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THESE CHARACTERS
AND SITUATIONS ARE FICTIONAL.

ANY RESEMBLANCE
TO REAL LIFE IS ACCIDENTAL.

THE BUREAU

That's no good.

Make it more powerful.

I can.

Change the direction.

It has to hit the chest.
As it is, he'll survive.

Disfigured but alive.

That's it.

Let's do the command unit.

CYPRUS

- Hi, Marina.
- Is something up?

- Are you alone?
- Yes.

Is Marie-Jeanne OK?

There's a change of plan.
I'll be briefing you instead of her.

OK.

- Now?
- Yes, now.

I need precise answers
to a few questions.

In Tehran,
during the approach phase,

did you see Americans
hanging around Shapur Zamani?

No.

There are no Americans in Tehran.

Take your time.
Think it over.

No, I'm sure.

I would have mentioned it.

In Paris, when Guillaume
was instructing you behind my back,

did you see any Americans?

What Americans?

People covering up the fact
they were American.

When Zamani and his girlfriend
came to Paris,

no Americans either?

No. Why?

Because Zamani works for the CIA.

That's impossible.

We knew they were interested in him.

That's why we stepped up
our efforts on him.

We didn't think they'd move so fast.

If I had noticed anything,
I would have told you immediately.

Let's take it from the beginning.

I need to know everything, in detail.

I need to know if you missed something.

Not because you're not good,
but because these things happen.

We have the whole day.
Let's calmly review everything.

- What time is your flight?
- In two hours. I'll be off.

- Is my mission over?
- Not yet.

What do I do now?

When you return to Tehran,
start to pull away from Zamani.

You know how.
Slowly and silently.

He mustn't link your distance
to his CIA activity.

OK.

You'll receive new instructions.

Can I leave here earlier?

No, you took a five-day holiday.
Stick to it.

Polo shirts look nice on you.

You have nothing
to feel bad about.

Just behave normally.

Enjoy Turkish delight,
as they say.

Sure, I'm paranoid.

And you think I'm stupid too.

AI-Qaeda doesn't exist anymore]!

The little scattered bases

aren't the solution anymore.

The caliphate is the Prophet's will.

- We kill miscreants every day.
- That will do. We've seen enough.

The journalist is German.
His name is Andreas Schnabel.

I know of him.

He and his cameraman
have connections in the region.

We could use him to get to Chevalier.

He's the only one
that ISIS has accepted.

He'll succeed where we have failed?

He's a journalist.

ISIS takes information warfare
very seriously.

Andreas Schnabel
relays their propaganda.

His shocking TV reports
serve ISIS's interests

and Chevalier knows it.

Chevalier films himself.
He's a narcissistic criminal.

He'll accept an interview with Schnabel.

Will it take long?

We've already started.
It may go fast.

- What are the risks for Schnabel?
- What risks can we take?

I don't have much esteem for him,

but a 20% risk factor is the limit.

- 20%.
- 20% maximum.

How was the vacation?

Have some Turkish delight.
A gift from Turkish Airlines.

It helps to sweeten the pill.

That bad?

Nothing.

We reviewed everything.

The CIA recruited Zamani
without us noticing?

Ph�nom�ne spent time with him.
She couldn't have missed this.

I have absolute faith in her.

And Marie-Jeanne and Malotru
didn't see it either.

Do we know how long
he's worked for the CIA?

No.

Is that why he came to Paris?

Is it possible...

That they asked Shapur Zamani
to recruit Ph�nom�ne?

If you had Majid Zamani's son,

would you care
about a French seismologist?

She would have figured it out.
She's not stupid.

Don't eat too many.
You'll feel sick.

You got a job offer on Linkedln.

From a journalism school in Luxembourg.

Well, not you. Chlo� Depoid.

- Where did you get that name?
- An old phonebook.

It's been an hour
since I left a message.

If a girl's ignoring me,
I wait 24 hours and then give up.

It's him.

- Chlo� Depoid?
- Yes.

Hello, this is Andreas Schnabel.

Hello, Mr Schnabel.
Thanks for returning my call.

Of course.
What can I do for you?

I'm a journalist with I-Media.
I work with Guillaume Hoffner.

I have a proposal for you.

Can we meet?

What kind of proposal?

- I have an exclusive scoop for you.
- I need to know more.

Not over the phone.

A man like yourself
attracts too much attention.

It's big and it's urgent.
We need to meet quickly in Paris.

