Original subtitles

UNITA Base Camp, Cuanza Norte, Angola

Lenora.

Lenora, they're coming.

Where's DeGraaf?

Good question.

Get the fuck out, I already asked you nicely.

ALEX: This company makes everything.

Nasal spray. Pain meds. Everything.

Excuse me!

Can I help you?

(Increasingly eerie music)

(Door opens and closes)

Potsdam Hospital, East Germany

What are you suggesting?

That we find out more about Beroxalin before we continue the study.

We've been set a task, Dr. Fischer.

Frau Netz!

Tim. Katie.

Frau Netz. Wow.

You know each other?

How do you know each other?

After your father was...

General Jackson helped me find a new job.

See you Monday.

(Freight cars rolling past)

-Oh, no! -Ha, ha!

ALEX: How many people live in Berlin?

(English) So they always show you the money first, got that?

You get the cash upfront.

(Clattering percussive music)

Precedence over progress?

Over Socialism?

(Oppressive silence)

Think about it, hm?

I only have to check the delivery.

(Clatter of tailgate)

(Voice over walkie-talkie)

Major Kalumba is waiting for you.

(Ominous drones)

Clearly.

Ricardo.

(Panting)

Now the switch.

Flip it like I showed you.

(A ping followed by electronic beeping)

(A stopwatch being set)

(Portuguese) Hey, this way.

There are more of them over there!

Go!

Over there! Over there!

(The rattle of keys)

What is this place?

My bunker.

My little East German cave.

Supplies for a whole month!

And not that much smaller than my cabin in Brandenburg.

In which case I'd better...

(A motoric rattle, then a siren)

(She cries out)

(A groaning)

Finish her off!

(Gentle keyboard music)

Roberto.

(Sudden gunfire)

(Keyboard grows more intense)

(Tense, high-pitched music)

(Crescendo and dying fall)

See that little switch there, Roberto?

Can you defuse it?

No.

Okay.

(The beeping grows still faster)

(Fluttering paper)

(Clacking electronic beat)

(The giddy sound of falling)

(A dying echo)

(A new-wave synth sets in)

(Synth goes from intro to riff, builds. Power pop resounds)

(A blow landing)

(All sound fades)

(New wave tune resounds in the distance)

(Beeping and panting)

eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.

Turn it off.

(Still-excited inhalation)

(A clatter)

Saint Martin, always ready to share.

(She laughs)

Take it or I'll just split it with Roberto.

Put it away.

Your mother must have done something right.

If you want to get to know Max, then just ask her.

-He's her son. -But he's our grandson.

I have to go now.

(80s pop ballad sets in, Howard Jones' "No One is to Blame")

(Tense, ominous music)