wasn't a target

doesn't mean he wouldn't
have been eventually.

Practically every
military-age male

in that village
has ties to Daesh.

(panting softly)

It's cool, Badger.

Hey.

You okay?

I'm not...

I killed an innocent man.

You just did
what you were ordered to do.

It's not your fault.

Then whose fault is it?

Ouch! You don't do it like Mom.

It's done, you're fine.

One minute.

Press it.

Baba?

Yes, my love.

Are you going to find
my mother and sisters?

Sure, I'm going to find them,

don't worry.

He's here, my Sheikh.

Samir, go eat your lunch.
All of it.

So, you're the leader
of your group?

I am. Dr. Daniel Nadler.

Médecins Sans Frontières.

How are your people doing?

They're frightened.

I mean medically.

Dehydration's a problem.
Nutrition.

What do you need?

Fresh water, better food,
exercise.

Specifically,
we need antibiotics,

acetaminophen, iodine tablets.

Multivitamins.

Make a list of all you need,

and I'll make sure you get it.

How long's your son been
a diabetic?

Excuse me?

The reason that I ask is because
there is a rare form of diabetes

that is congenital.

It's much easier to treat.

It can be treated by
an oral medication.

I'd be happy to run some tests,
if you like.

That's generous of you.
Thank you.

W-Wait. Y-You know,
we have ransom insurance.

Americans think
everything is about money.

What do you want with us, then?

You will get
your supplies, Doctor.

(speaks Arabic)

(French rap music playing)

Hey, Babon!

(laughter, lively chatter)

You know it was some shooting!

You're under arrest, bitch!

(laughter)

One of these days,
I'm gonna cap your ass.

I'm gonna break your heads in!

Bust their heads with what?

-With what?
-(laughs)

OK, laugh, laugh.

With this.

Let me see.

Stop, man!

Who gave it to you?

Halim.

Motherfucker!

Why'd he give you
something like that?

This is not a toy!

You don't know anything,

stick with selling falafel.

(bells tolling in distance)

Didn't you used to
come here to draw?

You ever thought about
picking it up again?

(scoffs)

Like what,
drawing pictures of tourists?

What do I need money for?

You're the one who's
gonna get us out of here.

You should see the way they look
at me in these interviews.

When they see me,
hear my name and where I live.

It's over before I even
sit down. Sons of bitches.

You have to think positive.

You have to will it
into existence.

(laughs)

How much of that shit
have you been smoking?

Your future is
going to be great,

you just have to believe it.

And if it doesn't, I'm fucked.

There's no way I'm putting on
an apron and selling falafel.

I still have my pride.

Huh. Ouais.

Stand up.

Stand up and keep your hands
where I can see them.

Come on!

You smell that?

What is that?

-Incense?
-(chuckles)

-This belong to you?
-(scoffs)

What was that? You want to say
something to me, tough guy?

No, he doesn't.

No one's talking to you,
asshole.

Okay, arms raised.

Raise your arms!

Come on!

What's going on here?

Okay.

Go fuck yourself!

Leave him alone!

Gun!

(screams)

Run!

(grunts)

(shout echoes)

(indistinct chatter)

MAN: Uh, yeah, we have about
200 people here who need water.

Could you just--
Yeah, thank you.

Salaam alaikum.

I can speak English.

Oh. What can I do for you?

We need to get out of Turkey.

Me and my daughters,
we want visas.

How about we start
with your name?

Hanin Abdullah.

I don't want to draw attention.

My husband don't know
where I am.

We seek political asylum.

Visas are extremely hard
to come by.

They're reserved for people
with special circumstances

or people who can provide
valuable information

to the U.S. government.

My husband...

Mousa bin Suleiman.

The attack in Paris.
The video.

That man is my husband.

Your husband is...
is Mousa bin Suleiman?

Yes.

Can you help me?

Have you got
any other forms of I.D.?

-No.
-No. Okay.

Where is your husband? Now?

I can't tell you that.

My son is with him.

I can't put my son in danger.

If you can't give me
more specific information,

how am I supposed
to believe you?

I'm sorry.
I shouldn't have come.

LAYLA:
We have a lead.

