All language subtitles for TheInvisibleLine.2020.1p.E04

Subtitulado por: Movistar+

"I'VE OFTEN ASKED MYSELF,
WHO ARE MY PEOPLE?".

FRENCH BASQUE COUNTRY,
MAY 1968.

We'll be there in five minutes.

Do you have the photos?

Yes.

Photos, addresses, routines...

When you come back,

call your brother on this number.

A personal matter.

My mother?

No.

Your mother is a family matter.

I received this.

De Ia Fuente's routines,
the military governor of Guipuzcoa.

- Which one is it?
- Him.

This guy?

Needs to be checked,
but it's an option.

Taking out a military governor

would be like ripping out
one of Franco's balls.

We have these photos too.

Members of the regime skiing in France,
in Saint Lary.

Doesn't look complicated,
but it means operating in France.

However, it would have a big impact
internationally.

So would operating in Spain
and people would understand it better.

This shouldn't drag on forever, okay?

Right, but it won't be done
just any old way.

First, choose the best target,
then do it at the right time.

If we rush into it
or do things too quickly,

I'm convinced it'll go badly.

So you choose, you're the boss.

Those of us who are going to do it
will decide

and then face the consequences.

Txabi ...

As long as I'm in charge,
all decisions are made in Euskadi.

Jesus, I'm envious.

Makes you want to go to Paris
and stir up trouble.

Can you imagine this in Bilbao?

Yes.

This is good for us.

It shows that this is the way.

You have to take action
so that people react.

Our goal won't be reached
by throwing stones at the police.

- You'll have weapons.
- When?

In three weeks.

A month at the most.

New weapons.

Czechoslovakian.

Twenty-four guns
and four machine guns.

Where will you get the money
to pay for them?

Don't you worry about that,
I convinced the guys in Venezuela.

Take it with you.

I already have mine.

Fine, but you don't have too many,
do you?

No.

Maxi is waiting for you.

Txabi ...

Go for it!

Always.

Fatherland or death.

Fatherland or death.

THE INVISIBLE LINE

if we take down a fat cat,
they'll declare martial law

- and involve the army.
- That's what we want.

So people react and realise
once and for all.

We're talking about killing.

There's no turning back.

Then you have to ask yourself
if what we do

guarantees we can turn back.
And what does that even mean?

No one will give us a new nation
for free.

Dreams are not for free.

You have to be willing to get killed.

And you have to be willing to kill.

Besides, we already discussed this.

Txiki is pregnant.

Are you serious?

How far gone?

Quite a lot, almost five months.

Bloody hell!

What do you plan to do?

- She wants it.
- And you?

I do as well.

Bloody hell, Maxi!

How long have you known?

Two months.

Maxi! I'm carrying two guns.

- Calm down, Txabi. Take it easy.
- What do we do?

Take it easy.

Fuck him.

We either pray
or this turns into a gunfight.

Halt!
Stop!

- Stop it! Stop it!
- Stop the car!

- Stop the car!
- Halt!

- I said halt!
- Quick! Hurry!

Halt!

- Are they following us?
- No!

Get the bike! Come on!

We need to run for it!

Run! Run!

Freeze!

Hands behind your head, you bastard.

Behind your head!

Don't move.

Drop the gun.

Drop the gun!

Don't kill me!
Please, don't shoot.

Let's

Let's

Come on!
Come on!

The road to San Sebastian
will be teaming with police.

I have a sofa bed and a sleeping mat.

Who's here with you?

Here?
Mario, but he gets in late.

What about Zubi and Gaitxa?

They left.

- They left? Where to?
- Over the border.

- France?
- Yes.

- Did they live in this house?
- No, in a flat in Eibar.

Listen, morale is...

It's really low. Since El Correo Espanol
we haven't done anything.

- People dropped out.
- That's going to change.

Right, but if we don't hurry
we'll end up alone.

You didn't ask.

What?

You didn't ask how it's going to change.

Pepe knows me.

Right, Pepe?

He knows exactly what my example is.

- Your example?
- Yes.

Algeria.

What do you know about Algeria?

That the French had to get the hell out
by dropping bombs.

- What's up, Txabi?
- My notebook.

- Do you know Franco?
- No, but it's as if I did.

Really?

I always inspect the palace at Ayete
before he spends summer there.

I know the furniture he likes.

His wife loves French-style decor.

French- style?

They're like monarchs.
I'll take you one day if you want.

- When?
- When the commander calls me.

What will you tell him? You want to show
the palace to your lover?

I'll show you the bed
where Franco sleeps.