Give me a date. I'll book tickets
and a room at the Hilton.

Friday?

My assistant will contact you
for details.

See you on Friday, then.

See you Friday.

I have an IF' on a German server.
He's checking your profile.

Bravo.

You can make yourself a coffee.

No, thanks.

Do you want one?
I can get it for you.

I'm sorry.

I should have done
a better job of breaking up.

It wasn't worth the bother.

I've always behaved like an arse
with women.

Are we recalling Ph�nom�ne?

Why would we do that?

Because her Iranian friend
works for the CIA.

- So?
- It's dangerous.

It would be the same
if Shapur worked for us.

It's not the same.
We'd be in control.

- Ph�nom�ne is careful.
- Zamani isn't.

As I've said all along, he's not reliable.
He's not cautious.

If his cover is blown, it will affect
his entourage, including Ph�nom�ne.

Zamani has become her Achilles' heel.

TEHRAN, IRAN

INCOMING CALL

Hi.

Can I play with you?

Sure.

Are you all right?

What's up?

- What happened?
- Nothing.

- What's wrong with Prune?
- Boyfriend trouble with Tristan.

What sort of trouble?

Ask her. She mouthed off to me
so I sent her to you.

What did she say to you?

She's impossible right now.
Good luck.

What did she say?

That you're rude to her.

I'm rude to her?

What's up with Tristan?

It's a mess.

It's not working anymore?

No.

Is he pulling away?

No, I am.

I don't know why I'm like this.

At your age
it's normal for things to end.

- It's better, in fact.
- I don't want it to end.

Well, then?

We can't go on like this.

We fight all the time.

We don't get along anymore.

So you just wanted me
to get you dinner.

Not at all.
ls there enough for all of us?

Hi.

She's crying.

Have dinner with us.

Did you see Nadia El Mansour?

I've just come from there.
She wants internet access.

Right.

Is she OK?

I think so.
She asked me to buy books.

Which ones?

Chronicles of a Middle-Eastern War
by Gilles Kepel.

The Kingdom
by Emmanuel Carr�re.

And 7, 000 Easy Everyday Recipes .

That was a joke.

You make jokes now, do you?

I'm practicing.

Is she depressed?

I'm not a shrink.

I'll set the table.
You go and get my daughter.

Go on.

Yes?

- I think dinner's ready.
- I'm not hungry.

Do you work with my father?

No.

What do you do?

I do favours.

When there's a crisis,
I get a call.

Is this a crisis?

No.

How old are you?

I'm 20.

You poor thing.

At 20 you can't handle these things.

How old are you?

Old enough to handle it.

Look at me.

Do I look like a shy virgin to you?

No.

Do I look like a hopeless romantic?

No.

They call me the "Mule".

Presumably not because
I'm white as a dove.

Right.

When I was 20 I cried every day.

Every single day.

I fell in love twice.

Two arseholes.

And each time I cried.

Non-stop.

My mother hit me over the head
to toughen me up.

It made no difference.

I cried and cried,

and cried.

20 is a lousy age.

Let's go and eat.

Is the light flashing?

It is now.

Did you come all this way
to install the internet?

I wanted to see you.
And I brought some books.

Are you doing OK?

Yes, I'm OK.

Not too bored?

A little, but it's nice to be bored.

To not have to worry
about being woken up

or seeing Nadim turn up in my room.

How are you?

I'm fine.

Books like this are hardly conducive
to a good night's sleep.

I read an interview with the author.

Now that he's uncovered
these Mafia networks,

he leads a miserable existence.

He's lost everything:

his freedom, his friends.

A normal life.

Everything-

He lives in barracks,
in windowless rooms.

But the worst is that every day,

he wonders if it was worth it.

That's not what he wonders.

He says he wouldn't do it again,
given the choice.

I have something to show you.
That's why I came.

This is your home?

Yes.

"Guillaume."

That name doesn't suit you.

Paul's my middle name.
You can still use that.

No, now you're Guillaume.

13 November 1970.
You didn't lie about your date of birth.

I'm honest.
I could have knocked off a few years.

Real identity is only shared with a wife.

Yes.

But I'm not your wife.

No.

This is where we might have lived,
in another life?

A normal one?

No, it's a company apartment.

Something temporary that's lasted.

Why are you doing this?

Why tell me who you are?

I wanted to be honest,
before we part company.

I don't think it matters anymore.

What matters is your new life.

I've worked hard to make it possible.

