All language subtitles for The little drummer girl - Partie 5 (HEVC, 1080p)

Salim was captured once by the Jordanians.

And he was proud of it.

- Why? - Because he was taken in with Khalil.

It was in the evening, he said.

A convoy of jeeps came into the camp and they grabbed Khalil first, then Salim.

Then they beat Khalil down.

Took off his shoes and made Salim hold his feet

whilst they whipped them.

- And? - And then they change over.

They whip me now.

My brother is holding me.

Our feet aren't feet any more.

They're unrecognizable.

He said you nursed them back to health.

You bathed their feet, read to them.

And then you made them plan new attacks.

My brothers did sleep away at night.

They went fishing.

They were boys.

Wait! Salma!

Wait!

Mesterbein made the drop.

So, Mesterbein posts this, then returns to Zurich.

It's an essay. But it's nonsensical.

Meaninglessness filled with meaning.

But who is it intended for?

The French observed the pickup in Lyon.

A factory worker.

And what about our other two beauties?

Rossino's still in the UK,

and it looks like Helga's shacked up with him.

Isn't this handwriting familiar to you, Mr. Schwilli?

Michel's apartment.

One to Germany, one to France.

The loops are tighter on the E's,

but the pressure is similar. Also, the spacing.

From Zurich,

five days before the bomb that killed Gabriel.

Who is communicating here?

- Mesterbein, of course. - He wrote it.

Who created it?

If these are orders --

Then why isn't Rossino in France?

Okay! Everybody, off the truck! Off the truck!

- Move, move! - Leave your stuff!

Off the truck! Women, this side!

Everybody, hurry up! hurry up! Let's go.

We got no drugs. No outside names. No personal conversations.

And never, ever enter restricted-access areas.

If you break the rules, you will be executed.

I want two lines looking at me, facing me.

Everybody, you at the back. Eyes on me.

All white scum from the West, follow me!

We got rules in this camp, people.

Stay with me. Follow my pace.

No inappropriate clothing. All clothing must be cut.

Why has Rossino been in London?

Legal offices, the Polytechnic of Greater London, a synagogue, some houses.

- Targets? - They can't all be targets.

There's something else linking them.

Guess what?

The Valkyrie's back in town, too. Our good friend Helga --

She met with Mesterbein yesterday.

Different cards, different countries.

Different attacks.

Who are we?

We're the ones with no name.

No uniform.

- We... - Cease fire!

We are the grieving, outraged mother,

and we have come here to take up our dead father's fight.

Comrade Leila. Take aim!

We are the awakened militant who has wasted too long

Who taught you to shoot that way?

Two on the right. Hands on your left!

I shoot with two hands!

- Two hands. - Louder!

Two hands!

Two hands!

And I, man, I am the cause, man.

I have put my hand on the Palestinian heart.

I am on fire, but I am plenty.

- Fire! - I am resourceful.

I am Comrade Abdul,

citizen of the world revolution, day and night,

from this camp, from the pain camps of Lebanon,

from the concrete tombs of Western Syria.

We will find each other here.

And together,

we shall light the torch on behalf of 800 million starving mouths.

Together, we shall fight against capitalist exploitation,

against Zionism,

against the cancers of colonialism.

We have talked of courage.

This method gives one hour from the time we said it.

You must wind the hand back at the last possible moment.

There are some fools who get so excited

when the light bulb comes on that they forget.

Ding, thak,

Boom.

I said fire!

I'm not using any bullets, fool, when everybody shoot, I don't have to fire

Is everybody watching?

This is how we do it!

Forget it. Piss off.

It gets lonely around here.

I'm not lonely, go away.

- What's your real name, Leila? - Read the rules, Comrade Abdul.

You think you're going to be a fighter?

You know those Arabs?

They ain't going to give you no mission in that bunker of theirs.

No, no, you're just a...

You're just a tourist.

- They're training me. - Oh, yeah? Yeah?