You and I could do it there.

You wouldn't dare.

Of course I would.

I'd get under his linen sheets with you

and shag you until the Generalisimo
found us.

That's what I'd like.

You're all talk.

Staying for dinner?

I have to go to the police station.

And later?

Home.

- Make something up and don't go.
- I can't do that.

Well, I might be leaving, too.

Where?

Miami.

Victor is doing really well
with the team.

Is that what he said?

They make big money with bets.

Really?

But you're a teacher.
Words are more your thing than numbers.

What would you know?

Not answering?

Maybe it's your son.

Or your wife.

Well, tell her I'm busy.

Hello?

It's for you.

Chamorro.

Why the hell has he got my number?

No idea.

Hurry UP-

Inspector.

Yes, yes...

I think that's him.
Looks just like him.

Follow me!

All clear in this area!

"A Handful of Rain."

The officer recognised him.

One of the two is Pepe.

Says he looks a lot
like the one in the drawing.

And the other one?

The one who knocked him out.

He's coming to look at sketches.
Says he'd never forget that face.

Were they coming from Hendaye?

That car didn't go via Irun.
I called border control.

So in Zarain.
Check it out, make investigations.

Find anything?

Poems.

Look.

It says:

"In the beacon of my eyes

I see my hands,
like tracks in the sea."

- Well, bugger me!
- Holy crap.

Yes.

He stumbles in the hills
and drops his poems.

We're looking for a poet.

A poet...

Hello?

Hey, this isn't the home number, is it?

Hi.

No, no.

I've been working at Gurrea's office
for a couple of weeks.

How are you?

Getting by.
That's about all.

How's Mum? How is she?

Fine.
Same as usual.

What is it, José?

I saw Julia.

She was asking for you.

SQ?

She's getting married, Txabi.

Did you hear me?

Married to who?

Someone from Neguri,
her regular boyfriend, I think.

Hey, Jose'...

- I have to hang up.
- No, wait, wait.

She said...

She wants to see you.

- What for?
- Don't know.

I didn't ask.

Txabi...

He's definitely an educated person.

Well-read, an extensive vocabulary,

and above all, he has an inner life.

- A real poet?
- Possibly. The contemporary type.

Sonnets are more my thing.

Free verse isn't poetry to me.

Although this young man
has a good grasp of grammar.

He has an academic background.

Take this sentence:

"The united force of the universe."

It sounds scientific.

There's no mention of God
or a mystical reference.

An atheist.

Probably a Marxist.

You'll have to look in bookshops,
literary circles...

There are lots of poets.

They're ten a penny out there.

Don't be so sure.

But I don't think there are many
who write like that.

Thank you, Sister Justina.

I'll tell my wife to make
some croquettes for you.

No, there's really no need.

Are you still angry about the drum?

No. But, please,
don't bring me anything.

Sometimes Ana has a foul temper.

But she's a saint.

A saint.

God be with you.

Junqueras.

The chief inspector
of the secret police in Vizcaya.

He leaves at eight every morning,
quarter past eight at the latest.

He always travels alone in his car.

If one of our cars
blocks the garage exit,

someone just has to get close
and shoot him through the window.

I think a machine gun is better
than a gun but...

It can be done both ways.

Candon.

He spends all his time driving around.

Impossible to keep an eye on him.

We'd have to get hold of his calendar,
which we can't.

He does have a habit.

Every fifteen days, always on a Monday,

he eats escargot at a restaurant.

He goes with two men.
Never the same guys.

The restaurant is
in the outskirts of Urretxu.

It's not easy, but it can be done.

This one is much more predictable.

Manuel Valencia.

Basque pelota in Bergara
every Saturday afternoon.

He watches all the matches
scheduled for that day.

Doesn't matter which.
Handball, Jai Alai, racket...

Betting is what he likes.

But he always goes with two thugs
who stick close by.

This is the trickiest one.

I think that if two or three of us go

and we get them in the terraces,

there shouldn't be any problem.

Meliton Manzanas.

No fixed schedule,
comes and goes at different times.

Doesn't use his own car, either.

We have no choice but to be patient,

take it in turn to watch him
and wait till he heads home.

Hi.

There's a basement under the stairs
going up to the flats,

the door is always open.

The perfect place
for someone to wait for him.

Someone should also wait outside
in a car.

They all seem feasible.

Well, Candon might be the toughest.

Look...

Valencia is easy
if two or three of us go.

We'll make the decision together.

- We need to do it soon.
- First we choose a target.

What about the weapons?

They'll be here soon.

