Original subtitles

THIS SERIES IS A FICTIONAL WORK

Get him! There you go!

Let's sing Happy Birthday to Junior!

Happy birthday, Junior!

Happy birthday to you Happy birthday, Junior

Happy birthday, Junior

Let's take a picture. Gather around.

- Just family. - Get here.

Come closer.

Hold up!

Waldemar!

Come here, kid! I said family! Get here.

- Come on! - Let's go!

There we go.

There we go. Get in here.

Cheese!

Want some?

You shouldn't have done that.

You killed him like a coward.

Sorry.

I couldn't stand watching that old fuck messing with you.

What's the deal with Curió?

He needs to see you're not some thug. You're a man.

Do you know how bad you fucked up?

Curió just put a bounty on my head, Crazy.

Just say I did it!

- What? I'll take responsibility! - Listen...

- It was me! You're good. - Crazy!

- Are you insane? - Fuck that! I was the one who did it!

Listen to me, Bradock.

You know we're in this together.

We're tight.

No.

You're alive, Crazy.

I'm a dead man.

CITY OF GOD THE FIGHT RAGES ON

Hey. How's it going?

Check out my campaign material. Hey.

Lígia, this is Stringy, my advisor.

He works with us. This is Lígia, a journalist from Spain.

- Hi. - Nice to meet you.

She sought me out to get help on an article.

But I think you're the guy for this one.

- Me? - Yeah, you.

Lígia, Stringy is a community leader in the City of God.

- He could help out. Right, Stringy? - What's the article about?

Death Squad, police militia, organized self-defense group...

- Whatever you call them. - I know nothing about that.

- They've never been here. - They're pretty close. In Blue Gardenia.

See? She knows more than I do.

What about that friend of yours? The photographer?

- What about him? - He's all over the place, right?

He could help her if you talk to him.

You're playing with fire.

- Those guys... - They are criminals.

Some people think they're heroes.

- Extorting people? - Or protecting them.

- Depends on how you look at it. - Those guys are thugs.

There's plenty of thugs in Rio.

Gambling houses, politicians, cops, drug dealers...

You're picking a fight with the militia?

Here's some context.

The militia's past begins with The Man in the Black Cape.

Violence was out of control at the time.

The residents started gearing up, forming self-defense groups,

hiring hitmen for protection.

Cavalcanti was one of the first.

There were others, too. You know Mariscot?

The cop that bragged about never making an arrest.

Yeah, he killed instead.

Hands up! This is a robbery!

In the 70s, it was common for cops to offer security services.

Prison numbers were low, and the coffin business was sky high.

Those killers were hailed as heroes.

Newspapers always gave them first page,

a group of vigilantes armed and equipped by the State.

Do you know why we call them "prospector cops"?

Because they pine for gold in the muck of crime.

Those guys created Shield Le Cocq.

- The biggest death squad of the country. - I know.

After cleaning out the city, their profit was gone.

No one hired killers anymore, because there was no one left to kill.

That's when they started diversifying.

They controlled everything.

From cooking gas to cable TV.

From urban transportation to drinking water.

And that, lady, is the story everybody knows,

but won't tell out of fear.

Do you know why? They're not the forgiving type.

That's why I'm here.

Someone needs to tell that story.

Thank you.

To tell this story,

you're going to need facts, evidence and witnesses. Right?

But no one will talk to you.

Worse yet, if they talk, they'll be signing a death sentence.

Thank you very much for your concern.

Beer's on me.

You're fucking good, Rocket.

Print this one. Make it big.

- This one. - Okay.

One hundred and thirty-five...

Fuck.

Not to brag, but I look damn slick.

- I look like Tom Cruise! - Dream on, Dad!

- You look hot. - Print two of this one.

- Screw it. Make it three. - Sure.

- Excuse me, guys. - What?

Sorry, boss.

I need to borrow you, sir.

Can't you see I'm fucking busy?

It's serious, boss.

Hang tight.

Valderrama was shot in the face.

They went savage, sir.

- Closed casket and all. - Shit.

Who made that shit up?

Bradock wouldn't fuck up like that.

He wouldn't.

We can ask about it in Nicinha's bar.

- This shit isn't adding up. - Come on, Dad.

If that shit's true, there will be revenge.

That's right, Curió.

Rocket, get your shit. Make an album with all of them.

I'm not proud of watching the start of another war in the City of God.

What I didn't know was that Bradock, following Jerusa's orders,

was also making his moves for power in Rio de Janeiro.