I mean, you seen them trust in any white person yet?

I'm useless here,

and,

well, I'm a risk outside, and, um,

I've been here two years, two years,

I've been here two years,

two years, and

They're gonna kill me any day now.

I mean, I-I don't -- I don't ever eat too much food. and

I don't -- I don't even use the soap in case I cost them too much.

Tayeh, Tayeh.

I mean, he just...

He just points at the desert and says,

Well, if you want to leave, you can leave.

And then he just laughs like...

Like God.

But what would happen if I did?

You're stronger than me.

And look, I worked out the map coordinates to this place, yeah?

333 --

33/44

33/44/38.4 north.

33/25/17 east.

And, um, look, look, look, look, look.

you just, uh -- you just --

you just drop a note to the US Embassy, okay?

And you just -- you just say that, um,

that Arthur -- Arthur A. Halloran,

yeah? He'd -- He'd like --

He'd like to come home and --

and pay his debt to society, okay?

Yeah. My m-- My mom would visit me in prison, I think.

I think w-- she would. Now listen, listen.

I think w-- she would. Now listen, listen.

Listen, her name -- her name -- her name is Janet.

What's yours? I mean, what's your name?

Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay.

Hey

For all I know they sent you here to test me.

- Get out. Get out! Get out, get out. - No.

You know what the penalty for spying is?

Oh, now, Tayeh's gonna love me!

We got a spy! We got a spy!

You see, I caught her spying, ladies and gentlemen.

She's a traitor.

- I told you I was useful, man. - He's lying.

I only went in there to report him. He tried to jump me last night.

Oh, the bullshit of Babylon, right there!

She came on to me.

So I told her the rules.

Does anyone believe that?

That I would seduce Comrade Abdul?

Hey, Wait, wait, wait! Wait!

Why would you step in there without permission?

You know the penalty for spying is execution.

Yes, yes, yes!

Comrade Abdul broke the law.

No private conversations.

You are a liar.

Arthur A. Halloran!

That's his real name, right?

He told me that last night.

He asked that I go into an embassy

and say that he could betray us

and that his mother would visit him in prison.

And her name's Janet.

How would I know that if I were lying?

Yes its fine. I can see

She is telling the truth

What? What? What?

Come on, man! Come on!

I just -- I just --

I just told her that to get her to put out.

Tayeh, that's -- that's all, man.

Come on.

Please. Please.

Who is this?

Joseph

What?

I don't know.

In greece when you were where with your acting friends.

You say you were alarmed, from unbarred name.

He is just some creep businessman follow me around.

In Athens with Salim on your first night

People heard shouting form your room.

We weren't shouting, we were...

What?

We were having sex.

- You enjoy sex - I can do.

Pack your bags, comrade

We've got something.

We counted the number of characters in each sentence

and applied that to the ASCII key code.

You get whole words. "Défense" for the French postcard,

"Vergiss" for the German one.

Which translate to "defense" and "forget."

Progress.

But they're still meaningless.

What's he after here?

This isn't about killing for him.

It's about the show.

They're preparing Charlie for something.

For what?

Marty?

Bodies are still being counted, but an Israeli journalist

attending the conference in Lyon today with his family

is believed to have been the main tar--

Ask the French if there was a wire doll.

We're fools!

This proved it,

Khalil has another cell.

Now, if you want a return on your investment --

So I'm the schmuck, the money-man.

Martin Kurtz is the talent!

We're getting closer!

Do you really think bombing a few camps is going to stop him now?

They are bombing us, Marty!

Charlie is in Lebanon.

She is on the inside.

Where?

Well, then. Wouldn't he expect a response to this attack?

And if it doesn't come, won't that make him suspicious?

I answer to the people, Marty. Not you.

There is an artist in Lebanon,

have to sell the body made in Lyon!

Noah? It's Gadi. D--

Ah, oui.

Thank you.

Salma!

Shukran.

I'm Kareem.

