Original subtitles

Come on.

Really? So why French?

-Ah! Yes! -You are still with us, Wilkinson.

Well, I couldn't leave without giving him a whipping first.

-Yes! -Aw...

You were saying?

-Oh, dear. -Yeah. The tension's still there.

I don't want to lose him.

-And Constante? It's his sister? -Yeah. No leads.

This was a good idea to have us for a drink.

-It's a good team. -[Luke] Come on!

I don't want it to break up.

Seems like they stay together despite and sometimes because of adversity.

Can you turn this up, please?

...shortly after Legia's victory this afternoon,

when the explosion happened.

The source of the blast is at this stage unclear,

but it's believed to have originated from the home changing room.

This is what we have from moments before.

Fredi, how difficult has it been

to keep your mind on the football with all the abuse you've received?

It's been tough. I'm not gonna lie.

We just keep playing our game

and hope people will see beyond the colour of our skin.

Well, your all-action display in midfield won't have hurt.

Congratulations, you've been named Man of the Match.

Thank you, but I cannot accept this. It's got to go to my teammate.

This is the real star here.

One more question, please. One more question.

Do you feel Legia has turned a corner with this recent victory?

Yeah. Yeah, I do. Things are gonna be different now.

-We're going up. -Well, thank you, and good luck.

Well, Fredi and the team have played like absolute champions today, and I--

The bomb went off in their locker room. The manager and one player dead.

Six players injured, one very seriously.

Kalifa Konare lost his leg above the knee.

The local police are claiming international terrorism,

which is where we fit in.

-Has anyone claimed it? -No.

The police could be trying to deflect attention from the far-right element.

Black players are abused in grounds all over Europe.

So it might be racially motivated.

Legia Lubin was recently bought by a Malaysian businessman named Victor Arshad.

Foreign ownership of football clubs in Poland is very unusual,

and the fan base isn't exactly crazy about the idea.

Demonstrations. Boycotts.

The Ultras have also been known to send death threats

to both Kalifa Konare and Fredi Diagho, their recent signings from Mali.

-What are Ultras? -Hooligan fans.

Most of them are far-right activists.

They look like a very nice group of people.

These players from Mali are seen as the symbol of Arshad's ownership.

What do we know about the device?

Luke and I are headed down to talk to forensics.

Marco and Arabela, head to the hospital. Let's figure this out.

The only question on everybody's lips is "why?"

We're still waiting on frag and chemical residue analysis,

but right now, they think it was a small pipe bomb.

That makes sense. Probably made using fertilizer-based explosive.

It's crude, but effective at this range. Any idea what the trigger was?

They say it was a cell phone.

Pipe bomb like this could be triggered from anywhere.

-What's the security like here? -Well, it was recently upgraded

because of threats towards the Malian players and the owner.

Is there any entry logs, any security footage?

It's on its way.

So we have an explosive that anyone with access to the Internet can make,

and it can be triggered from anywhere. Loving those odds.

A pipe bomb is usually packed with ball bearings, nuts, and bolts.

This one had glass in it. Is that weird?

Well, glass doesn't show up very well on x-rays,

-so that makes surgery very hard. -That's horrible.

So if this attack was racially motivated, isn't a pipe bomb a little bit--

-Indiscriminate? -Right.

Two white men dead as well.

But the bomb was placed in Kalifa Konare's locker.

Maybe they misjudged the size of the explosion.

Or that he would survive.

Mr. Diagho? I'm Inspector Marco Constante with the International Criminal Court.

-Inspector Arabela Seeger. -No more police.

Mr. Diagho, we just want to ask you a couple of questions

regarding yesterday's events.

The National Police in Mali are notoriously corrupt.

He has no reason to trust us.

You don't have to say anything...

but if you want to, I'll be right here.

It should have been me.

What did they do? These animals.

He will be looked after.

Whatever he needs, and his family.

You must be Mr. Arshad?

Inspectors Seeger and Constante from the ICC.

We would just like to ask a couple of questions.

-What is mine is at your disposal. -Thanks.

Go home. Get some rest. I'll stay with Kalifa.

Yes, Arshad.