What's up, Ocimar?

Ocimar.

A big shot in cockfighting, and Curió's nemesis.

You heard what happened?

I heard.

I wish that shit hadn't happened.

Didn't you?

Then you should've put a bullet in Curió's head.

Now you're fucked, buddy.

Shit's going to get ugly for you, brother.

I know you and Curió don't see eye to eye.

I came to sort that out with you.

You're talking shit, brother.

We have our differences.

But he minds his business, I mind mine.

- Life goes on. - Ocimar, here's how it is...

I have something to show you.

That's what I'm talking about.

Where did you get this shit?

What matters is I got it, Ocimar.

Look at it. Grenades, .50 caliber, assault rifles and all.

What's in it for me?

With 5 gold medals, 11 silver medals, and 3 bronze medals,

these are Brazil's best results in the Olympics so far.

We are at...

- How much? - Three reais.

- Here. - Thank you.

Who's the president of the residents' association here?

I want to rent a place, they said he could help me.

- Everyone knows him here. - Where can I find him?

See that white car?

Turn right, ask around, everyone knows him there.

- Okay. Thanks. - Okay? Your change.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

Showing up at Blue Gardenia

asking about the president of residents' association

is like showing up at the jungle asking where the lion's at.

- Hey. - Hi.

- Is Touro around? - He's inside.

- Okay. Thanks. - You're welcome.

I don't know if she realized how dangerous that was,

but I learned something about her.

Once she caught the scent of her target, nothing could hold her back.

- It's late. - Good afternoon.

That's Touro,

the most dangerous man in Rio's West Side.

Have you heard of a microwave oven?

When you set someone on fire in a pile of tires.

That's this guy's specialty.

I'm looking for a place to rent around here...

No, thank you.

I'm looking for a place to rent, and a lady said to come talk to you.

- Are you moving here? - Actually, no.

I'm setting up an office.

An office here?

An NGO. We'll teach kids to use computers, stuff like that.

- An NGO? - Yeah.

I'll tell you what.

Give me your name and phone number, I'll find you a neat spot.

Thanks.

Here it is.

Here's my number.

Feel free to call me.

Sure thing.

Thanks.

Thanks.

Let me set up a meeting.

Somewhere neutral. Maybe at the community center.

- He is like a son to you. - What are you talking about?

There's no talking to snitches.

We deal with them with gasoline, tires and fire.

Come on, Curió. Just try to talk to him.

For the slum.

For our friendship, Curió.

I need your help to set up a meeting with Bradock and Curió.

You stay out of that, Stringy.

Aren't you on a campaign?

Go handle your campaign.

I'm giving you this advice because I respect you.

You'll deny me just like that?

It's just a chat.

What's that rooster's name?

This is Van Damme, Stringy. Van Damme.

Brother, when he fights, he fights for real.

You sure you want me to do this?

If shit goes wrong, it'll blow up in your face.

Wasn't it at fucking 5 PM?

Ocimar said he'd be here.

Are you sure?

Fuck this.

I told you he'd come.

- What? - I was told to deliver this to Curió.

Who told you? Who was it?

Come in.

Deliver it yourself.

Beat it, kid. Get out of here.

- What the fuck is this, Junior? - Cancel all the parties.

Close the bars and everything else.

I want everyone in their homes.

Not even churches.

I don't want innocents dead.

Fucking punk.

That motherfucker sent a message just to make noise.

Shit.

They sent him a dead bird.

Come on, guys. Move those hips.

Attention, community.

For reasons beyond control, every business must remain closed.

Residents are allowed in the street only until 7 PM.

After that, no one outside.

It's an order from above.

Let's try to be mindful, guys.

Paulo! Let's wrap things up for today.

Everybody home.

Seriously! Go home! I don't want anyone outside!

- Did something happen? - I'll explain later.

Delano, come here.

- Come here, my son. - What happened?

Shit hit the fan. Send these kids home right now.

Straight home. I'll explain later.

All right, class is over, guys. Everybody go home.

Go home, okay? Please.

- That motherfucker is dead! - Hey! Guys!

If they flee, they're fucking dead!

- Let's go! - Fuck them!

- Let's get that motherfucker! - Come on, Curió.

You're dead, bitch!

Curió says hello, fuckers!

Motherfuckers!

Let's go!

You'll meet Bradock in hell! You're done!

PQD.

PQD!

Get off the fucking window. Are you trying to catch a bullet?

