All language subtitles for Strike Back S8x01

Sergeant McAllister,

have you heard of the section initiative?

Dangerous soldiers for dangerous missions?

- Are you in? - What do you think?

My name is Sergeant Samuel Wyatt.

Wyatt? McAllister. I'm here to get you out.

You may just be okay. You asshole!

Wyatt, McAllister?

Lance Corporal Gracie Novin. Get in.

The target... Omair Idrisi.

Intel suggests Idrisi is purchasing weapons for a major attack.

Did you know Lowry was a British agent?

Donovan only got us in to clean up her mess.

No one could ever know.

If you come home empty-handed,

that story does not have a happy ending.

Today's the day you die.

Maybe this was all for something.

Hell, maybe we even made the world a better place.

Suspension's lifted.

- We're being deployed? - Malaysia.

- Colonel Alexander Coltrane! - Seems nice.

Team, this is Lance Corporal Chetri.

I felt we could use some support.

Russian FSB, special forces.

Zarkova! British military intelligence.

You are the assholes who broke into the GRU server building

and blew it up?

Yeah, we're those assholes.

You know what the Russians are looking for?

Two-hundred-fifty kiloton warhead.

You were at a dead end and I have the way out.

Isn't that technically treason?

Only if I come home empty-handed.

Terrorists, nuke,

corrupt military unit coming after us.

This gonna be fun.

Bravos, we need wings,

we need equipment and we need to move.

And guns.

Got a feeling we're gonna need a lot of fucking guns.

Two-minutes-fifty till launch.

Move!

Protected the whole of British military, so...

What do you want, Mac? A medal?

- Could've been worse. - This guy's something else.

I understand you don't want to go back to the Balkans,

not after what happened,

but it's a high-priority mission,

and the clock is ticking.

As I've always told you, Alexander,

they're orders.

You don't have to like them.

You just have to follow them.

This is Zero.

I have eyes on two armed tangos,

Albanian mafia.

Possibly more inside.

Expect significant contact.

Eyes on your approach.

Initiate distraction.

Hold on.

Clear.

- Clear. - Clear.

Clear.

Move up.

Bravos Two and Three take the ground floor.

Bravo One and I will take the first.

Find and extract the hostage.

Any idea why this hostage is so important?

That's classified.

Moving.

Wyatt.

Jesus.

Fuck me. She's still warm.

Matteo Ricci, a journalist from "Reuters."

Who the hell are we rescuing?

Fuck knows, man?

Didn't know you spoke the language, boss.

Barely.

Save the chit-chat for later, Sergeant.

Boss?

Eyes on asset.

Dr. McCluskey, Colonel Alexander Coltrane.

We're here to get you out.

Is that what he told you?

You should be more honest with your men, Colonel.

What's she talking about?

Move the asset out.

Yankee secure.

Moving reciprocal.

Copy that, Zero Alpha.

You okay to stand?

We good?

Don't know, mate.

Bodies downstairs.

ID says they're journalists.

Those poor things.

They were only doing their job.

Picking up hostile chatter on comms.

Could be backup en route.

Hold it there.

Is the package safe?

No, it's not.

Where is it?

In a secure lab facility.

And how secure is "secure"?

They were very persuasive.

So to confirm, you have given up

the location and access intel concerning the package

to the Albanian mafia, of all people?

The package?

You don't even know what it is, do you?

I know I have my orders.

- Oh, yes. - They were sure to mention that.

Sign on the dotted line.

Protocol 12-33 swinging above my head.

What the hell's a 12-33?

It's a British military directive

that sanctions extrajudicial killing.

It means that you can put a bullet through my head

without feeling bad about it.

We're here to extract you, love, not execute you.

Right?

Secure the exfil route.

Boss?

You have an order.

You gonna shoot her here in cold blood?

I will not tell you again, Sergeant.

What did they say?

Did they say I'm a traitor or an enemy of the state?

You have no idea what's going on.

McAllister, you're making a very big mistake.

Probably, yeah.

But I want you to think about what we're doing.

We are recovering an asset and dealing with them,

as per our orders.

We are doing our job.

Your people don't want me dead because of what I've done.

It's for what I planned to...

Blow the whistle.

I was gonna tell the world the truth.

Sergeant.

This is fucked.

What is the package?

A few years ago, in an abandoned Kosovo war lab,

our men found something.

A strain of hemorrhagic fever.

It's a weaponized virus, and...

rather than destroy it, I was sent to develop it.

Are you trying to tell me that the British military

has been working on some sort of bioweapon?

Oh, not some sort.

The worst sort.

Sorry, Colonel, we're not the good guys

in this one.

Zero Alpha, we have inbound.

Five armed tangos, exterior main doors.

Copy. Move to RV.

Moving now.

Bravo Three, secure vehicle for exfil.

