All language subtitles for the.little.drummer.girl.s01e01.repack.720p.web.dl.hevc.x265.rmteam

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8.30.

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Hello.
May I speak with Ucki, please?

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Hi. I'm Charmian.

Charmian Ross.

Kurtz: We are thrilled
to meet you, Miss Ross.

Believe me.

He's different.

I can feel it.

You don't kiss like --
-With a smile, please.

With...

He's different.
I can feel it.

You don't --
-Loving.

He's different.

Rachel: Loving, Miss Ross.

What's that
meant to mean?

Fewer teeth.

Good.

That anger?

Hold it and try something
a little new.

I want you to take the essence
of the scene

and make it your own.

Um...

The other night,
I was in the pub with him.

My mates, too. And --

**

And I was smiling along,

playing snooker, pool, whatever,

and I saw these pissed old farts
in the corner,

hassling this lady.

-Get off.
-Come on, Charlie.

Leave it.
It's fine.

I started a fight.

I started a fight
with this idiot in charge.

-Charlie.
-No!

Do you know what a word
like "poof" means to him?

-Chas!
-And I shoved him.

I shoved him, and he --
he went flying, and I-I felt...

I threw up on the snooker table,
Chas.

He didn't even know
I was gay!

Ah!
I felt so alive.

I'm sorry.

Johnny grabbed him and --
and pulled him away from me,

and I saw him falling in love
with me.

Infinitely.
And he saw me burning inside.

For God's sake.

Ooooh, shit!

And in that moment,
his eyes were endless.

**

I grabbed him
the moment we got outside,

and he kissed me so hard
that his teeth hit mine.

**

Pleasure's the antidote
to death, right?

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Marty:
Two clocks, two batteries, yes?

Litvak: That's what
this German said.

They will tell us the attaché
was the target.

We fly all the way
from Israel for that.

Do you think
it was the uncle?

The 'Outspoken
Talmudic Scholar'?

Oh, as if there is
any other kind.

Yes, thanks to the attaché's
survival, we have a witness.

**

Which name
was I going to use?

Schulmann.

Dr. Paul Alexis.

-Yes.
-Department 6.

The blast came from
the au pair's room.

Wonderful work.

Pretty girl,
this au pair?

Young?

Au pairs are usually young,
but...

Sure, sure.

Uh, tell me, was
Mrs. Fineberg present

when you interviewed
the attaché?

Naturally.

He was still in shock.
Why?

I think I should speak
to him alone, don't you?

I think the guilt that is
stopping his mouth now

will force it open
if it is just us Israelis.

Oh.

The au pair's
beautiful friend,

uh, what were her
distinguishing features?

Anything unique?

I never said
she was beautiful.

Didn't you?

Well, what was
she wearing then?

A cardigan.

A cardigan.

Hmm.
-Hello.

And how -- how far
was it buttoned up?

Honesty now.

**

Hello.
May I speak with Ucki, please?

Your au pair.

Fineberg:
Ucki didn't tell you?

Yeah, she left on holiday
just two hours ago now.

I thought she wasn't leaving
till tomorrow.

Her mother gave me this
to bring her.

Records.

Ucki's crazy about
Yankee pop.

Marty: Blonde or brunette?
Dyed or natural --

up or down?

-Would you like to --
-My friend is waiting.

Blonde. Dyed.
Down.

Hmm.

An attractive Western girl,
again.

And you took the suitcase
up to the au pair's room?

Yes.

Into
the au pair's room?

- That is true.

Now, think hard.

Was there
anything else?

Anything about this woman
that she, herself, might miss?

A bracelet? Rings?
Earrings?

**

Driving?
On foot?

Driving, uh, an NSU.

The color, uh, salmon or peach,
uh, Vienna sausage.

Copper-brown.
NSU makes a copper-brown.

She was
in the passenger seat,

looking back at me,
over her shoulder.

Back?
What about the head rest?

I'm certain
I saw her face.

**

What about the driver?