Fuck, Berenice. Things are ugly out there.

You know Curió is solid.

- The dude strengthens the slum. - So fucking what?

This fucking war is theirs, not ours.

This shit's been happening since Carrot, the Tender Trio and Li'l Zé.

And when the war is over, life goes on for us, right?

Yeah? What if Bradock takes the fucking slum?

How are we going to live, Berenice?

I don't get you right now.

What are you thinking? You want to get in on that shit?

Not under my roof!

I don't need your permission for anything! For anything!

Clayton Machado, also known as PQD.

Brazilian military paratrooper.

Awarded medals and shit for fighting in the Colombian border.

He became famous for saving three soldiers caught in an ambush.

But you know how it is,

the Army fucks with the head of men with heart.

PQD has so much heart that, when he came home,

he was discharged and started working with Berenice, as a barber.

Everyone respects him in COG.

Especially, Curió, who's always trying to recruit him.

But PQD knows that if he gets mixed up with thugs,

he loses the love of his life.

What the fuck is this?

I don't want thugs in my house!

- It's my fucking house. - That shit outside isn't enough?

Can we stop fighting and get along?

Is that too much to ask?

I found this box.

Berenice, I saw one of ours out there, with a gun.

One of ours? Who?

- Romarinho. - Mrs. Laurinda's son?

For fuck's sake.

This shit never ends.

- Is that a shooting? - Get down!

- God damn it. - I'm sick of this shit.

So we're not going, Mom?

I'm not leaving my house on account of any thug.

- Take Leka. - I'm staying.

Come on, Leka.

Instead of helping me, you're making things harder.

Yeah, and now you care?

What do you mean?

So tell me, Dad of the Year, since when do you care?

About me, my grandmother or my mom?

You got some money and went off.

And now you want to come here and act like a savior?

Don't you think it's a bit late to pretend you're a good Samaritan?

- Stop it, Leka! - You don't know what you're saying.

I risk my life every month to send you money!

You get that money by exploiting this place's misfortunes.

Do you know what you've become, Rocket?

A butcher.

And you sell black meat.

The whiteys watch TV, sip on their chocolate milk,

watching us suffer and thinking: "I'm so grateful for my life."

That's enough!

Enough!

That racket outside is enough!

It's fucked up to hear that from your own daughter.

But I couldn't sit on my ass while there was a war outside.

I had to do my job.

Bradock was a loose wire, shorting out.

And the worst part was his insanity was contagious.

The boys that tagged along

acted like their chests were made of steel.

With heavy guns and no fear,

the scales were starting to tip to his side.

- Check it out. - Is that them?

Get ready, boys.

Only that time,

I wasn't going to take pictures of them killing each other.

Leka was right.

It was time I stopped selling black meat on the market.

Nobody is fucking running!

Let's fucking go!

Don't fucking run! Show yourself!

Show up, motherfucker!

- You're dead! - You're dead, asshole!

You're dead, motherfucker!

Go! Let's go!

Motherfucker!

Go fuck yourself!

Force of habit is a bitch.

I look for life, but death always finds me.

Hundreds of residents can't go out to work.

This is directly affecting children and workers in the City of God.

- When do we go in, Dad? - Patience...

is the mother of all virtues.

Let them kill each other some more.

More time is more pressure from the public on the governor.

Let's not dawdle, lest we lose our contact.

You still wore diapers when I was out in the streets dealing with them.

For days, the war between drug lords has left the people restless.

According to anonymous residents,

the group led by drug lord Waldemar Bradock has the upper hand.

There's a very tense and very fearful atmosphere.

I'm glad I can count on you, Father.

Our doors are always open for you.

Thank you.

BAR AND SNACKS

Give me a beer and two glasses, please.

Beer at this hour?

I'm celebrating.

What are you celebrating?

- I found a place for my NGO. - Yeah?

Where?

At the church, there.

At the church?

A toast?

You're one of the most promising men we've had in the last few years.

You stand out in academics and in physical.

You stand out for your courage.

Thank you, sir.

We called you here to have a chat about your behavior.

- Are you talking about... - Your chats with your colleagues.

Resistance to certain approaches.

- Major, on that day... - The situation in the COG is critical.

Sooner or later, we'll have to step in.

I need to know I can count on you.

You know the area and its shortcuts.

You know who's who. That can be useful in a confrontation.

Bringing information...

The information I have

is that 95 percent of the residents in the City of God

are working people.