A woman who says
she's our good friend's wife.

Well, does she have proof?

She wouldn't say.
She wanted to protect her son.

Apparently, he's still
with the father.

And, uh, this guy,
how do you know him?

We were at The Farm together.

His cover is State Department,
but he's in the camp

collecting HUMINT.

Okay, listen,
tell him to find her, okay?

-Get her to talk.
-Where are you?

Monster truck rally?

No, I'm on a date.

(piano playing gentle music)

Hey, sorry about that.
I had to...

Let me guess. Work.

(chuckles) Oh.

-Let me get this.
-It's okay. I got it.

Thank you.

We need to talk about something.

Oh, no. Nothing good
ever comes after that.

-It's not bad.
-Or that. (chuckles)

-I promise.
-(both chuckle)

I just want to set
some parameters

for us spending time together.

Parameters.

I'm totally up for hanging out
like this, but I'm just...

I'm not up for the whole...
the rest of it.

What's the rest of it?

I really love my work, and...

-I don't want to get knocked
off course. -You shouldn't.

And clearly you have a lot
going on professionally, too.

I don't mind
the occasional distraction,

like the other night;
I just, um...

I'm just not up
for the big, messy ones.

-This is about the helicopter.
-No.

Well, I mean,
the helicopter, the scars,

-you leaving, it's...
-Cathy, look.

I-I'm not trying
to hide anything from you.

Jack, I'm not asking
for anything.

I just want to keep it casual.

Are you okay with that?

Yeah.

(both chuckle)

-(children giggling)
-(indistinct chatter)

-Hello.
-Hello.

Is Mr. Sadik here?

Come in.

Thank you.

Mr. Sadik?

Oh... hello.

Hello.

(coughs)

Did someone send you here?

Yes. A man in
my neighboring tent... Rifaat.

He told me
I should speak to you.

Sit down.

Thank you.

Stinks out there, eh?

I heard a pipe burst.

Please.

We want to go to Europe.

The journey is very hard.

Very dangerous.

And it's going to cost you.

How much do you want?

How much do you have?

I'm sorry...

It's all I have, I swear!

This?

Maybe for just one of you.

No, no, please.

I have two small daughters.

I can't help you now.

But once you have more money...

come back.

♪ ♪

(indistinct chatter)

(door buzzes)

(door opens, closes)

Ah, merci.

Peace be upon you.

Come here, you.

How are you?

(Suleiman sighs)

What?

You don't like my new look?

What did they do to you?

(door buzzes)

Nobody did anything to me.

The whole story is,
I've met some people here.

And thank God.

God helped me.

What the fuck
are you talking about?

Ever since our parents died,

I've never felt like
I belonged anywhere.

Until now.

(sniffles, scoffs)

In prison?

My body is in prison, yes.

This is the first time I felt
that my mind and soul...

are free.

I want every Muslim

to feel that sense of belonging
that I feel.

God has put me on a path
to realize that.

(door buzzes, opens)

And he's going
to show me the way.

Time's up.

(Suleiman speaks French)

I promise you...

everything will be different
when I get out.

Peace be with you.

No, brother.

Not if she's been
with you first.

(both laughing)

♪ ♪

(jazz music playing
over speakers)

Jesus.

What?

Want a little pancakes
with your syrup?

You want to talk about it?

About what?

So, I talked to the C.O.

And?

He told me to take some leave.

Ten days to decompress.

Whatever the fuck that means.

He ordered you?

As of tomorrow.

-So what's wrong with that?
-(grunts)

Go to Lake Mead, get some pussy,

-chill out.
-Fuck Lake Mead!

It's not like taking leave
is gonna solve anything.

Then what will?

(sighs)

I-I was in the top three percent
in my class at flight school.

And then,
a month before graduation,

some dickhead master sergeant
comes and says,

"Everybody pack your shit.
The drone program needs bodies."

I was supposed to be a pilot.

So, what,

you're pissed 'cause you didn't
get the duty station you wanted?

No...

It's not about me, Ava.
It's this. It's what we do.

We sit in a trailer
10,000 miles away

and we push a button
and someone dies.

It don't matter
if we're 10,000 miles away

or 10,000 feet in the air;
it's the same shit.