Leila.

You can be Charlie here.

It is a rule of the camp

that buildings should not be permanent,

in case we forget where our true home is.

- You're a doctor? - Yeah.

We have to be a little of everything here.

Sit.

I read your letters to him.

Your diary.

You do not love Salim.

You love his death.

They are the same thing now.

Yeah.

People in our world, Charlie,

they will be drawn to you...

Because you can lie.

Because you have a pretty white face and a clean passport.

I brought you here because I want you to be true.

They'll make you feel like you belong, Charlie.

You'll become ashamed of deceiving them.

You might even decide to tell them the truth.

But the second you do,

they will turn on you.

Torture you.

Kill you.

How was he,

the last time you saw him?

Please?

Honestly?

Yeah.

He was vulnerable, and he could barely move.

Why?

I see.

You and he had a fantastic night.

I understand.

I understand.

We found a new postcard, Gadi.

We got it from Rossino's flat.

He collected it from a PO Box yesterday.

What? Stop! I'm trying. Okay.

Oh, you find me funny, too, do you?

- I'm trying. - No.

No. You are 'armalat alshahid.

We respect that.

What's -- What's that?

A-a martyr's widow.

We are, too, in a way.

Yasir and I.

And we're glad you have come.

How -- How do you say, um, Bin na jeh.

What? You told me to say that! What did I just say?

That's what I said, na jah.

We all know what that means.

Charlie

Who're they?

Children of the death.

Maram!

Maram, come down!

I can't --

Al Nakba.

Al Nakba! Al Nakba!

Five camps.

I'm sorry.

The war of Independence, 1948.

What do they call it?

"The Catastrophe."

- Or -- -"Disaster."

- Who started all this? - The British.

Now, Khalil isn't attacking people.

He's attacking ideas.

The theater of the real.

He needs people's attention

Because without an audience, there's nothing.

Khalil is a showman.

Helga, Rossino.

- They're in England. - Yes. - What about Charlie?

A British girl on British soil.

He won't be able to resist.

The other postcards broke down to two words,

"Defense" and "Forget."

And both victims were ideologues.

The journalist in Lyon, Rosen, he was set to give a speech.

"Défense Offensive."

"Défense."

Bad Godesberg. Fineberg's uncle, the scholar --

He was writing about Germany, about the Holocaust.

W-W-What was the name of his new book?

- "Vergiss Nicht." - "Never forget."

So, to sum up.

First, the date

the word "Disaster" gives us Al Nakba.

Second, the location --

the British are responsible for Al Nakba.

Britain.

Third, the target --

thinkers, so they wound us more deeply.

The Israeli would strike back

Without the response

we are just a few Arabs in the dust.

Don't you understand?

For the Palestinians even to exist,

we must lift the world up by the neck.

The anniversary of Al Nakba is in three days' time.

We look for any event on the 15th --

anything that might tie to disaster,

catastrophe, independence, Al Nakba.

Anything even close!

And when they strike back, we will strike back again,

and again, and again.

Yes.

I am at the Polytechnic of Greater London.

An Israeli professor is holding a talk here on the talk on the anniversary of Al Nakba.

The word "Disaster" is in the title of her lecture.

Why not have a flashing light and a siren, too?

Play nicely, Shimon.

It's our ball, but their court.

He's been looking forward to this, you know, sir. Immensely.

This way, sir.

Mr. Raphael,

meet Captain Meadows. Captain Meadows, meet Mr. Raphael.

- From Tel Aviv. - An honor, sir, actually.

Fine moustache.

I knew a Raphael once.

Some shit-heap town in the Golan Heights.

You were probably just a kid back then.

Fighting with the Irgun, no doubt,

like your mucker Gavron.

Anton Mester-been.

Mesterbein.

He runs a legal practice out of Zurich,

from which he offers representation to a variety of rather radical organizations.

Who's the woman? Frau Astrid Berger,

alias Edda Schmidt. Currently going by Helga Stern.