- Anything else?
- No.

Get to it.

- Chilly, isn't it?
- Yes.

- I assume you know about poetry?
- More than some, less than others.

Right.

Let's see...

Maybe you can help me.
I'm looking for this poet.

"I am alone in time, alone."

"Man has fallen asleep."

"The stillness of the universe
pierces through me."

"Only my mind works
in a body that does not breathe."

Young, in his early twenties...

He might be from Bilbao.

He writes stuff about Bilbao.

About the sea...

- About heartache.
- Well...

I wouldn't know what to tell you.
He's young, you can tell by the style,

but there are lots of young poets.

- Some get published, others don't.
- Yes.

And do you think that this could be

what our poet looks like?

What?

Rings a bell?

- No, I'm sorry.
- Those young poets

would come here,
take an interest in literature...

Yes, some of them do.

How about we do something?
What if you keep that

and show it to the young people
when they come here

and ask them if they know him...?

If they know who he is,
where he lives, where I can find him...

I think his name is Pepe.

How long do I give you?
Aweek?

- But I don't...
- Yes you do. Yes you do.

Otherwise, I'll shut you down
for selling communist books.

Or I'll burn it down!

And I'll warm my hands
with all this shit.

So, what do I do?

Will you come and see me in a week,
or do I have to come back?

Yes, sir.

Wonderful.

"With your name,

I spread out my land upon the rain,
a wet and beautiful country.

The sea,

ever more present between
the long sunsets on the road to you."

This is my favourite bit.

"When I bow my spirit

and your smile is reborn in me."

- He's a romantic.
- Isn't it pretentious?

No.

Not at all.

- He's very lonely.
- But he has a gun.

Careful.

It has a touch of Rimbaud.

- Who?
- Arthur Rimbaud.

A French poet who died young.

He wrote all his poems
before he was 20.

Then he became a soldier.

See?

That's why I like talking to you.

Did you think about what I told you?

My trip to Miami.

First let me find the poet,
then we can talk, okay?

About everything.

You think I won't go, huh?

What I think
is that you mull things over.

That's what I think.

- I'm getting old, Meliton.
- So am I.

So am I.

Solution?

That was the good thing
about the Republic.

- What?
- Divorce.

- Hello.
- Hello.

- You look lovely.
- Thanks.

How are you?

- Fine.
- Yeah?

My brother said you wanted to see me.

I've been wanting to see you for ages.

I missed you.

He also told me you're getting married.

You look skinny, Txabi.

And you have bags under your eyes.

Look.

That table is where you split up
with me.

I didn't split up with you.

- Yes, you did.
- No, I didn't.

Yes, but in your own way.

You made it look like I was the one
leaving you.

What do you want, Julia?

You didn't make me come here
so you could invite me to your wedding?

You wouldn't come.

No, I don't think I could.

You'd have a hard time seeing me
with someone else.

And now you have other priorities,
right?

I don't mind you marrying someone else.

In fact, I'm happy for you, I...

I don't...

- I don't...
- You don't want what?

You're making fun of me.

Same as ever.
Some things never change.

Don't you love me anymore?

That's right.

I don't either.

- Great.
- That's good.

But I'm dying to kiss you.

What is it you want?
Cast out the demons before you marry?

Don't count on me for that.

Wait.

This is like a diary from '63.

Your worries, mine,

hopes.

Fears...

Some of the letters are beautiful.

- Especially the last ones.
- Why do you want to give them to me?

- They're yours.
- No, I wrote them for you.

- I another time.
- It doesn't matter, they were for you.

The problem is you don't want
your husband to find them.

- Right?
- He knows.

- I told him.
- Really?

Yes.

I just don't...

- I don't want to keep them.
- Then throw them away.

In a litter bin.

I'll go with you if you want,
we can do it together.

I'm glad I saw you.

Me too, Julia.

You've changed but...

...you're the same.

İf you leave them here
they'll stay here, you know?

I really mean it.

Take care, Txabi.

Hey, congratulations on the wedding.

Thanks.

I hope you'll be happy.

I'm not...
I'm not saying that it's him.

Well, I'm not accusing him.

It looks like a lad who studied
at the university.

But it's been some time
since I saw him.

All right. How about a name?

A surname?

Etxebarrieta.

Etxebarrieta.

Let's see if we get lucky.

Chamorro.

Etxebarrieta.

Come on.
Clear the doorway.

- What's going on? Anything wrong?
- Get out of the way.

José.

What's going on?

Nothing, Mum.

- Excuse me.
- I work for the town council.