We won't see each other again.

But I won't forget you
and I doubt you'll forget me.

Now, when we think of each other,

it will be painful.

But it will be real.

So now we're even.

- Can you take me back?
- Of course.

How long can I stay in the house?

As long as you want.
We'll let you know when we need it.

Thanks.

Have you ever heard
of Nadim El Bachir?

No.

He's the senior
Syrian intelligence officer

that Nadia admitted everything to
when we tried to recruit her.

- He sent her back to Syria.
- Oh, yes.

He's in one of our safe houses.

He defected
and he's telling us everything

on the situation in Damascus,

on deserters
from the Syrian secret service,

on the manipulation of the opposition
and armed groups.

He's an incredible gold mine
of information.

That's wonderful.

Who do we owe all this to?

Guillaume Debailly.

- How is that possible?
- He trapped Nadim.

It will become a case study
in our training programme.

How did he contact him?

Through Nadia El Mansour.

Have they seen each other?

She's in our safe house in Picardy.

Why?

She asked C�line
for permission to see Malotru,

to ask him for protection.

Against whom?

Nadim El Bachir.

Why are you telling me this?

I'm going to ask Nadim El Bachir
what he knows about Malotru.

You want me
to go and see Nadia El Mansour?

To find out exactly where the con is.

- Did you have a good journey?
- Yes, thanks.

Right.

We know the name of the French jihadist
who executes hostages.

What is this nonsense?

This is a serious offer.

How did you get his identity?

We have it, that's all.
I can't say how we got it.

Personally, I don't even know.

Why don't you interview him yourselves?

We're not able to get to him.

You're the only one
who can get near

and return alive with images.

If we send even our best journalist,
he won't last two seconds.

Somehow you've succeeded
where everyone else has failed.

Why would I accept?

I don't know that you will.

I'm here to try to convince you.

All eyes are on this guy.

We think someone should
meet him and talk to him.

You're the only one who can.

I told Gaddafi it was great,

that I hadn't read
such magnificent poetry since Aragon.

There's a professional code of ethics
at times like that.

At least with ISIS, there's no chance
I'll be asked to read poems.

And you're not at all scared of them?

I've always felt sympathy

with those everyone else despises.

It took me six months
to approach my ISIS contacts.

Six months of discussions,

negotiations,

and seduction.

It's hard work for me,
but for them too.

Who'd spend six months negotiating
with someone they planned to kill?

And I was right.

We'll find the right format
to do justice to the interview.

A special programme.

You'd control the contents
and the presentation.

We could also work on a partnership
with a print media.

A weekly magazine,
such as "L'Obs" or "Le Point".

I want the rights to my images.

You know that's impossible.

Then I want them to revert to me
after three months.

Five months,
and I have to discuss it.

Five months,
but with the option to sell them.

OK.

All intermediaries and my local guys
need to be paid off.

There's my salary
and my cameraman's.

I don't go anywhere without him.

BENGHAZI, LIBYA

Make sure you have a signal.

Always record the sound

on two tracks.

Like this.

OK.

You can adjust it
during the interview.

When it's in the red,

lower the sound.

OK.

Clip the command unit

to his trousers.

What if he's wearing a tunic?

Put it in his pocket,
under the tunic.

OK.

Then, place the clip-on microphone

as close to the face as possible.

If it's windy,

use a wind shield.

OK.

Ask him to do a voice test.

Here.

You have to rehearse these moves.

You mustn't look like a novice.

Your turn.
I'll pretend to be Toufik.

Where will the explosives be?

We don't know yet.

Probably in the unit.

Or in the microphone.
We're looking for the right place.

You'll find it, God willing.

TEHRAN, IRAN

Did I scare you?

No.

Look!

New responsibilities, new car.

It's great.

- Are you mad at me?
- No.

Why?

I call, you don't pick up.

I just got back.

You used to call right away.

You have no time for me anymore.

- Is that why you're here?
- Yes.

No.

Actually, I'm going to a meeting
at the strategic research centre.

It's on the way.

I'm not the one with no time.

You are.

Lots of work, fancy cars.

That's true.

Let's hang out soon.

Agreed.

- You promise?
- Yes.

- Do you swear?
- Yes.

Where?

We'll see.

We replace the aluminium alloys
with titanium.

It has a good
weight to resistance ratio

but it's much more expensive.

I'll call Mousavi,
to speed things up.

This is the centrifuge
replacement schedule.