There's a lot of good people there.

- Most of them. - I've always defended you.

- Don't make me regret it, officer. - No, sir.

Dismissed.

Listen. The NGO with the priest...

It's a bust.

- Yeah? - He's full of talk.

Doesn't get involved in the community. Just gives sermons.

But when it's time to get his hands dirty,

he hides in his cassock.

"Get his hands dirty"?

This bedlam in the City of God...

That doesn't happen here.

You know why?

Because here, in Gardenia,

we cut the evil by its roots.

What's with the coin?

This?

It was my uncle's.

He was respected in the community.

Everything I know, I learned through him.

He started some very important work here in the community.

But he didn't have time to finish it.

And I have a lot of faith in God.

We will finish what he started.

I thought you worked alone.

No way.

If Christ, son of God,

couldn't do it with 12 guys helping him out,

do you think I can do what must be done alone?

And what must be done, Marcelo?

We are back in the City of God.

The situation is devastating. The streets are empty with good reason.

The people here are still tense, unsafe to leave their homes.

This only happens because we are deep within a community,

far away from the postcards.

Bullshit. We sit here on our asses and can't go ruin their party.

What party?

This isn't a game or a movie.

Easy.

I'm just saying.

Then think before you open your fucking mouth.

That shit is ruining innocent lives.

There are women and children involved.

So there are only innocents in the slum.

Everyone's a peach. What do we see out there every day?

Come in.

- Hey, Dad. - Honey.

How are you?

When will this war between you and Bradock end?

It's hell.

We lug the guns,

but you are the real fighter of this family.

Remember when you got home with a busted nose?

How old were you? Eight?

Yeah.

It was because Ruan kept beating up Junior during break time.

So you went and broke his arm.

- He hit me first. - Right.

My fight with Bradock is like yours with Ruan.

He struck first.

I know, Dad.

I also know the stronger one has the means to put an end to it.

Talk to him.

I'll sort this out.

Focus on your championship.

It's your dream, baby.

Drink, Cerol. You're dull as fuck.

What are you talking about?

BLOCK 2

Listen up, guys. Take it easy.

Handguns in the alleys.

Assault rifles in the front. Li'l Foot, with me.

Let's go.

Scumbags are there already.

Over there. Look. Spread out!

Spread the fuck out!

You're dead, bitch!

Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck, man!

You're dead, cocksucker!

Let's fucking go!

Don't fall back! Hold position!

Let's fucking go!

Hold them off.

Don't let them get here.

Don't fucking let them in!

Fuck!

- Get off the fucking window! - Fuck!

You're dead, motherfucker!

Shit's escalating!

Get away from the window!

- Show your face, asshole! - You're dead, bitch!

Ocimar, I'll go!

Leave it to me.

Get down!

Get out of there, Curió!

What's up, Junior? Holding out?

Answer me!

Don't hide, motherfucker!

Waldemar!

Come here, kid! I said family! Come!

There we go. Come on!

We got him.

Fuck! Shit.

Those motherfuckers shot me!

Junior! They shot your dad! We're coming down!

Hold them off!

Stay there and hold out! I'm fucking coming!

You're fucking dead!

- Let's go! - We fucking lost, Junior!

Go! Help him out!

- Motherfuckers! - Come on, ZeroOnze!

- I fucking got him! - He shot Curió!

Go!

- I fucking told you! - This is our corner now!

Let everyone know the Apartments' Corner is ours!

I fucking told you!

You had to be with me.

Curió! You're a dead bird!

If you choose the thug life,

you'll be out of my life, and my home.

You'll be out of it all.

Berenice...

I'm not becoming a thug.

It's for the community.

Weren't you the one that said we need to fight for our community?

This is my way of fighting.

The distance between right and wrong,

between life and death, is just a click.

Each time a photograph is developed,

it's like I'm looking in a mirror,

and a small part of me dies along with those I photograph.

But this picture is sublime!

What about the guy saving the lady in a wheelchair?

It's good for other pages, but this one's impactful.

Well, in my opinion, we should...

- Not now. - You should publish this one.

It shows how the shootouts fuck the people up!

This here is pure gold.

It's about the locals' perspective.

It'll be this one.

It's decided.

Don't you trust me? How long have we worked together?

Every picture you bring that I pick out

sells like water, it's good for all of us.

I can't say his choice surprised me.

No one ever lost money exploiting suffering.

Actually, that's the only thing these guys profit from.