He was Arabic.

**

He looked worried,
I think.

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Yes.

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This was everything
that was retrieved.

Ja, Herr Schulmann.

Nothing elegant?

Absolutely everything?

Everything
related to the bomb.

Was there
something like this?

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Thank you.

A copper-brown NSU was found
abandoned in a car park

outside of Munich
this afternoon.

The head rest?

-Missing.
-Right.

Only the passenger side.

Get her description out.

I want surveillance on every
suspected safe house in Munich.

Okay.

Ah.

**

Ah. Lovely.

Ha.

It's rather big,
isn't it?

They tattooed adults
and children the same size.

Children grow.

So does the tattoo.

My God.

Dr. Alexis.

May I call you Paul?

Yes.

I have learned it is best,
as Israelis, to be selective.

Find a friend, help him
along in his profession.

Guardedly.
Informally.

And, in return, we expect
our friends to help us.

Huh?

So...

A few years ago,
a bunch of Palestinians

raised a certain amount
of hell in my country.

First, they hit
a supermarket in Beit She'an.

Next,
a few settlements.

And when they began
to attack schools,

I could not take it
any longer.

They were four brothers,
our intelligence said.

Family.
And the eldest of them...

Hmm,
he had a genius to him.

I'm sorry to compare him
to a German,

but he was Mozart.

An Austrian.

Hmm?

Mozart was.

Oh.
That's right.

**

Khalil.

Khalil.

Khalil, the eldest.

**

I put together a team,

and within months
of our investigation,

any normal Palestinian couldn't
have lit a match near Israel

without us
hearing of it first.

**

But then...

Milan.

And Zurich.

And now...
-This.

Yes.

You know the Arabic driver
of the NSU?

This was
the youngest brother.

Ah.

Mm-hmm.

**

Khalil's cells
are discreet,

impenetrable,

and his people never take
the same route twice.

But, with your help,
who knows what is possible.

Because, you see, Paul,
sooner or later,

a man will
sign his name.

**

Set free, child,
after such wickedness as yours.

What are you
dreaming of?

**

You promised me my life,
but you lied!

You think that life is nothing
more than not being stone dead?

And to keep from me

everything that brings me back
to the love of God,

when it is your wickedness
and foolishness

that tempts me
to hate him.

**

Light your fires,

for I know your counsel
is of the devil

and mine is with God.

-Blasphemy!
-Treachery!

-Blasphemy!
-She's a witch!

-Witch!
-Burn the witch!

Monk: It's Satan!

* Ich steh' ja so auf Disco *

* Von Freudenstadt
bis San Francisco *

* Er steht ja so auf Disco *

* Ooh

**

**

Tell Marty we've got her.

**

Man: Thank you.

**

**

A lot of magic tonight.

Sophie: Charlie.

-Hmm?
-Someone left it for you.

-Did you see who?
-No, sorry.

Dawn took it.
I think she's buggered off.

Hmm.
It's a bit light.

**

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Marty:
We're already in motion, Noah.

The enemy is using Westerners.

So must we.

Our fiction has to
match their reality.

Can't you find
a Jewish ear, sir?

You can't count
on gentile loyalty.

If you want to
catch a lion,

a toy goat
won't play her, Noah.

Our goat
has to be alive.

Has to smell right.

Has to taste right.

Has to have a heart.

Even if it is in the wrong place
right now.

I don't buy it.

This is our chance,
Noah.

We get to Khalil through Salim,
his baby brother.

No.
We take him out.

This fiction nonsense.
Infiltration?

The government needs
immediate action, Marty.

Have your actions
stopped Khalil before?

Huh?

Let us be surgeons
this time,

not butchers.

We get inside Khalil's network,
then we catch him.

The budget for what
I am proposing

will cost less than the gas
in your jets for a single raid.

You are a dreamer, Marty.
Always were.

I am an artist.

And, with respect
for your rank,

you are
a bourgeois asshole.

Oh, of course.