Stay in cover!

Keeping the target alive.

That's a novel approach to a kill order.

We haven't done talking yet.

If you say so, Colonel.

You need to tell us the location of the package.

Yankee down!

Pop smoke!

On three. Three!

- Permission to speak, sir? - Denied.

There's nothing on Dr. McCluskey.

What do you mean, nothing?

Well, as it was a covert operation,

she'd have been working under an alias,

which we don't have.

We don't have clearance for her military records,

and there's no record of a McCluskey

living or working in the city, so nothing.

Well, get me something,

because we need to find the lab

where this bioweapon is stored

before the Albanians get their hands on it.

Right.

Go on, then.

You got 30 seconds.

Pardon my French, sir, but what the fuck was that?

You told us it was an extraction.

Rescue a kidnapped asset from the Albanian mafia.

No mention of a hit job or any fucking bioweapons.

McAllister, nothing?

'Cause you were quite vocal before.

I've said my peace, boss,

that we should think about what we're doing here.

What we're doing, Sergeant,

is following orders.

Technically, chasing down the mafia,

stopping them getting their hands on this weapon...

That's mission creep, not orders, sir.

You did ask.

I didn't ask.

I've just found something.

It was her birthday last month.

Her son sent her a card

addressed to McCluskey, her real name.

It was delivered to 75 Ruga Susamit.

It's about 15 minutes from here.

Did she use her alias on the rental agreement?

It was done under a shell company.

- You two, get over there. - Find me

something that gives us her place of work.

I'll see if Whitehall will declassify any of this,

which they won't.

Rest assured, you're not the only ones in the dark here.

McAllister, a word.

- Look, sir... - Never...

start a conversation with "look."

I wasn't questioning your authority right there.

That's exactly what you were doing,

and it's not the first time.

You clearly have your own ideas of how we should be operating.

- Of course not. - Which is why

I'm recommending you for officer training.

What, as a punishment?

As an opportunity.

You've reached a ceiling here, and you seem to have

a desire to take charge.

And when would this be?

Soon as we've mission complete.

I'm not sure I'm ready to leave the field

just yet, sir.

Feels like I've got a few good years left in me.

You might be in shape now, more or less,

but time's against you.

You're doing all right.

Yeah, but I look after myself.

Think about it before I change my mind.

Oh, and I almost forgot.

If you ever disobey a direct order

in the field again...

I'm finished.

We understand each other, then.

Good.

Clear.

Clear.

Wow, I love what she's done with the place.

Albanians gave it a thorough search, then.

I'll start here, work my way back to the kitchen.

Oh, milk and two sugars, love.

Coming right up.

You didn't speak up

when Coltrane had the gun on her.

Not my place.

You didn't speak up, either.

Not my place.

McCluskey knew exactly what she was doing.

So you're saying she deserved it.

Saying if you live by the sword...

Some people can say the same about us.

But technically,

she was only following orders.

We're nothing like McCluskey.

That's not your name.

Aletheia Labs.

Short stuff, you owe me a drink.

Shit. Down!

Hey! Hey!

You're soldiers, right?

I have a lot of time for soldiers.

- Oh, well, great. - Let's have a beer sometime.

Some other time, maybe.

- Oh, shit! - Move!

Go, go, go, go!

- We got what we came for. - Let's get the fuck out of here.

Zero, we got an ID badge.

Aletheia Labs.

Engaged hostile. We can't confirm his identity,

but he's a big bastard.

- Aletheia Labs. - Plotting course for you now.

- Take point. - Get eyes on the place.

Rendezvous with Bravos Two and Three when they arrive.

Lance Corporal Chetri and I will secure a perimeter.

- Copy that, boss. - And yes,

we are a little outside our remit here,

so don't go blowing anything up.

When do we ever blow anything up?

Open it up.

My men have your colleagues.

Hesitation is not a good idea.

Hey. What do we got?

15 hostages, five armed tangos.

How we gonna handle this?

Go in through the front, hit them hard and fast,

give them no time to react.

Risky.

Hey, you saw those bodies hanging up at the factory.

These guys aren't fucking around.

We secure the hostages, sweep the levels,

find that bioweapon.

Copy that.

- Any questions? - No.

Yeah, I got one.

How badly did Coltrane kick your ass?

He's making me an officer.

Get up. Let's do this.

Son of a bitch.

Got a runner!

You good?

Yeah.

Ah, shit.

Mac's moving upstairs. We gotta go.

Novin!

Coming.

Hey!

Hey!

Rooftop. Checking possible.

Go.

Mac, he's on the move, headed southwest!

Geez! I'm hit.

Oh, fuck!

Doctors say he won't be awake

for another few hours at least.

Keep me updated.

He's our one link to what's going on.

Sir, about earlier...

We'll talk later.

I imagine you have some questions, Alexander.