What fucks me up is Leka's words kept hammering my brain.

Reminding me that I sold blood for fucking pennies.

I second this journalist's words!

This is what our Rio de Janeiro is becoming!

True hell!

This kid, who should be in school, is telling us to react!

We cannot sit idly by!

We can't let thugs do whatever they please!

Rio's police needs autonomy to secure people's rights.

The Governor needs to give the green light on what must be done!

Did it have to be this fucking picture?

Israel took advantage of it.

It's giving the cops reason to invade the slum.

I don't get to choose which pictures they publish!

But you took them. Didn't you?

I wound up just giving them ammunition.

He asked the cops to invade and snuff the thugs.

They treat all of us like criminals. As if we hadn't been through enough.

What about you, Lígia?

How's that article going? About the militia?

It's been tough.

I keep trying and trying...

No one will talk.

I'll check the records, see if I can find something for you.

Okay?

Are you serious?

Look at him!

Let everyone know the great Rocket is back!

The man is back!

- That's what I'm talking about! - Yeah, here we go!

- This will be fun! - We'll see.

- This round's for real! - I'll play hard, then!

Throw it in there. Come on.

Take a look at this, boss.

That's fucked up. Clean up well.

Crazy...

What's wrong?

Aren't you happy?

I just took back what was mine.

Now I'll call Curió for a chat.

Bradock. Curió is a problem.

And sadly, you'll have to settle it for good.

When you least expect it,

he'll put a bullet in your back and take the apartments back.

Your wife is right, for fuck's sake.

Curió is a prick, my friend.

You have to nip the evil in the bud.

Ocimar.

It's the perfect moment to do business.

We're in a good spot, Crazy.

Life goes on.

The coot left with his tail between his legs.

He got shot, had to run away.

You think he'll just take it?

Who the fuck asked you for input?

You're a real fucking yapper.

Li'l Foot.

Go get Stringy.

Dude, you sent him a dead bird.

You think he wants a family meeting now?

What the fuck have you been smoking?

I didn't send him any dead birds.

- You sent him a dead bird. - You're nuts. Listen.

Tell the old man I want peace. That's it.

You think he'll listen?

You're a fucking politician. Figure it out.

We teach birds to fly,

but don't expect them to come back and peck you in the eye.

That cease-fire shit, Stringy...

Is that shit for real?

Some things, only God knows.

- I'm not certain. - You buy the shit that traitor says?

I just came to pass the message.

But I hope you work it out and we get peace.

Fuck that.

Curió...

Our business is dealing drugs.

The war business is for coffin salesmen.

You feel me?

You tell that scumbag that if he fucks up again,

I'll take his head and play soccer with it.

Dad.

You buy that cease-fire shit?

Tell that fucker I want everything back to normal.

Soccer, clubs, school, parks, everything.

People are still scared.

Things are rough.

Tell him I buy his bullshit.

And that's final.

Things need to seem like they're fine.

Tomorrow I want the slum as usual.

Everyone outside.

He, in his corner. Me, in mine.

All right.

I told you not to second guess me in front of people!

We lost soldiers, territory and guns!

We need a fucking cease-fire!

Until we recover strength!

Bradock left the taste of blood in my mouth.

At the right time, I'll drink his.

- Good morning. - Hey, good morning!

- Make sure you're not missing anything. - Yeah.

- These two boxes go to Gardenia. - Okay.

And those two there go to Carlinhos from the association.

He knows what to do. Okay?

- It's the pamphlets. - Everything's sorted here.

My God!

- Check it out, guys! - Let me see!

- Stringy, it looks amazing! - Look! Rocket really went all out.

Not bad.

I'll tell you something... Looks great, but I'm pissed.

Bradock and Curió keep making a racket around us

and we pretend nothing's happening.

The cease-fire is good!

Life goes on. Let's focus on the campaign. Come on.

- Higher. - Like this?

- Yeah! - Got it.

No, for real. Why are we rehearsing?

Who's going to a club in this tension?

We're going, girl.

We have to go to work.

- No. - Again, Koral. You're doing great.

- Do it again. - Wait.

My God! Pay attention. That's why I made a mistake.

I was looking at the mirror.

Hey. Thought your dad wouldn't let you come.

He wanted me to come.

And you?

If I learn you're part of a shootout again,

you won't train here anymore.

Got it? There are rules.

- Okay. - Let's go.

No time to lose.

Start stretching.

BLOCK 2

I fucking told you so.

