All language subtitles for Strike.Back.S02E03.720p.BluRay.x264-AVCHD

Confirming targets.

We've got you.

Target one confirmed.
Move in.

I repeat, target one confirmed.

What the fuck is going on?

I'm standing out
like a dildo in Disneyland.

Hold your position.

Sierra one, camera up.

We see you.

Target one is approaching.

Target one, Beruti Lefu.

South African national.

Middle-ranking underworld player.

Seen here with a known contact of...

Latif.

Okay, got eyes
on the "Three Stooges."

Looks like they got to
where they're going.

He's hired muscle
and he's on the move.

I want you up there.

I want to know what he's carrying.

But, most of all, I want
to know who he's meeting.

- Status?
- Sierra in position.

Kilo in position.

- Delta in position.
- Who are you talking to?

- All right, let's move in three, two
- Who are you talking to?

No one, buddy, no one.
Just keep cooking.

What the hell is that?
Who are you talking to?

- Not now, buddy.
- What the fuck?

- Who are you talking to?
- God!

You're talking to God?

This is fucking funny?

Hey God!
He's talking to you.

Hey, God, the American
is talking to God!

- Come on.
- Shoosh?

- Do you hear that?
- Yeah, let's go!

Target visual!

Targets on the move!

Capture. Do not kill.
Repeat, capture, do not kill.

Fuck!

Stop!
Put the gun down!

Shit.

Give me status.

Confirm.
Target is alive.

Is he alive? Confirm.

- Is he alive?
- Shit.

Target two is down.
I repeat, target two is down.

Stay down!

For fuck sake.
Capture, not kill.

This is eyewitness news.

A cloudy start for the day,
but clear skies

are expected to revert later.

Cape town...

Are we good to go, Viho?

Yep. Let's hit the road.

All doors locked,
sealed, and secured.

Unit 71, travelling.

- You are free to go.
- Roger that.

You'd better hope he talks.

If I hadn't taken him out,
he would've killed you.

He only got that chance
because of you.

I don't need you rushing
to my assistance, Sergeant.

You end up killing two of the men
we're supposed to bring in.

Threatening our only lead to Latif.

- If it hadn't been for Scott...
- Talking about me again?

Well?

He's the muscle,

the petty thief from Soweto.

We're not being held up
by a common criminal.

- Right, with me.
- Yes, Ma'am.

Now, let me make this clear.

Whoever it is you're most afraid of
right now is nothing...

compared to me.

All right.
He's got good family?

You've got a mother, got a father...

and two sisters.

Find them.
Bring them in. Leave no trace.

- Yes, Ma'am.
- Wait!

I don't know who the man
is we were going to see.

- I didn't see his face.
- What was in the case?

What was in the case?

What happened out there,
happened because of us.

There is no "us."

Michael, you made your feelings
perfectly clear.

When we're out there,
you can treat me as a soldier.

He sold route maps
for an armored truck company.

Get them all on the phone!

I want every truck, every driver,
stopped and secured!

This isn't where my dad lives.

Don't you worry, lad.

You'll see your dad soon enough.

Terry...

Jeff, that's my boy.

Jeff, that's my son.

What the fuck?

Unit 71, state your position.

If we go out there, we are dead.

- This is command control. Come in, over.
- Understand?

- That's my boy.
- You understand?

That's my fucking boy!

This is command control...

Unit 71. Come in, over...

Unit 71? Please respond.

- I'm picking that up...
- You can't pick that up.

- That's my boy!
- This is command control.

Please, state your position, over.

State your position, Unit 71.

Unit 71, state your position, over...

Jeff, fuck man!

Unit 71, please, come in, over.

Listen to your dad.
Come over here for a moment.

Where are you taking my son?

- Take me. Where are you taking him?
- Stay there.

I want you to look at the trees.

You see the way they bend
in the wind?

I want you to watch the shapes
that they make. Okay?