Well, I'd start with why the hell the British

are developing bioweapons.

I don't know.

Long answer...

way above my pay grade.

Come on, James.

You're deputy head of the SIS, for Christ's sake.

So you know how far up this goes.

Now, some fucking idiot in command

will have justified it as a bio-defense deterrent.

Do you know what the Marburg virus is?

Viral hemorrhagic fever similar to Ebola.

Hmm. You always were smart.

So the Serbs were developing a weaponized strain

during the Balkans conflict,

and our good Doctor McCluskey

completed that work...

Better, stronger, faster.

In which case, I don't blame her

for developing a conscience.

No?

You can imagine the shitstorm that would've created.

Anyway, ethics aside,

just as well we were monitoring her.

Unfortunately, so were the Albanians.

Do we know why they want it?

The only thing we know for sure is,

if this disappears

down those black river Balkan trade routes,

and then the next time we'll hear about it

will be on the 6:00 news.

Biological weapon with Her Majesty's fingerprints

all over it, and that's the sort

of international fucking nightmare

that we can do without.

So you want us to chase down a weapon

that shouldn't officially exist.

I created 20 for times like these,

Alexander.

There is one more thing.

The driver that we captured...

I think it could be Branko Hajroviç.

Hajroviç was marked dead at the end of the war.

- Presumed dead. - Missing in action.

And what does facial recognition say?

Says I'm wrong.

I know it's not easy being here,

but stay focused.

It's a bloody mess.

And get the bastards

before there are piles of bodies

and questions that we can't answer.

Come on.

You speak English in front of the staff,

and if you want to learn how to fight, ask me,

not your... bodyguard.

And stop giving your mother shit about the wedding.

Can't go through with it.

Barely know the girl, let alone love her.

She's Veroni. It's business.

What's this?

That's your grandfather.

He should be buried in the family plot,

but that is all he deserves.

He caused the blood feud with the Veronis.

But now, you're going to marry one of them,

and our family will finally be free.

And please,

smile, for fuck's sake.

One day, all of this is gonna be yours.

The driver's name is Jovan Nishani.

He primarily works as a fixer for the Demachi crime family.

This is the head of the family, Edon Demachi.

His son, wife.

That's the guy that was at the lab.

That's pretty hands-on for a mafioso boss.

Well, the Albanian mafia split into family clans,

and the Demachis are quite low down that ladder.

That being said, a weaponized virus

would be worth millions on the black market.

Are you sure about the driver's ID?

Well, I've got files going back 20 years.

Petty criminal. Nothing stands out.

Dig in. Make sure.

We brought him across the border

from Kosovo for a reason.

He may be our best link to recovering that virus.

Yes, sir.

Wait, how dangerous is this thing?

You know, on a scale of, like,

"Holy shit"

to, like, "Holy shit"?

Oof. Marburg's

one of the most virulent pathogens out there.

There's no treatment, no vaccine.

Body goes into shock.

Your internal organs bleed out.

And if this one's been modified...

Yeah, all right, we get the picture.

It's bad fucking news. We need to get it back.

Sir, the driver's cell phone's cracked.

There's a meet tomorrow

in the San Marco district of Venice.

There's no definite location yet,

but I'm running traces on all possible Demachi comms.

- What we thinking? - Trying to sell it?

- Stake out the area. - Let's try and find out.

We're going to Venice. Nice.

Beautiful city to get shot in.

ID the players.

Locate the virus.

I'll remain here in case the driver wakes up

and we get better intelligence.

- Now move out. - Copy that.

Lance Corporal, is everything okay?

Yes, boss.

Staying focused on the mission.

You?

Same, but if ever you need to talk...

Thank you, sir.

Yeah, I'd say the facial recognition's

gonna be a bit of a problem.

Probably why they arranged the meet here.

Needles and fucking haystacks.

- All right, standard recon. - Look out for bags, packages,

any suspicious behavior.

Yeah, well, I'm looking at a guy in a goddamn fox mask,

which would normally pass as suspicious.

Isn't that him?

Edon Demachi.

It's not him.

Sorry, mate.

He thought you were someone else.

Zero Alpha, could really use some intel from that driver.

I was hoping to avoid this.

Give me a moment.

Good morning.

Tell me about Venice,

about the meet.

Do you know who I am?

You're the one who shot me.

No, before that.

I served in the Balkans.

I was a lieutenant,

first with the UNPROFOR,

later with the NATO KFOR peacekeeping forces.

Sorry.

I do not know.

How does a Serbian end up working for the Albanian mafia?

Ah, how does anyone end up anywhere?

Life happens.

Tell me about the Venice meet.

I've not heard anything about that.

It was marked on your phone.

San Marco, today.

Then maybe I choose to forget.

Do you choose to forget Branko Hajroviç as well?

I don't know who that is.