Maybe we should step outside.

It is my fault for bringing them to this country.

I sold them a dream of a civilised society,

but these savages will never accept us because we are a different colour.

You think this was a racially motivated attack?

What else?

I brought my money to Poland to help Legia to get into Europe,

the Champions League. Polish people, I love.

They welcome me. They welcome my family.

But these... Ultras, I do not even call them supporters.

They're like a disease.

What a nerve.

Do you know this man?

Miroslaw Cena.

The manager you fired shortly after you bought the club,

after 15 years of service.

I had no choice.

He is the ringleader of these Ultras.

Please, you find who did this and bring them to justice.

Oh, we intend to.

It's always cold here. Where are you from?

My father is from Nigeria, but I grew up in Holland, so I'm used to it.

Could you go back to Mali?

No, I could not.

When my village heard I was going to be a footballer in Europe,

it was the proudest day in my father's life.

To return as a failure would bring disgrace to my family.

You could change clubs. Maybe Spain or Italy?

Maybe one day.

I wait for Arshad to tell me where I go next.

-Arshad doesn't own you. -Yes.

My registration belongs to him.

It was not Legia who bought me from AS Bamako,

it was Arshad himself who paid for the transfer fee.

One man cannot own another.

European clubs do not come to Mali to look for players.

Arshad gave me my dream.

Without him, I would have nothing.

Turn in here.

Miroslaw Cena?

I'm Carine Strand. This is Inspector Constante.

Any budding Lewandowskis?

Bonieks. That's who we are really looking for.

I've got coffee in my office. Please.

-Is this real? -Boniek's shirt.

-I played with him, you know? -You played with Zibì Boniek?

-Yeah, briefly, at Widzew Łódź. -You should've seen this guy.

-He was... he was the fastest ever.

At Juventus, they used to call him "Bello di notte."

And today, 100 million, just for his bad foot.

How come you're no longer manager of Legia?

How come?

I left because of a... mm...

let's just say because of a difference of opinion.

And was this difference of opinion with Victor Arshad?

To do with your connection to the right-wing followers of the club?

-Is that what he told you? -Well, he didn't have to.

They're still chanting your name at games.

And what can I do about that?

They're lunatics,

but they love me because they think I am like them,

a Lubin boy, a small-town boy who became somebody.

So you're denying that your conflict with Arshad

had anything to do with the players from Mali.

I don't deny shit.

So you did have a problem with Konare and Diagho.

Damn right I had a problem.

Because they were immigrants? Because they were black?

Come on. Because fucking Arshad told me

that I must select them every game, no matter what.

They both had to play?

Even if their form was bad, if other players were better?

Right. So I had to resign.

I don't care if it's Diagho, Boniek, or Lionel Messi.

The manager picks the team, period.

Otherwise, how do you look your players in the eyes?

Ah... this is modern football. Too much money.

Too many suits thinking they know better than people who live for this game.

For Arshad, Legia is just a business deal.

But for me, that club was my life.

I would rather... blow myself up.

Why would Arshad play the Malians in every game?

If he puts them on display, would he get more money when he sold them off?

As club owner, he'd profit from the sale of any of his players.

Ellie. I need you to look into Victor Arshad,

personal, business, whatever you can find.

Sit.

Djablani from the baobab tree.

My mother sends it for strength.

Thank you.

I must check on Konare.

Fredi, the bomb was found in Konare's locker.

Can you explain that?

I understand that you're frightened,

but if you know anything which could help,

anything which is relevant, you have to tell me.

Fredi...

-Get down!

Oh!

[speaking in a foreign language]

Ahh!

Hang on!

Luke! I need your help!

Luke! Get here now!

Police! Stop!

-Ah! -Police!

Hey! Stay down. Down!

-You okay? -Yeah.

-Oi. What about the others? -He'll do.

He was calling the shots.

-Are you hurt? -No.

They're gone. It's okay.

Please, can you take me to the hospital?

-Konare is not so good. -Of course.

Old school.

-What is? -Powder residue.

Gunpowder.

What kind of glass is this?

The same black glass surgeons pulled out of the victims.

That's the bomb?