- Please...
- That's a fine boy you have there.

Go.

Come on, Hugo! Come on, let's go!

Hugo, move!

Fuck me!

For fuck's sake.

Take his hands off.
Put a bullet through his teeth.

How did we miss this?

A call did go out. The robbery
was already in progress.

All three guards were shot.

- Strange, no money was taken.
- What about the other guy?

Shot, hands severed,
jaw blown to pieces, presumably...

To hide his identity, yeah.

Well, the only survivor
was the little boy.

Son of one of the dead.

He was abducted near his home
earlier in the afternoon.

The CCTV in the back of the van
was sprayed.

But we've managed to reconfigure
some of the images captured beforehand.

- Daniel Connolly.
- Hardcore IRA.

The Good Friday Agreement
put him on the run.

Kosovo, Chechnya...

Now, he touts himself around
as some kind of mercenary.

There was something else on that van.

I want to know what it was.

This is not about money.

This is about hate.

What's the matter?

Tell me.

I had a dream last night.

I was a boy,

back at my mother's old house.

You could smell the chips
frying in the kitchen.

And the creaky floorboard,
on the bottom step.

I came down the stairs
and opened the front door.

Someone was standing there...

Someone I knew.

They'd come to kill me.

To kill me...

Teague!

So?

Hugo downloaded the files,
before he got shot.

We're going visiting.

But Daniel, the data's no good to us
without a hacker.

- We don't have Hugo.
- There's another Hugo coming.

- What you got there?
- What have I got?

That, Sergeant, is a future-proof,
impenetrable

encryption data storage unit.

You know, in my experience,

nothing is impenetrable.

It wasn't money they were after,
so what was it?

Data, on the encryption device.

- What kind of data?
- Well, that we don't know.

Different units belong
to various organizations.

But, somehow, I doubt
they were interested in the payroll

for the Cape Town ballet,
or the University's annual accounts.

They might just be interested

in the security protocols
of a major defense contractor.

ATAT Systems.

Who's the main man here,
in Cape Town?

- Kenneth Bratton.
- Did you say, "Bratton"?

You have our attention.

Chemical weapons guy. Latif.

Could be something.

Mr. Bratton.

Who are you people?
How did you get in here?

Hi, Mom.

Lovely family, Ken.

What have you done with them?

They're fine.

They'll be fine.

What do you want?

I think you know exactly what I want.

You know Bratton was captured
by the Republican Guard in Iraq?

- And, John Porter in February, 2003.
- John Porter got him out.

No weapons designer should
have been anywhere near there.

And that was about the same time
Scott was booted out of Delta Force.

What if there's a connection?

The man that got shot in the face
at the heist may have been Hugo Lynch.

- A hacker that worked with Connolly.
- Why?

Because a new computer hacker
just came to town.

An American know as Julian Buckley.

Wanted for cleaning out the United Bank
of Ireland two years ago.

And he's been flagged?

By Interpol.

In from Kinshasa. Paid for his ticket
in cash two hours before the flight.

You think he's a replacement
for Lynch?

I think it's a possibility, Colonel.

I've tracked his hire car to an address
in the Bo-Kaap area.

I'd like to volunteer
to talk to Bratton.

- Volunteer?
- Yes, Ma'am.

Stonebridge?

- I need you guys out in the field.
- Finally.

You're gonna be tracking
a man called Buckley.

Sergeant Richmond will brief you.

I need you to go and see Bratton.

All right? Kid gloves.

You have your orders.

I'm the one that should be
talking to Bratton.

Now's not the time.

"Now's not the time."

Let me remind you of something.

I got kicked out of the army
for something that I did not do.

And pricks like Bratton are out playing
"Hide the fucking chemical weapons."

- You don't know that.
- I do know that.

There's something else I know.
I got screwed over in Iraq, by someone.

I wanna find them and kill them.
I thought you were with me on that one?