I'm not the person you think I am!

Please!

Please! Please! Ah! Ah!

Bosnia, 1992.

You were a captured Serbian officer.

We made a deal.

I'd have you released in return for key information.

We both wanted to find a way

to stop the atrocities that were unfolding.

And then two weeks later,

in the Drina Valley,

you were involved in a massacre.

No.

- An entire village. - Every man, every boy.

They were just children.

No, that was not me.

This scar behind your ear

is consistent with facial reconstruction surgery.

You clearly want me to be this man, don't you?

For what reason, huh?

Revenge? Peace of mind?

Wanting it will not make it so.

But Venice, yes.

Maybe I can help you there

if you let me go.

Not an option.

It's the only option. Look.

Police outside.

Spend the rest of my days in jail?

No thank you.

So come on.

How much does this information

really matter to you, Colonel, huh?

Now talk.

Presidenziale Hotel, third floor,

1500 hours.

Shit. It's happening now.

Presidenziale's on Calle de la Corvi, due west.

All right, this way.

We're en route.

Right, move into position, observe,

and ID the principals.

Fuck.

Wait.

Help me! Please.

I did not tell you everything.

You have no idea what he's planned for today.

Vantage point. Let's go.

Move. Move.

Still a few minutes away.

Get anything?

Hold on.

Yes. 2:00.

I have eyes on alpha.

Buyer appears to be male, late 20s,

has a limp.

I had hoped to meet the organ grinder,

not the monkey.

I speak for Zayef.

It's a little insulting

that he can't speak for himself.

Zayef.

I think maybe he's the big enchilada

behind all this.

The advance has been transferred.

And the sample?

Looks like a deal's going down.

Some sort of package being handed over.

I'm trying to find out more, but the audio feed is down.

Bravo, I can get a shot from here.

Just say the word.

Zero Alpha told us to observe and ID.

Hold for now.

Zero Alpha, are we good to go?

Zero Alpha?

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Handle with care.

Something's up.

He's not responding.

So what's it gonna be, Mac?

We gonna go loud or what?

He said to observe only;

Next time I pulled anything, it's my career.

So?

Fuck it. Let's do it.

Bravo Two, we're moving in. Go loud.

I'll take the front. You take the back.

Copy that, Bravo One.

What is it you didn't tell me?

I can save you, but you need to help me.

The buyers.

They want to know it's legitimate.

We have a strain of the virus,

a taste.

Bravo One, do you copy?

They're going to release a sample of the weapon

at the festival.

- Already made the call. - We're going loud.

Cheers, boss.

I'm taking the shot.

Stay!

The glass is bulletproof.

I'm going mobile.

Stop playing fucking games with me.

No, this is not our doing.

This deal is as important to us

as it is to you.

We'll stay in touch.

Alphas alerted and on the move.

Principals scattering both directions.

Edon!

Move!

Let's go!

Fuck off.

Move, move!

Package heading east.

Alpha One on the run.

No eyes.

Move! Move.

- Move! - Okay, move!

Move! Move!

Package last seen entering Saint Peter's Square.

We've lost eyes. Repeat, we have lost eyes.

Right, Wyatt.

Anyone who doesn't run, that's the target.

Right.

- There he is! - There, white mask!

Don't move! Don't move!

Move! Move!

Move! Move! Get back!

Get it? Get it?

Got it. Got it.

Secure?

I don't know.

Yeah.

You fucking shot him.

- Well, he was gonna throw it. - I figured it was 50/50.

60/40 at best.

Hey, it worked, didn't it?

I might have eyes on the buyer.

Moving to intercept.

Hey!

- Package secure. - One tango down.

Remaining has exfilled.

No friendly casualties.

Copy that, Bravo One.

You're not going to help me, are you?

I'm not who you think I am.

You're going to let an innocent man die,

bleeding out like a pig?

Hardly that innocent.

Oh, please.

What's your name?

Jovan.

Jovan Nishani.

What is your name?

What we did

was for survival:

Exterminate an enemy

before they get a chance to do the same to us.

It was a war.

No.

It wasn't a war.

You're no different.

Your people stood aside. You let it happen.

There were lines that we couldn't cross,

a mistake I will not be making again.

Whether I am Jovan or Branko,

what difference does it make now, huh?

We cannot change the past.

Where has it gotten you,

Alexander, my old friend?

Right here,

sitting across from you,

my old friend.

So, we go after the people selling the bio-weapon,

and that means the Demachi family.

You make the deal happen, you say you work for me.

We locate the son and see if he'll work with us.

Nobody gets hurt, nobody gets harmed.

We just want the weapon.

Your friend said if I helped,

my father wouldn't be harmed.

What if I wanted him hurt?

Trains on the move, Zero Alpha on board.

Package is the priority. Shoot to kill.

I've got this!