I will need 10 more
team members for this.

10?!

-We got the five men?
-Mm.

Should have asked the bastard
for 20.

The retired lady in London, uh,
Miss Bach, gift for creation.

-The lush?
-Yes.

I want her
in Munich tomorrow.

And get me the old forger,
Schwilli, too.

So, the lush and the crazy.
Perfect.

They're a perfect pair, just
like you and me.

When Miss Bach strays,
he bores her back into sobriety.

**

Hi.
Charlie painted this herself.
Mad, isn't it?

**

Salim:
Necessary sacrifices.

Two Zionists killed in Germany,

and the Palestinian cause
is all over the news.

One of them was
an 8-year-old Zionist.

I'd love to know your politics
at that age.

Al,
the 8-year-old Marxist.

I thought you were
against the Zionists.

As it happens,
I do feel like

there's a way to achieve peace
without killing people.

-Darling.
-Turn the music down, mate.

Hush.

You brilliant people, I-I just
spoke to our agent, Mary.

We have an angel who's fallen
in love with our troupe.

-What does that mean?
-Shush! Quiet!

He's sending us all
to Greece...

What?!
...on some sort of
corporate charity jaunt.

-What? For rehearsals?
-Really?

What? Why are we going
non holiday for work?

"As You Like It"?

You'll bloody love it.

A patron?

What is this, the 1680s?

Oh, just come with us.
Come on.

Work another shift
to cover the fare.

For God's sake,
Charlie,

bombs going off in Germany
and you're celebrating

'cause you get
to sun yourself

and neck Boutaris
in Greece.

Oh, if only you got work,
right?

Then you could come out there
with us and ruin our fun.

**

Willie: Let's go from the top
of the page.

Sophie: Your heart's desires
be with you.

Come, where is this young
gallant that is so desirous

to live with his --
-Lie.

-Lie.
-It's "lie with his mother."

You said live.
It's lie.

Come, where is
this young gallant

that is so desirous to lie
with his mother earth?

Ready, sir.

But his will hath in it
a more modest working.

Oh,
I'm going for a slash.

-Hey.
-Anyone want a drink, huh?

No, thanks, Al.

-No.
-No, thank you.

**

Charlie.

This was supposed
to be our rehearsal jaunt.

I know.
I know.

I'm an idiot.
I'm sorry.

Marty:
Who owns that apartment?

Oded:
Some left-wing German banker.

Ha-ha!

She's a character,
this one, Marty.

Feisty.

Litvak: You like her?

A child killer?

She is patient, Shimon,
which is admirable.

Like Oded.

I forgot to ask, Oded.

How is your myopia?

Did you see
the specialist?

I did.
Thank you.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.

Michel.

**

Marty: My God.

**

Little brother Salim
has grown up.

**

**

Why are you
still wearing that?

-What?
-You stupid?

-No.
-Someone will recognize it.

Take it off.
Take it off now!

Too late.

You've called the devil in.

**

Shh.

Come on.

How hard would it be
to put a rocket

across that road
right now and end it?

We've done it before.

Shimon, that boy is
a blessing to us alive.

What about our boys,
huh?

Are they not a blessing,
too?

**

**

**

This way.
I need to show you something.

**

'72 Olympics.

**

11 Israeli athletes
held hostage here

and killed
by Palestinians like Salim.

You must've been a kid
when it happened.

You're still a kid.

I remember it,
though.

Two killed here.
Nine at the airport.

I saw it on TV.

Hmm.
You know what wasn't on TV?

They castrated
one of them.

So, grow up...

and hold onto
your balls.

**

We must be as patient, Shimon,
as they are.

**

-Hi.
-Hi.

We met on the ferry,
right?

On the way over here?

-Yes.
-You didn't tell me your name.

-Rose.
-Ah.

Where are you from?

South Africa.

Daddy brings his yacht here
when he's on business.

Athens was so boring.

I'll come down, yeah?
-Yeah, yeah.