No, it's not.

Pilots, real pilots,
they go to war.

They can get shot down,
they can get captured,

they can die.

We sit in a trailer
and we play video games.

And then we come here
and we have fucking breakfast?

You're my boy,
but you're trippin'.

Every bad guy I put in the dirt

is one less bomb that goes off
in a market somewhere,

one less car that blows up
at a checkpoint full of Marines.

And when we check in,

I need to know
that my wingman has my back.

So whatever it is you need to do
to get your mind right,

you go do it.

-Dr. Ryan, are you ready?
-JACK: I think so.

-We got this?
-TAREK: (clears throat) Yeah.

It's all set up.

Sign in with the username
he used in Paris.

JACK:
Yeah.

(majestic orchestral music
playing on-screen)

-(music stops)
-Okay.

That's the last game he played.
You're online now.

So you can message him directly
right there.

Now, when you're chatting
with him,

it'll translate directly from
English to French

and vice versa.

-Got it.
-Okay.

DGSI is on site in Chamonix,

ready to move in if Suleiman
sends anyone for his brother.

All right, everybody,
here we go.

♪ ♪

(indistinct radio chatter)

You ready?

In position.

Okay.

(rap music playing)

♪ ♪

Be careful.

Slowly.

(computer beeps)

Sheikh.

Ali?

(mutters)

(keyboard keys clicking)

-He's on. -Here we go.
-(exhales)

We're okay.

All right.

-Address? -Come on, Noreen.
-Right here.

(key clicks)

(phone chimes)

(men chattering)

I've got the address.

Get ready! (shouts)

Okay. Ask him how long.

Just a minute.

How do we know it's him?

Who else would know
to contact us this way?

You saw the news...

the French police are after him.

We have to be sure.

What are you doing?

Back-tracing the IP address.

All right, what's going--
Why isn't he answering?

TAREK:
He's tracing our I.P. address.

SINGER:
Is that a problem?

No. No, we expected it.
I got it.

(mouse clicking)

(exhales)

Okay.

Chamonix, France.

Oh, shit. Who's got this?

SINGER:
Let's go, guys!

Get on it, get on it.

NOREEN:
I've got it. Got the address.

SINGER:
Come on, right now, right now.

Pulling up sat imagery
right now.

Jesus Christ,
that was 15 years ago.

What if they've repainted it?

Best guess, guys.

-That looks old to me.
-You're right.

Just go with green.

-Green?
-Green. -Yes.

-'Cause we're sure, right?
-Yes.

Is it correct?

(whispers in Arabic)

(keyboard keys clicking)

-(exhales)
-He bought it.

(sighs)

Wait a minute, why isn't he...
why isn't he signing off?

Well, maybe
he's waiting for you.

TAREK:
He's still online, Jack.

-This is some kind of test.
-What?

JACK:
Shit.

(computer chimes)

(keyboard keys clicking)

-GREER: Fuck.
-All right, shut it down.

-It's not over.
-He knows no one's coming.

-It's not over. Just wait.
-It's a lie.

-He knows no one's coming.
-Just wait a second.

Shit.

(tires screeching)

-Ryan.
-What are you doing?

SINGER:
I said shut it down, Ryan.

We have to close.

Wait a minute.

(keyboard keys clicking)

Jesus Christ,
he knows who you are.

(keyboard keys clicking)

SINGER:
Careful.

Jack.

(computer chimes)

(keyboard keys clicking)

(computer chimes)

FARNSWORTH:
Who the fuck is Hanin?

Just wait a minute.
He's onto something.

-TAREK: He's gone.
-I knew it.

Whoa, what the fuck
just happened?

If it wasn't true,
he would've denied it.

Ryan, denied what?
Denied what?

Are you sure about this?

-I'm sure.
-SINGER: Sure about what?

There's a woman.

There's a woman
in a Turkish refugee camp

who claims she's his wife.

It's her.

Then find her.

(crickets chirping)

♪ ♪

(exhales)

(sniffles)

Talk to your boss.

I took care of everything.

Everything is fine.

Let's go, let's go!

♪ ♪

The woman and the two girls?

Where are they?