Yeah, someone must've swapped the real bottle for this one during the game.

Where's the Man-of-the-Match champagne usually stored?

In their broadcasting truck, in the executive car park.

Well, I've got CCTV here.

I've isolated and IDed everyone who passed through the executive entrance.

They're mostly execs, businessmen, no one of any interest, except Eddie Belka.

He has a string of convictions for stalking footballers,

including breaking an entrance into a footballer's house.

He has a Twitter ban

and is excluded from numerous football clubs, including Legia.

So he shouldn't even have been at the game.

He probably got around the ban by paying ticket touts

-through the nose for VIP seats. -Forward Carine his address.

Yeah.

Do you think I should wear black to the funeral?

Or maybe, um, a suit in Legia colours?

-I think it's gonna be family only. -They want me there.

Mr. Belka, did you send a tweet to the footballer Fredi Diagho?

"You make me sick. I hope you die in a fucking car crash."

-I... I didn't mean it like that. -But those are your words.

Football... football is pure emotion, right?

But it can spill over into the unhealthy,

like when you were banned from the English grounds

-for attacking that linesman. -Oh! Come on, lady!

It was, like, ten yards offside at least.

And I was angry before... before the diagnosis, before the meds.

Um, I'm good now. I... I'm good right now. I'm fine.

Everything is, like...

That day Diagho cost us derby against our local rival.

He was sent off after seven minutes for punch.

That's why we lost. We lose four-nil.

That's the problem with these foreign players, huh?

I mean, they just don't know what it means.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're fucking right.

Huh?

The last time, I couldn't leave my house, like,

for weeks after that defeat. Do they hurt like this?

You want to show them how it feels sometimes? Huh? You know?

Like, h-- how you feel, what's the pain you're going through?

You mean, like, uh, hurt a Legia player?

Hey, if he's not giving everything for the cause.

Why not? I mean, fuck him. [laughs]

Are you high?

Not right now, no.

Once a man pulls on the shirt, he is my brother for life,

-and you don't fuck with family. -Do you mind if I--

-No, no, no, no, no, no! You can't. -Okay.

You can't touch anything, please.

Take it easy. All right? Look, putting it back.

-Okay. -There you go.

Can I take a photo?

Okay.

This guy's no more a killer than I am. We're wasting our time.

Maybe.

-What are you thinking? -Well, I'm not sure yet,

but I know Sebastian's gonna love these.

He tested negative for any explosive residue. This is his file.

It's a bit light for the leader of a gang of football hooligans.

-Speeding violations. -Does that strike you as odd?

You're a real tough guy.

A Nazi-sympathizing football hooligan

who's comfortable with attacking a player's home for the colour of his skin.

I just protect my country from immigrant scum.

And what a noble cause that is.

Mercedes S-Class. That's a nice set of wheels.

Now, I don't know very much about cars,

but how much would a vehicle like that set you back?

Ninety, 100,000 Euros. Is that right, Artur?

-It's not my car. -It's strange that you've got no record

of working for Berlian Leisure, and yet, there you are driving their Merc.

So I do a little driving work off the books.

Arrest me for tax evasion.

Such a beautiful language, isn't it?

The passenger, who is he?

-Client. -Named?

By the way, can I see your tattoos?

Tattoos are mandatory for the Legia Ultras, right?

Swastikas, Legia Lubin badges, nationalist symbols.

Yet, you're clean as a whistle. You fancy explaining that?

-It's a distraction. -So the attack on the caravan was a fake?

No, the attack was real enough,

but Slomski's no more a right-wing activist than I am.

He has no priors, no battle scars, not even a stadium ban.

Look at this photo of him here.

So not only a distraction, a misdirection designed to give us

a credible alternative to the real bomber.

Yeah, but who's doing the misdirecting?

-Who's that? -He said a client.

Did you get me anything on Victor Arshad?

As much as I could. He doesn't leave a trail.

-Arabela, where are you? -I'm at the hospital.

Konare's in a very bad way.

-Did you get anything out of Diagho? -I get the feeling he's hiding something.

-He's just too scared to tell me. -What does your instinct say?