Come down.
-Charlie?

Hmm?

-It's him.
-What?

He's back.

Action Man.

**

Why does he keep on
hanging around us?

You think
he's following us?

We've seen him at the market,
the pier, the taverna.

He hasn't
looked at us once.

**

I bet he knows
we're watching him.

Oh, screw it.
I'm going in.

What?
Sophie.

Sophie!

**

**

You look like
you might be thirsty.

Um...soif? Sete?

**

Huh?

**

**

**

Thank you.

**

-What happened?
-He's -- He's got scars.

What?

Yeah, like someone's taken
a red-hot piece

of wire
to him or something.

He could be a gangster.

Did you catch his name?

Didn't quite get that far,
I'm afraid.

But I saw
what he was reading --

Debray's "Conversations
with Allende."

Well, I love him.

We should
buy him a drink.

-A fireman?
-What fireman reads Debray?

-My kind of fireman.
-An addict?

-A terrorist?
-You're an oil trader.

Yeah, you look like you
should work in oil.

Oh, you would look good
covered in baby oil.

-Oh.
-A spy.

No, he's an actor.

Look at him.

Me and you, Hollywood,
how about it?

Al got an audition.

Not a bloody audition.

A part.

Just last night,
the producers booked me

first-class ticket
out tomorrow, so...

He's Joseph.

Can't you see?

With his coat
of many colours.

Charlie.

What's your name?

-Peter.
-Peter what?

-Charlie!
-Charlie!

It's fine.
Peter what?

So you're Charlie.

I thought that was
a boy's name.

Well, I'm a girl.

-José.
-Charlie.

No, honestly,
you lot are like little kids.

Animal, vegetable,
mineral.

-Chas.
-Can you not see his schtick?

International
man of mystery.

-Chas.
-Look at that face.

Yeah, well, don't come
crying to me

when he cleans out
your travellers cheques.

Came here to work,
guys.

She --

If you are going
to leave me in here,

give me some beer and caviar,
you angelic Zionist saviors!

Aaaah!

Did you say something
in there?

There are speakers,

so if you want,
you can listen to it in here.

Oh Miss Bach,
you have outdone yourself.

Better even than
I expected.

A couple more scratches
on the walls, perhaps?

As quick as you can. I need
your steadiest hand on this.

-Trust me.
-Mm-hmm.

Ah.
Our newest hunter.

Welcome back, Daniel.

Still kosher,
I presume?

Shimon, make sure
he has everything he needs.

He's a big boy.
He can handle himself.

Uh, thank you for
calling me up, Marty.

Mm.

I was losing my mind
in Tel Aviv.

I've missed
this cheerful bastard.

Oh, he is
a ray of sunshine.

We have put bunks upstairs
for napping in shifts,

and the bedroom
is for Miss Bach only.

And please
make sure you sleep.

A night without rest...

Is a day without
perspective.

Mm-hmm.

Paulie:
Oh, he is devilish, isn't he?

-Who invited him?
-That would be me.

What?
Mind the fire.

-Yeah.
-What's that in his hand?

-Is he trying to...
-Hello, big man.

Willie:
Oh, look at that.

So excited.

-Look at this.
-Hey!

-Lovely.
-Very dangerous.

-What, are you going, love?
-Evening.

-Evening.
-Hello.

Uh,

Sophie:
Please don't ignore me again.

What?

You too, come on.
To the beach!

Let me get a towel
or a blanket.

Once more up to to the beach,
dear friends, once more!

Paulie:
Get some wood for the bonfire.

We're gonna have this
whole beach to ourselves.

**

Do you know this tune,
then?

You were humming it
at the taverna.

**

Guillaume de Machaut?

-No.
-No?

Our friend wrote it for us
back in London.

St. Joan.

Oh.

**

* If you meet me
at the red barn *

* As sure as I have life

* I'll take you
to Ipswich town *

* And there make you
my wife *

Oh, I'm getting lightheaded.