Check documents, notes,
books that are underlined, numbers...

- What are you looking for?
- Your son.

Which one?

The one you imagine, madam.

Where is Francisco Javier?

He's not here. He left for Oxford.

- Well, well.
- You tell him, José Antonio.

José Antonio Etxebarrieta.

- Who's missing here?
- My little sister.

She's 13, she's at school.

- What's her name?
- Amaia.

I'm missing one: Francisco Javier.

Explain to him that he's studying
in Oxford.

They sure have you fooled, madam.

Isn't that so?

You got him into ETA?

No.

Don't tell me you don't know
what ETA is?

I've seen graffiti on the streets.

SQ?

Your brother's involved
in some ugly political stuff.

Maybe he wants to be like you,
because we arrested you in '59.

In '58.

For clandestine activities
within a separatist group.

No, they made up all of that.

That's why you went to France
afterwards.

I went there to study.

International Law.

You're not making fun of me, are you?

I just spoke with the mayor,
he's making calls, just so you know.

So you have connections?

Mum...

Clara isn't there.

Oh. Hello.

- When will she be back?
- Not today, that's for sure.

She went to see her son in America.

Thank you.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

I am the vine.

You are the branches.

If you remain in me and I in you,
you will bear much fruit.

Because apart from me
you can do nothing,

but he who does not remain in me

is like a branch
that is thrown away and withers.

It is gathered up, thrown into the fire,
and burned.

This is the word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

- When will you need the place?
- As soon as possible.

The house in Getaria...
How many of you are there?

About... ten of us.

I'll have a word with the Jesuits.

There was no need to come here,
you could have just let me know.

I didn't come just for that.

I'd like to hear your opinion as well.

My opinion about what?

About what we're going to discuss
at the meeting.

An...

An attack.

What kind of attack?

The kind that can kill, Father.

- What's the question?
- Can't you imagine what it is?

You have doubts.

Some colleagues are questioning it.

- And you?
- I'm a Marxist, Father.

That's like a religion.

It's also based on faith.

There's one colleague in particular.

I find it hard to believe
that after three years

he's in exactly the same place
we were before.

And somehow...

...at times,
he conveys his doubts to me.

Look, Txabi...

My mother, who was a staunch Catholic,

never had a priest hear her confession,
not even me.

Do you know why?

Whatever may have happened to her,

she thought it was a matter
between God and herself.

With no intermediaries.

And that's how she found peace.

And if she was at peace,
who would dare deny that?

If you look inside yourself and feel
you have to do something,

sacrifice yourself for your people
and you can live with that,

who can deny you that?

The only thing that you have to do
is make sure you look properly,

deep inside,
because if there is confusion,

if there is doubt,
you didn't go deep enough.

Because deep down there's only truth.

And that truth

doesn't need
any seal of approval,

because it's the most legitimate of all.

So now you're reading?

Bloody hell!
This Rimbaud guy...

...wrote all of his works

before he turned 20.

And he fell in love with a man who left
his wife and daughter to go with him.

Why are you reading that?

"Deserve death with all your appetites,

your selfishness,
and all the capital sins."

I don't want that here.

Or at least put it where your daughter
won't see it.

"Is that true?".

Hello?

Commander, what can I do for you?

Of course.

Very important, I know.

Please let him know I'm very grateful
and proud of the work done.

Of course.
Of course.

- Everyone there?
- Yes.

The door upstairs.

- 25th October.
- Are you kidding!

- Almost five months to go.
- We can do it now.

Tomorrow if we want.

- We go in, bang, bang. Why the wait?
- Txabi...

We spend our whole life waiting.

That date is symbolic.

On 25th October over a century ago,

Spain passed the law that stripped us
of everything we are as Basques.

People haven't forgotten,

they'll understand what it means.

We'll make them believe
that we're scared.

We'll carry out small-scale stuff
from time to time.

Right, make them think
we're only capable of that.

Each of you choose
one of the four proposed targets,

then we'll count them.
No invalid ballots or blank ballots.

Understood?

- Morning.
- Morning, Melitén.

If anyone wants to be left out
of this decision,

and I really mean it,
without any pressure,

it's best they leave now.

TXiki?

What?

All right.
So let's begin.

Manuel Valencia Remon,

civil governor of Guipuzcoa,
one vote.

Guillermo Candon,
civil governor of Vizcaya,

one vote.

José Maria Junqueras,

chief of the secret police of Vizcaya,

three votes.

Meliton Manzanas,

chief of the secret police of Guipuzcoa,

four votes.