It's something about Arshad.

He talks about him like he's this great saviour.

-I'm just not buying it. -Okay. We're on the same page.

-We need something concrete. -Understood.

Okay, let's focus on Victor Arshad.

I'm so sorry. We lost him.

The other guy that was here, where is he?

-He left. -Thank you.

Someone in your team has been making enquiries about Victor Arshad.

-Yes. -Don't.

Her Majesty's government is using Arshad as a broker

for a multi-billion-dollar Anglo-Malaysian trade deal.

They can't have him sullied by a criminal investigation.

Well, I won't have my case blocked by any government.

-Oh, I'm not blocking anything. -Doesn't sounds like that to me.

On the contrary. If you could find something incontrovertible,

there would be gratitude.

Just don't make any noise while you're doing it.

Otherwise, Arshad will hear it.

-The British government wants him too. -I didn't say that.

Well, he's obviously a big fish and hard to catch,

or this trade deal wouldn't exist.

You want us to do the dirty work, but we still don't know if he's our guy.

-Give us something. -Berlian Casino.

We traced one of Arshad's holding companies in the Cayman Islands

to a controlling interest in the Berlian Casino chain.

-There's one in Lubin. -Which is believed to be his European hub.

But all his business is done on encrypted lines from a room in the casino.

-Encrypted how? -You'd have to get inside to find out.

But as I say, go after Arshad.

Go after Arshad carefully, and do not make any noise.

Otherwise, we will never see him again,

and then it won't be gratitude coming your way.

This is Artur Slomski's signature,

and this is Artur Slomski's speeding violations.

-Not Slomski. -Nope.

Most of the fines were paid by a Dutch citizen by the name of Joep Mees,

and guess where he was two hours before the bomb went off?

-The executive area at Lubin Stadium. -Any motive for Mees?

No causes. No activism. He's low level.

Anything to connect him with Arshad?

Arshad's a ghost. We've got nothing on him.

Yes, we do. Mees is security consultant for Berlian Casinos.

-Am I missing something? -Arshad is the owner

of the Berlian Casino group.

Amongst other things, according to the British government.

Could Arshad have employed them both?

Mees to place the bomb and Slomski to create the diversion?

Without motive, it's purely circumstantial.

But why would Arshad kill his own players?

Sebastian.

Sebastian? Are you there?

I know exactly what Arshad's doing.

-Match fixing? -Arshad's been using Diagho and Konare

to influence events on the pitch,

and making millions through a gambling syndicate

stretching back to the Far East.

And you're confident that these syndicates

are placing bets on games that Arshad has rigged.

-Show him. -I thought you'd never ask.

Based on Belka's spreadsheets,

which are pretty much works of art, by the way...

I had a feeling you were gonna say that.

Legia Lubin aren't much going forward, but their defence is solid.

An average of .6 goals conceded per match.

Their ratio would be even more impressive if it weren't for these three matches.

Four-zero. Five-one.

Six-nil. Wow. Bad day at the office.

But what have these games got in common?

-Diagho and Konare? -Correct.

Fredi Diagho was sent off in all three heavy defeats.

-How come no one sees that as strange? -Spread over a two-year period,

he just looks like a player with a red mist problem.

Plenty of them around.

But playing back in Mali...

zero red cards in his entire career.

Does one player being sent off the pitch change the game that much?

Considering each time it happened within the first 20 minutes, it can.

But the result is not the only market.

You can bet on anything: goal-scorers, number of corners,

time of the first throw-in.

Or in this case, red cards before half-time, and... own-goals.

-Konare. -Two own-goals in one of these matches,

one in another. Own-goals are serious long odds,

money in the bank if you know they're coming.

Is there a way that we can establish definitively

that it is Arshad who is putting the fix in?

I would have to cross-reference these matches

with the relevant betting patterns.

Well?

-Konare died. -Shit.

And Diagho's disappeared.

I thought he might go to the stadium, but I came up blank.

I'm worried he might do something stupid.

-Luke? You need to see this. -Hang on a minute.

Yeah.

This is the Berlian Casino.

And what is that?

You were right about stupid.