**

* This young lad went home
to fetch his gun *

* His pick ax
and his spade *

* He went on
to the red barn *

* And there he dug her grave

**

* I promised
I would marry her *

* Upon a certain day

* Instead of that,
I was resolved *

* To take her life

**

* To take her life away

**

Hello?

Michel's on the move
already.

Just booked a plane ticket,
Marty.

Say it again, Oded?

He's just booked himself
a plane ticket.

We're off to the races!

Where is he flying to?

-Istanbul.
-Hmm.

Perfect.
Closer than we hoped.

**

-Okay, see you, Marty.
-Thank you.

-I can't believe it.
-No. No, no, no.

Think like him for a moment,
Shimon.

He collects the Semtex
in Turkey, yes,

and then drives
back into Europe,

then on his way
to his next attack.

But where will that be?

There's only one passage open
to the West by land.

We have to move faster
than we expected

so we grab him
at the border crossing here,

on the Greek side,
just like we planned.

We are a go.
Start cleaning, Miss Bach.

**

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**

Morning.

Oh, I'm --
I'm working.

**

Shall I get you a table,
sir?

**

**

Peter: Richtoven.

**

What?

My name.

Peter Richtoven.

Ah.

You're from Germany.

I'm a mongrel.

Even mongrels
have homes.

Not all of them.

Passport.

Mongrels tend to object
to people

fixing their identities
with pieces of paper.

Surely you, as a progressive,
would understand that?

How do you know
I'm a progressive?

You make a good show
of it.

**

Oh, look,
this is ridiculous.

**

Boutaris?

How do you know
I like Boutaris?

I don't.
I like it.

**

Do you always drink
at 9:00 in the morning?

Not in moderation.

Have you ever been
to London, José?

Red Dragon Theatre?

Why?
Should I have?

No.

Rosalind.

My favorite of all
Shakespeare's leading ladies.

Who says I'm playing
a leading lady?

**

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**

**

**

I found something.

**

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**

After that dispute,
I moved to London.

And, God, yeah,
I haven't --

I haven't spoken to Mum
since.

I didn't want to ask her
for anything,

so I-I've been doing bar shifts
and sofas all the way.

Hmm.

I wouldn't have thought you'd be
such a good listener

all the way up there.

Why aren't you married,
José?

Peter.

Well,
why should I be?

Well, I mean, at your age.

Thank you!

And why aren't you?

Er...I refuse to be
a slave to patriarchy.

My new answer
from now on.

There was a divorce.
A few years ago.

Well, of course,
on my side,

there's the small matter of my
deeply dodgy taste in men, so...

What is it? You keep on
trying to say something.

I thought you'd look good
in a bolder color.

I'm leaving.

Today.

Oh, no.

Where to?

Athens.

To tour a little.

Ah.

I don't suppose you fancy
joining me?

Just for
a couple of days.

If your friends
can spare you.

Why?

Well,
because I'm dodgy.

Charlie!
Come here!

-Come on!
-Come over here!

Yeah, okay.

-We need a song!
-Come on!

* Show 'em how we do it now

* Shake your groove thing,
shake your groove thing *

* Yeah, yeah

* Show 'em how we do it now

* Show 'em how we do it now

* Let's show the world
we can dance *

- Yahoo.

* Baby, baby

* Doo, doo-wop, wop

* Oh, shoo, baby, baby

* Shoo, doo-wop, wop

* Shoo, doo-wop, wop

* Oh, can't you see

* I love you, honey, please

* I need you, baby, please

One strawberry ice cream,
please.

**

**

**

**

**

Paul:
The younger brother.

Marty: Mm.

We believe he's recruited girls
like this before.

Oh.

**

**

This one is Anna Witgen.
Some flimsy,

Swedish outcast
from Baader-Meinhof, actually.

Thank you, Paul.

Now, my turn.

I believe this Anna Witgen
may recently have met

with the baby brother
right here, in Munich.

-Really?
-Mm-hmm.