Yeah, I think, maybe, your personal life
get in the way of this mission.

Personal life?

That's fucking funny,
coming from you.

What are you talking about?

I'll tell you what I'm talking about.

- If you wanna play hide the sausage...
- That's genius coming from you!

You have no fucking clue
what you're talking about.

Prick.

Asshole.

That's him.

I've never been so glad
to see a terrorist in my life.

- Thank you for seeing me so quickly.
- It's fine.

The British High Commission isn't
in the business of wasting people's time.

And you're here as a?

Criminal Intelligence liaison
with the South African police.

Right.

Miss Marshall, this is Darin Morgan.

- Pleasure.
- You're with ATAT?

He's our military consultant.

Just oiling the wheels, that's all.

If you'd like to come through...

Thank you for your concern.

As a result of the robbery

I've requested that our security codes
are changed immediately.

If I can advise you, sir,
I do think you need to be careful.

Of course.

Have you had any contact
with this man?

- No. Who is he?
- His name is Daniel Connolly.

We believe he may be allied
with a terrorist called Latif.

He's the one who attacked
the hotel in India.

His stated aim is to attack the West
with a weapon of mass destruction.

Well, he's looking
in the wrong place.

We design weapon systems here
but we don't house them.

That would be against South African law.
And we're very scrupulous.

Your family not around?

No, school holidays.
They're at our beach house.

Sounds nice.

Yeah, it is.

I appreciate the offer,
but my security is more than adequate.

I understand you were in Iraq,
before the invasion.

- Yeah, that's right.
- Doing what, might I ask?

I was asked to report
on Saddam's weapons stock.

Which was non-existent?

He fooled cleverer men than me.

It's my card.

Thank you.

She's military.

What did she want?

Something about
the bank raid robbery.

And, what's that got to do with Iraq?

I don't know.

Let me speak to a contact
in Whitehall.

I'll find out where she's from
and get them to back off.

We don't want any trouble, Ken.

What the fuck is going on?

Fuck, I think he made us.

No, he didn't make us.

Shit. He made us. Move!

Go around, buddy!

Move, move!

Stay down!
Stay down, now!

Stay down! Fuck!

Fuck!

Someone call an ambulance!

Get down!

Fucking move!

Fucker!

Get out of the way!

What the fuck are you doing, man?

Michael, get a medic!

You were supposed
to call 20 minutes ago.

Yeah, I'm here now.

The Kimberly Hotel.

Be there in 10 minutes,

no weapons, or the deal's off.

Kimberly Hotel, 10 minutes, got it.

Don't worry about that.
Come on.

Bring that up.

Colonel Grant,
you wanted to speak to me?

When you met with Bratton,

did you, at any point,
intimate that he was lying?

Certainly not. Although
I'm fairly certain he was.

He's put in a complaint,
and wants you to back off.

- What does the Ministry say?
- Well, they're all twitchy aren't they?

ATAT's one of the largest
publicly-traded companies in the U.K.

Yes, and Connolly is targeting them.

He should be as concerned
about that as we are.

- Why isn't he?
- Excuse me.

Stonebridge and Scott
need to speak to you urgently.

Colonel, Buckley's down.

And Scott's going
to take his identity.

- Run that by me, again.
- Scott took a call on Buckley's phone.

The bloke heard an American accent,
must've thought it was Buckley.

Yeah, 'cause we all
sound the same, right?

And you're seriously suggesting Scott
goes in there as Buckley, unarmed?

Right. The only thing is,
he has 10 minutes to get there.

How do we know Connolly
won't recognize Buckley?

He had half a torn playing card,
in his pocket.

We don't think he will.

There's also the fact
that Buckley's an expert hacker.

What's she saying?

Well, I can brief him in Cyber Ops.

In ten minutes?
On the phone?

The alternative is
we surround the building.

Bring his contact in
for interrogation.

Yeah, but if we do that,
Connolly's in the wind.