No Mesterbein on the magic box, sir, sorry, not even a POI.

Well, we've moved on, Meadows.

Astrid Berger, Edda Schmidt,

Your ignorance here is no reflection on your excellent records department, Commander.

Until a short time ago, we were also unaware of Mesterbein's dalliances.

What enlightened you?

Well, that one I know.

He's the genius who scored an own-goal on the Munich autobahn, yes?

Same chap we pointed out to you at that poxy forum.

And we were very grateful, too.

Because since then, our sources have revealed

that all of these players are part of the same cell.

And now they're all holidaying in England, hmm?

Do you know anything about an English bird, Charmian Ross?

She was at that forum, too.

Last seen crossing all sorts of unfamiliar borders

in a car not dissimilar to that driven by

your toasty Arab friend there.

Now we have Mossad agents crawling all over London.

Hell of a coincidence, don't you think?

NRA on Berger, Stern, or Schmidt, either, Sir.

For God's sake, Meadows.

This picture was taken by a lucky chance in Greece.

Oh, she's definitely on our system, sir.

We know her from the forum, too.

I am proud of you, Meadows.

I think Mr. Raphael and I could do

with a breath of English fresh air.

Get all that from that kraut ninny Dr. Alexis, did you?

I am told he has been a most accommodating ally.

Oh, yeah?

Funny.

The only Israeli he said he'd dealt with was a "Schulmann."

Had a little whippet, never caught the name.

Do you know any Schulmanns, Mr. Raphael?

You see, it's one thing to piss on my leg and tell me that it's raining.

It's quite another to take a bloody great shit all over me

without the courtesy of a weather report.

Come off it.

Operation Mincemeat, we invented that.

Find a corpse, stuff it with disinformation,

leave it somewhere for the enemy to find.

I have a hunch, though, that you clever lot have taken it one step further.

No dead meat to hand so you find yourselves some nice fresh meat

and bumf blow it up in a Mercedes.

And now they've bitten.

I bet you're chuffed to the bullocks with yourselves, aren't you?

On my desk, Williams, please.

I am ready.

Whenever you say.

We let them in?

- And let them explode the bomb. - Yes.

In my bloody country?

An attack you can control is better than one you concede.

Who says we conceded?

The Irish. The UVF. anyone who tries their luck.

You will be given full credit for any success we have, public acclaim.

Yeah, and all the crap when it goes wrong.

Go on, on you go.

Do you know,

back in '47,

when I was still a junior,

we took in this little Israeli shit for questioning.

The same town in the Golan Heights.

A gang of kids had been taking pot shots at my men, you see.

And I was sure that this boy was a weak link,

sure he'd spill the names.

But the harder I pushed, the quieter he got.

Nearly broke my bloody hand.

But he didn't breathe a word.

Not one name.

When I let him go, I thought to myself,

"God, if I haven't made a little drummer boy right here,

ready to bang his gong into the next battle they find for him,

I don't know what I've done."

Half the kids in that town went on to become Irgun.

Bloody Zionist thugs.

Next year they marched into the Palestinian village of Deir Yassin.

Most vicious slaughter I've ever seen.

Gadi was right, Marty.

It's Professor Minkel.

Rossino's locations were all hers.

Every one is on her itinerary.

He went to the library she's visiting, the café she's holding interviews in.

They're looking for the best moment to approach.

Does anyone have an aspirin?

A woman fitting Charlie's description was seen boarding in

Beirut airport this morning.

The professor arrives at the university tomorrow

to scope out the lecture hall for the evening.

The pieces are falling into place.

How did she look? They say strong.

We need to use your spine here, Gadi

-I'm a hands her. - Are you?

It's funny.

I've only been gone a month...

And yet it feels like I've never been here in my life.

Better work.

Imogen Baastrup?

If you are Afrikaans now, Charlie,

you must be a complete fascist.

I heard you were wonderful, you know.