Old Curió tweets like a bird, but won't peck.

Now, to each his own.

You could be a little more ambitious, couldn't you?

There's a limit to everything, Crazy.

Fuck.

Didn't we just take back what was ours?

Wanting more wouldn't be fair to the coot.

Let's enjoy, for fuck's sake.

It's so peaceful.

Enjoy how?

The same way we always do.

MC Leka!

In the clubs of the slum She twerks to the hustlers

And she's good at it

She stops and twerks Down on her knees

She makes that slutty face

You think you're a hustler You wait and see

If I say put it in You put it in

I say shove it in You shove it in

I'm the boss in this bitch I say put it in, you put it in

Put it all, put it all Yeah, put it all in my pussy

- Can I get an orange one? - Sure.

- Five, right? - Yeah.

- Great. Thanks. - You're welcome.

Hi, my love!

Kisses.

Hey, faggot. Stop.

That guy that hangs with Curió, aren't you his brother?

- The one that broke my cousin. - I'm nobody's brother, okay?

I don't know anything. I just came to have fun.

- To have fun? - Yeah, I live here, I want to have fun.

Answer my question. You want a bullet in your face?

- Are you or not? - I don't know anything about my brother!

I just came to have fun!

I don't know anything!

Hey! Stop!

Are you fucking nuts? He lives here!

What's up, PQD? You'll defend these pricks now?

This guy works with me at Berenice's salon.

Leave him alone, brother.

Are you a hairdresser, too?

- Have some respect. - Don't fucking touch me.

Are you crazy, asshole?

Asshole?

Assholes are the ones screwing with workers, motherfucker.

- Don't get it twisted. - You better walk away.

- Who's a motherfucker now? - Let's beat it.

Walk away, bitch.

Asshole.

Don't worry.

You can't even tell it's deserted!

Junior recorded your ass the whole time!

You're here to pick me up, babe?

Came to pay tribute to a hot singer.

- Anyone know her? - Girl.

- Let's go. - We are really in the way, here.

Don't behave, okay?

- Don't do anything Koral wouldn't do. - Okay, bye, girls.

What's up, MC Leka?

I brought you a gift.

A gift?

I can't believe it, Delano!

I haven't seen this in forever!

You're the only one that likes the candy everyone else leaves in the box.

I'm special, right?

Tell me.

Are you lost?

I'm finding my way.

Did you like the show?

Yeah, I dug it.

I'm not convinced...

- What? - I need more enthusiasm, more...

Come on. Did you like it or not?

Come on, dude!

I liked it! I did!

I'm always cheering for you. I'm your biggest fan, okay?

You know what I think about the lyrics, the clothing, the bad words.

- You know, that kind of thing... - My God!

Yes, sir! Next time I'll dress like a nun, sir!

- If you make fun of me, I'll take these. - No, you won't.

- Yes, I will. - You gave them to me!

- I can take them back, too. - No! No you can't!

- I can take them back! - You gave them to me!

I did, didn't I? Come here.

You were this close to getting shot!

What's up, PQD?

You good?

- What the fuck happened to you? - One of Bradock's chumps.

Just because I didn't pay attention to him.

- Who the fuck was it? - Just leave, man.

Forget it.

My beauty will be back for you in no time.

How's Curió, Junior?

He's good. Thanks for asking.

The bullet just grazed him.

Dude, listen to me.

You need more organization.

Stop shooting like you're in a movie.

You need strategy.

How much would you charge to clue us into the shit you know?

I don't want money.

I want peace.

Hey, what's up, man?

Fuck.

Have you seen Bradock's guns?

They're brand new, fine stuff.

You can tell by the sound, it's real war gear.

If you want to butt heads with him,

you'll need better equipment.

How do we get that shit?

Curió, this is Rocha.

Rocha, Curió.

It's all there.

How much for the toys?

You're screwing me here.

Supply and demand, my friend.

You wanted the gear, the gear is here.

I'll give you half.

That's what your old toys are worth.

- This is quality stuff. - It's worth half what you asked!

Not interested? We'll leave. Good luck, friend.

Hey. Come back.

You've got yourself a deal.

I knew you were a businessman.

- Unload. Let's go. - Come on.

Shit, man.

Here.

Close that up.

Dad, why don't you just keep everything?

The guy is an idiot.

The fuck you on about? This is army shit.

Next thing we know there are tanks all over.

Come on, Junior. Think.

So what's up, PQD?

Are you ready to kill Bradock?