The first site to change to IR2...

will be the Natanz site.

Let's take a break.

I'm sure everyone could use one.

- Do you have a cigarette?
- Yes.

Mobile check.

What's happening?

The GPS picked up
a functioning mobile phone.

It's forbidden on this floor.

Who forgot to turn off his phone?

It's me.

Sorry.

We'll have to check.

Check what?

The phones.

Give me your phone.

You've heard of respecting privacy?

Shapur.

That's enough!

Shapur, give him your phone
so we can move on.

What is this?

What does "A4" mean?

It's a video game thing.

Your contact here.

Who is Agus?

He's a friend.

We play video games.

ISTANBUL, TURKEY

I thought I heard a car.

Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you.

Olivia Ansalem.

I work for the DGSE.

I'm here for logistical issues.
Nothing to worry about.

Forgive me.

My imagination runs wild
out here in the country.

Excuse me. It's nine o'clock.
I'm going to make dinner.

Oh, yes.

Sorry, I'll make room.

Would you like some wine?

You know,
Paul Lefebvre is a good friend.

Really?

He told me a lot about you.

That doesn't seem to surprise you.

Not really, no.

Why not?

If I'd had a friend these past few years,

I would surely have talked to her
about Paul Lefebvre.

Saying he's a friend
is a slight exaggeration.

But he's more than a colleague.

We have the utmost respect
for each other.

We tell each other things.
We confide in each other.

You know...

in this job it's hard
to maintain close relationships.

You can't tell people things.

But you can explain.
You can say,

"I can't tell you about this,"
and they understand.

I know it was complicated
between you and Paul.

If you want to interrogate me,
just do it.

It will be quicker
and less unpleasant.

No, not at all.

I know many people like you.

I know your tricks.

OK.

I have only one question.

Yes?

Paul Lefebvre isn't his real name.

I figured as much.

Did he ever tell you?

His real name.

No, he never did.

I haven't the slightest idea
who he really is.

The Mule says
this is the best cure for heartache.

- Booze?
- A Cosmopolitan.

I think it's ready.
Do you want one?

You work with cool people.

You mean the Mule?

Did Mum tell you
I worked with dreary people?

I just pictured you all in suits.

All boring.

Like me?

Is Mule her code name?

- No, it's a nickname.
- Do you have one?

A nickname?

Behind my back maybe.

But I have a code name.

Paul Lefebvre?

No, that's a false identity
for my Syrian missions.

So what's your code name?

If you're hesitating,
that means you can tell me.

Malotru.

Malotru? Why?

All our code names

are insults
from Captain Haddock in Tintin.

- Are you kidding?
- I swear it's true.

There's Cyclone,
Moule-�-gaufres, Ph�nom�ne.

- That's crazy!
- But it's true.

You've never told me anything cool
about your work before.

- And you've never made me a cocktail.
- Another?

No, thanks.

Have you ever had heartache?

Tell me.

Pour me another one.

Will you tell me?

No.

Prune, that last evening
we spent together

meant a lot to me.

I think about it very often.

I relive each moment.

I'm going to take it with me.

I know that where I'm going,

it's something I'll want
to keep with me forever.

I'm sorry for everything
they'll tell you

and for what's about to happen.

And I am sorry we can't share
more evenings like that one.

I want you to know
that you're not under suspicion.

Only Shapur is.

I'm sure we'll find an explanation.

Shapur isn't a bad boy.
He's just a little thick.

To accuse him of espionage
is giving him too much credit.

The text message is quite clear.

He was probably showing off
to a friend.

That's enough.

Stop taking me for a fool.

I have a son too.

His messages are
about the jeans he plans to buy,

football and scooters,

not about Natanz's A4 unit!

Out of respect for you

I could try to make things
easier for Shapur.

What does he risk?

Hopefully we can spare him
death by hanging.

I'll cooperate in any way I can.

Very well.

How long has he worked for you?

For five years.

He went straight
from intern to project manager.

How long has he been allowed
in the conference room?

One month.

Are there any new people
in his entourage?

His girlfriend left him.

I'm not talking about
people who left him,

but those who have got closer.

People who seem
to hang around him innocently.

New friends, for example.

- What's wrong, Reza?
- Put on your hijab.

- Everything OK?
- No.

It's not OK.

- You're under arrest.
- What are you doing?

For sharing intelligence with the enemy.

What? I want to speak to my embassy.

Shut up, bitch.