Even Tayeh was impressed.

Have you met him?

Khalil?

No one meets him.

Just Tayeh and his family.

Why don't you come to bed with Mario and me.

You need to relax so you can get a good sleep for tomorrow.

You sound like my mum.

You don't like your mother, Charlie?

Well, it's more her that's not too keen on me, to be honest.

I'm tired, Helga.

Then we shall blow them all up.

These English you hate so much. Yes?

Yeah, why not?

Why do you think we brought you back here, Charlie?

She seemed fine.

She looked cute, actually.

I think she's playing a character.

She's saying nothing because there is nothing to say.

The professor is on a way.

Our time has arrived.

Both peoples are wounded. Yes.

Drinks?

Ah, yeah. I'll get them.

That'll be £1.10.

Two Cokes, please.

Here's your coffee.

And a glass of water, please.

Thank you.

Thank you.

- Thanks. - See you. - See you.

that it is only through accepting our own faults

that we might forgive those faults in --

How was it? Can you hear me okay?

Yes, I can hear you fine.

Let me get some light refreshments prepared downstairs.

- Now. - No.

You tell me you know that lady.

No one can hear us.

I think I know that lady.

Really? Which lady?

Professor Minkel?

I'm -- I'm so sorry to trouble you. My name is Imogen Baastrup.

I'm a graduate in social studies from the University of Durban.

I was lucky enough to get your lecture last year

on minority rights in racially determined societies.

Anyway, I'm so sorry.

I was wondering if I could shake your hand?

Professor Minkel's about to have something to eat.

It's alright.

Thank you so much! How long are you staying here for?

Just one night, for the lecture. And you must come.

Ah, no, I'm so sorry I can't make it tonight. I'm actually visiting my cousin.

Imogen!

Alessio, look!

This is the professor I was telling you about from Israel.

How do you do.

He's thrilled to meet you, even if he doesn't seem it.

We both are. I have not stopped talking about you for a year.

Anyway, I really hope tonight...goes brilliantly.

- Thank you. - And it was an honor to meet you. - Thank you.

- Thank you very much. - Thank you.

- Bye-bye. - Bye!

The briefcase. Into the auditorium.

A bomb?

Unclear.

- Do we evacuate? - No!

- Gadi? - We've got it out of range.

It's light.

We're clear.

It was a switch.

She'll be coming back tonight.

- We're closed. - Return the case.

It'll make a bigger impact.

At the main event.

Khalil's building a narrative.

They're splitting up, Marty!

They're splitting up! We need to follow them!

No. She'll be back.

This is insane. How do you know?

Because that's what I would do.

We're losing them because you're slut-struck!

We let her go!

Marty!

He will use cut-outs, drag us around half the country.

Do you think a surveillance team will survive that unnoticed?

Marty?

We don't follow.

Calling off the pursuit. Calling off the pursuit. Return to base.

There was no message in the cigarette packet.

No contact.

The bracelet on her right wrist?

A new one. Thread.

Thread?

She must have lost the real thing.

You bet all this on a piece of string?

- It was gold and blue. - Come on!

None of his other girls were brought to Lebanon, after all.

Because of our fiction, it is an all-or-nothing game now.

She is either a dead body or a family member.

Drink to our brothers in the black sands of Palestine.

What is this?

I can feel him, Gadi.

Close.

I give it another month at the longest and we'll take him.

We made them in the camps.

It's fashion, Helg.

Radical chic.

She wove that bracelet.

That is more precious for us than gold, than lapis.

Whatever happens, you should be proud.

Okay.

Good.

I'll let her know. Yes.

Yes, I'll make sure.

Leave that. We go.

Good luck, Charlie.

Take the green bus seven stops.

Get off and you'll see a church.

There will be a blue van packed outside. Yellow ribbon tights the wing mirror.

It will take you to your destination.

We drink to our brothers.

In the black sands of Palestine.

Khalil.