Over one and a half million Euros

placed via betting exchanges on each of these matches.

And on the average Polish league game?

Fifty thousand... max.

So Arshad buys these guys, he controls their careers,

and then they have to do whatever he wants during the game.

-Do we now have enough proof? -No.

We're talking thousands of small bets

placed all at the same time, through proxies.

-And none of this ties into the bomb? -We need more.

Keep digging.

-Let me go. -What are you doing here, Fredi?

What are you doing here?

Are you done?

I thought you didn't know anything.

I'm sorry about your friend,

but you are about to ruin our investigation, and your life.

-What life? -Fredi!

-You know Mees?

Is he the one fixing the matches?

Okay. You and me need to talk.

Arshad told us the idea first...

that we had to do what he said on the pitch, play against our teammates.

-And you said? -No, of course.

Football is in my soul.

I did not train my entire life to betray the game like this.

But eventually, you did betray it.

What did he do to persuade you?

Arshad? Nothing.

Mees? He threatened us,

our families, teammates.

If we refuse, he will punish us.

Me and Kalifa, we say "Okay."

Legia is in the middle of the table.

One game is not going to change anything up or down.

But after the one game, Mees threatens to report us to UEFA.

Life ban.

Then we had to keep doing it.

Do you believe Mees is behind the bomb?

-Of course. -What makes you so certain?

This was one of the games.

Kalifa was to get red card. I was to give penalty away.

Why didn't you?

I looked at Kalifa in training.

He could be something... special, you know?

Me? I'm okay. I get up and down.

But him... this talent is a gift,

and we were throwing it back in God's face.

I say to him, "This is the end. Today, we play with honour."

We told Arshad and Mees we wouldn't do it anymore.

-When was this? -Two days ago.

-Arshad went crazy. -Did he threaten you?

-Mees did. -But you played to win anyway.

I didn't believe they would go through with it.

And now my teammates are dead... because of me.

Presumably they meant for you to die as well.

I'm only alive because a boy asked for my signature.

After all Arshad's efforts to bring you over from Mali

and leveraging you into doing what he wants,

why would he murder his prize assets?

-As a warning to the others. -What others?

Arshad owns many players at other clubs,

all across Europe, blackmails them too.

If any were thinking of rebelling against him, now they know what happens.

What makes you so certain there are others?

-Maybe he just wanted you to believe that. -Arshad showed me.

-In Mees's office. -At the Berlian Casino?

The little room with the big computers.

They talk about the fixing only in Mees's office.

We watch another game, Serbian league.

Arshad says watch, in five minutes there will be penalty.

Five minutes? Penalty.

They are putting bets on in front of us, making so much money.

Fredi, we want to bring a stop to all of this

and put Arshad and Mees in prison for a long time.

We need your help.

Do you think there'll ever be a German Bond?

Berger. Sebastian Berger.

That is the high-roller room. Invitation only,

and the only way into the secure room Arshad uses for communications.

We tapped into their system,

but that room has its own security, which we can't crack.

Mees is the only person we've seen in or out,

so to get the access code, we need to give him a reason to enter that room.

Well, would you look what the cat dragged in.

The casino has 2,000 CCTV cameras and some motion sensors.

Any nervousness will be seen as card counting or collusion,

-and you will be ejected. -And watch your back.

Arshad didn't hesitate to blow up a room full of athletes.

-He'll do anything to protect his empire. -Excuse me for a minute.

If Fredi's intelligence leads us to a bust, can we do anything?

-He's facing a life ban. -I'm sorry. I truly don't know.

Yes?

I shouldn't be the one doing this. I can't handle it.

You're the only one of us with the expertise to manage those encrypted lines.

I can talk Luke through it. Seriously, it's not that hard.

-No. -It's not fair. You know me.

I am a gambling man too, Berger.

I am betting on you. I believe you can.

No, you don't.

I can't go back to being the gambling addict I was.

You are not going to go back, Berger.

You've finally gone beyond your old, self-centred life,

and your commitment to this new life gives you a strength to do whatever you want.

Thanks.

Thank you, sir.

And now the VIP room.

Thank you, sir.

That's it, the door to Mees's office.