Put Scott on.

I want you to listen to me
very carefully.

Yeah, I'm listening.

Patch this through.

No, Colonel,
I've got his file in my hand.

It's a green light, buddy.

And she's Irish, is she?

Kate Marshall.

Captain Kate Marshall.

She's British Army intelligence.

Darling, you should be ashamed
of yourself.

We have a contact
at the Ministry of Defense in London.

She's assigned
to some special tactical unit.

Led by...

Colonel Eleanor Grant.

Look, I'm telling you
everything I know.

I'm cooperating with you.

I want to know that my family
are going to be safe.

This'll soon be over, Ken.

I have a good feeling about this.

It's all going to end...

perfectly.

We're late.

Yeah, well...

He doesn't show up,
I'll just have myself a drink.

If I hear gunfire, I'll come help.

Don't worry yourself, buddy.
You hear gunfire, I'll be dead.

Here, that's mine.

I got Buckley's.

Can I grab a Laphroaig
on the rocks?

La-what?

- Laphroaig...
- Just give him a scotch.

Neat.

Thanks,

what are you drinking?

- Same.
- Can you make that two?

- Fuck me, that taste like...
- Shite.

Everything here is.

Well, I don't know about that.

Quite a lovely Irish accent going on?

Thank you.

You meeting someone?

You.

There's a room upstairs.

Want to see it?

Take your clothes off.

What's the matter?

I'm just wondering whether
you're going to fuck me or kill me.

Take them off, and you'll find out.

- What about you?
- Good things come to those who wait.

Is that a promise?

Well?

Turn around.

Do I get the part?

You sure do.

- Who's that?
- A friend.

I love a threesome.

That's not the threesome
I was talking about.

What's wrong?
Not pretty enough for you?

Shit.

I'm looking for a friend of mine.
Big guy. American.

Upstairs.

Scott's been taken, I'm in pursuit.

Charlie one is a gray-panel
van heading north.

Checking coordinates.

Bringing you onto visual.

We've got you.

- Zero one, do you have eyes on the van?
- Negative, I have no visual.

We're trying to track
Scott by his cell phone.

That's not gonna work!
Scott gave me his cell phone!

He took Buckley's with him.

I have two exits up ahead.
Muizenberg or the airport?

Julia, do you hear me?
Muizenberg or airport?

Satellite locked on Charlie one.

Two exits there. Which one?
Muizenberg or the airport?

You've got them.
They're right there with you.

Shit!

Charlie one is in the wind.
I repeat, Charlie one is in the wind.

Shit.

Satellite uplink's been lost.

The accepted wisdom is that,
whoever's in charge in Egypt,

in Libya, wherever,

there's always opportunities.

My enemy's enemy is my friend.

Should be our company motto.

You all right there, Ken?

Of course.

"My enemy's enemy is my friend."

If there was a problem,
you'd tell me?

You'd be the first.

Mr. Buckley, I presume.

I liked her welcome much better.

- You were late.
- I was followed.

- Oh yeah? By who?
- How the fuck should I know?

See, the thing is...

I have a unit of British military
intelligence looking for me.

Section 20...

Good for you.

It's headed by a woman
called Eleanor Grant.

Do you know her?

I don't know her.

See, back in the day,
she used to send pricks just like you...

To kill me.

Do you want my fucking services
or not?

Oh, yes, I do, very much.

But you're not Julian Buckley.

You're a fucking liar.

And fucking liars like you

all get the same treatment...

Fuck you!

Last coordinates were down
in the valley. Laurensford.

It's farm country.

All right, it's open country,
proceed with caution.

- Do you understand?
- Roger that.

Shit.

Fuck. Shit.

Eyes on Charlie One.

Fuck me!

Stonebridge, report.

Fuck!

Fuck you!

Fucking ***!

Sergeant, report!

Fuck you!

That was Scott.

I'm going in.

Fuck.