**

Are you going to walk
all the way to California?

Thessalonika.

Kind of vaguely
heading that way.

As vaguely
as you like.

**

Open up the back then.

Can't carry this
on my lap.

**

Ooh.

Fancy.

Show it to me again?

**

**

**

Now, I will need a touch
more help clearing something

across your notoriously
fastidious border.

What something?

**

Well, it's a certain
medical patient

who will be
in a state of emergency.

**

I feel like
a giant chick.

A devilish mongrel
and a giant chick.

Oh, my God.

Rose.

Rose!

What?

You got all those scars
from women, didn't you?

Don't you care for it?

**

**

**

**

My mate has a jacket
just like that.

Peter: Does he?

**

If I ask where we're going,
will that ruin the surprise?

**

They're coming.

To be honest, José,
I, um, I'm --

I'm not -- I'm not a fan
of the al fresco fumble.

I'm a three-course meal
for mozzies.

Leaves me feeling a bit
exposed, you know?

**

Oh.

Charlie: Oh, my God.

**

**

**

**

Charlie:

Where is everyone?

Peter:
It's closed at night.

You bribed the guards?

**

**

**

**

**

How will I ever fall in love
after this?

**

**

They built it to Athena,
Goddess of Wisdom.

She gave her name
to the city.

You're kidding.

They called it
Erechtheion.

Oh, come on!

No, it's true.

The Byzantines then changed it
into a church,

the Ottomans,
a harem.

Now, the same thing happened --
The same thing happened
to the Parthenon.

The temple was built
in mid-5th century B.C.

and was dedicated to
Athena Parthenos, a virgin.

The temple remained intact
until 5th century A.D.

when it was then
transformed into a church.

But soon after,
a mosque.

Then there were various wars
up until 1803

when the Brits
decided to solve it all

by sending in Thomas Bruce,
Lord Elgin,

to steal whatever he could
and enshrine it

as an act of heroism

by selling it on
to the British Museum.

Thanks for the history lesson,
though.

Very enlightening.

Where'd you get
all that?

Same guide book as you,
obviously.

Human sponge, me.

Read it,
hear it, it's in.

-Yeah?
-Mm-hmm.

So what did I say to you
the first time we met?

Well, you thought that Charlie
was a boy's name.

It then took you 19 hours
to tell me your name,

which is Peter Richtoven.

You're a mongrel,
you hate passports,

you drink Boutaris
at all hours of the day.

You act like you've been
everywhere in the world

except London.
You think I'm Rosalind.

You were married once before,

but you don't like
talking about her.

In fact, you don't seem
to talk too much altogether,

and when you do,
you let on very little,

which you think is incredibly
mysterious and alluring,

and actually,
it's just really annoying,

and we both agree
that you're a bit dodgy.

Shall I carry on,
or will that do?

Don't.

Hmm?

Please.

**

**

**

**

**

**

**

So,
where are we going now?

Taj Mahal?

**

Actually,
what is this?

-This?
-Yeah.

Th-This.

All fur coat and great,
bloody chastity belt.

**

Okay,
you need to slow down.

I thought
you liked fast cars.

I never told you that.

**

For God's sake, stop.

Well, why are you
going so fucking fast?

**

Shit!

Okay, I've changed my mind
about all of this,

so can you stop, and I'll --
I'll get out and walk?

It's not far now.

**

What?

What?

What's not far?

No.
I want to go home.

Can you just stop, please?

I'll just get out.

Please.

**

**

**

What's going on?

Some sort of
white slave trafficking?

Please tell me
some good news.

Please.

The good news is I have lied
to you as little as possible.

**

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

**

Rose?

Ahh.

It's me. It's me.
Hey.

Look, I'm not gonna hurt you,
all right, girl?

All right, girl.
-What's going on?

It's okay.
It's all right.

**

Welcome, Charlie.

**

I am the producer, writer,
and director of our little show,

and I would like to talk to you
about your part.

**

**

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