All we need now is the code.

Shit!

We need a clean view of that keypad.

Move!

Sebastian's got to get rid of this bloke.

Come on.

Take this guy out.

-Fold. -What?

What is he waiting for?

Raise.

Oh, that's a poker face.

Boom. Who knew?

Carine, you're up.

I need to speak with your head of security, Joep Mees.

This is Inspector Carine Strand.

What it's about is a police matter. Put me through to him.

Carry on.

On his way.

What is it?

Did we get that?

Look.

Sebastian's camera is also heat-sensitive.

It's just a matter of watching the fade pattern.

-Snazzy.

Mr. Mees, I did you the courtesy of not embarrassing you

by flashing my badge in front of your customers.

Meet me outside the casino now. I'm not asking.

-Uh... -VIP card.

-VIP card? -Yes.

-Yeah, sure. -Marco plays a convincing drunk.

VIP card... Frickin' cards.

You know what? I don't need a VIP card. No, I need a VIP card? Yeah, okay.

And that's how you run interference.

-Yeah. Oh!

Okay. Okay. No VIP card.

-Just come on, guys. -Take him out of here.

Wait, guys, come on. Hey.

1-4-0-4-1-9-9-1.

Joep Mees. What can I do for you?

The European Gaming Commission has reason to believe

that your casino is employing staff known to have a criminal record.

We run scrupulous background checks on all our employees.

Not scrupulous enough.

Are you aware that two of your croupiers are working under assumed names?

Scheisse!

This could lead to a termination of your casino licence.

-I'm sure there's been some mistake. -I am equally certain there has not been.

If this is not rectified, your casino will face substantial fines, possibly closure.

Well, let me look into it, and I'll get back to you.

He's still at it. Keep Mees there.

Mr. Mees? Did I tell you this conversation was over?

Do you have the card?

-Do I have a card? -Yeah, to give him.

-Your... your card? -Yes.

-No, my card. I have a number of cards. -Yeah?

-Uh... -Oh, God.

-No, wait. Wait, wait, wait. -No, it's fine, I...

Arabela? They can't hold him. Go.

Fine.

Sebastian, get out of there.

Time to go, mate.

Just a little longer.

No, we're out of time.

Got it.

Oh, my... Oh! Shit!

Oh, no, no, are you okay, man? I am so sorry. I'm a little bit drunk.

-Get this guy out of here. -Yeah, it's okay. Hey!

-Hey, how are you? -Fine, I'm fine. Yeah.

-Want to have a drink? -Maybe later.

-Okay. -Bye.

What are you doing?

-Is this not the toilet? -It's over there.

Hey. I think we can run it a bit closer next time.

What?

Oh.

I, uh, scrambled the signals in case anyone was listening.

What did we get?

Cameras, audio, and every keystroke they input comes directly to us.

So if they incriminate themselves, we will have them.

-What's so urgent? -Diagho's gone to the police.

That piece of shit should be dead.

-Whoa. -Yeah.

They have nothing but his word.

The match proceeds tonight as planned.

Um...

Is this a good time to talk about me getting a raise?

Ah! Come on.

Maybe you're just not very good at this game.

All right, Delfont-Bogard, you and me. It's on.

Didn't you say that adversity brings a team together?

Something like that.

-Oh! -I give up.

-Oh, come on. Rematch.

-Thanks for the belief. -All right, my turn.

It was all down to you, Berger.

-Have you told young Erik yet? -No.

Well, you must do. You must.

Sons love to hear about their fathers' heroic exploits.

I will.

Jan, could you turn it up, please?

Club owner Victor Arshad was today arrested

as the mastermind of a pan-European match-fixing syndicate.

Arshad is thought to have fixed the outcome of hundreds of matches

and to be behind the bombing at Legia Stadium,

which injured 16 and killed controversial player Kalifa Konare.

-Why are we here? -It's still under review,

but we have enough evidence to prove to UEFA

that you were severely coerced...

and we're pushing for their leniency.

In the meantime, there's somebody you should talk to.

Legia's new manager.

Thank you. I will honour Kalifa.

Thank you.

Thank you.