SUNDAY 03:15 PM
53 HOURS OF ROBBERY
"Known for perpetrating numerous robberies at jeweller’s and luxury shops,
Andrés de Fonollosa is also responsible for other sexual offences."
What a curriculum!
Andrés de Fonollosa.
Who would have thought?
Such a refinement
and that stick you seem to have stuck up your bottom.
In the end, it turns out to be that you like whores.
"In particular, being part of a ring of women trafficking
brought in from eastern Europe, from Albania and Bulgaria,
to be sold later..."
Did you also taste the Bulgarian women, eh, before selling them?
"Procuring, extortion of minors,
-deprivation of liberty..." -Minors?
-..."as well as the previously mentioned." -Minors?
-..."arm robbery." -Minors.
"Amongst them, the attempted robbery of a well-known jeweller’s shop
in Vendôme square."
You’re a pig.
Can you tell me why that girl is in your office, tied up?
What are going to do with her, piece of scum?
"According to the latest news, Fonollosa has eluded
this last charge thanks to his cooperation as an informant."
Ah, and a snitch, too...
"...identified by the police together with Silene Oliveira..."
I would never sell women. And much less I would be a pimp.
My ethics code doesn’t let me do it.
The same way it stops me from telling on a colleague,
despite being such a human waste.
And that’s nothing to do with my tastes and my likings, Nairobi.
If you say so.
-"...the robbers’ spokesperson.
A fingerprint from Andrés de Fonollosa has been found
on a button that the officers found in a Seat Ibiza linked to the investigation.
-Specialized police units..." -I’ve never been inside that car.
"...in search for new traces of DNA that can provide some clues..."
But I know who did.
What’s the matter?
What the fuck are you doing with my jacket, piece of crap?
Fuck you, son of a bitch.
Fucking hell.
Tell me, Nairobi, do you know where Denver is?
No.
ReEncoded By Dr.XJ | PSA PSArips.com
A bit calmed and slow, aren’t we? Is it still like this?
Shall I help you?
The sooner we finish the whole, the sooner will get out of here.
Are you tired of being here?
Well.
-This can bore anyone. -You’re bored with 67 hostages,
firing your M-16 and the cops outside the door. Is that why?
Is that why you tried to bite that poor lamb’s neck?
And you started kissing her, while she was scared to death.
What the heck was that for?
To provoke you.
You are awfully quiet when you go for a shit.
And what now?
Are you getting bored of Rio?
-Why do you say that? -Because you’re that kind of person.
Am I?
What kind of person?
Of those, one does not want for their son.
Do you remember what happened in Toledo, the day we had paella?
It was the night of San Juan and you went to the street party with no permission.
Yes.
What is it?
-What’s wrong? -Say.
What?
Did you know that there are over 2,000 trillion stars in the sky?
-So, you have counted them all? -Of course, man.
I need some more fun, here.
And I know, Tokyo, I know you keep something similar to this in your room.
-Some. -Yes. We might as well?
-Whoa, Rio! Whoa, Rio! Poor... -Rio, he was ever so drunk.
-Very drunk. -How dru...
Will you give me a puff?
Listen.
Why did you tell me that about the stars earlier on?
I don’t really know, mate, because it’s a nice thing.
All the stars up there, like... I don’t know.
There, in the mountains. I don’t really know why I told you that, mate.
Nothing else?
-Nothing else about what? -I don't know.
That you might mean something else, no?
Something like if you want to fuck with me or something of that sort?
But... would you like to?
-Come off, mate. -What? Piss off!
Piss off!
Dad...
Dad, what are you doing, standing there?
No, nothing. Nothing, I was there and you weren’t...
Where have you been at this time and like that?
Shush.
-We are back from the street party. -Oh, my.
-The street party. -So you went out from here...
-We never went to the street party! -Don’t lie.
We stayed in drinking. Off to bed.
I can’t sleep now.
I can’t sleep, so I’m going to have a drink, okay?
Dad, you nod off quickly.
Dad, look at me, look at me. Off to bed.
Go to bed. Listen to me.
-Have you got at ciggie? -For fuck’s sake!
-Sure. Here you are, have a smoke. -Might as well.
-Have this one. -Come on.
I’m going to the toilet. But, when I’m back, everyone, to their room.
Come on.
-See if you can have some sleep. -See you later, dear.
You!
Couldn’t you see what I was doing with my eyes so you would leave?
Why?
You spoiled all the fun, dad. Fucking shit...
-Eh... Tokyo and you...? -Yes, there. There.
-Yes, she’s hot. -Hot?
She’s gorgeous, dada. She’s gorgeous.
But there’ll be plenty of time. Now you have to focus.
Focus? I haven’t been more focused in all my life.
What you have to focus on. Let’s go to bed.
Fuck me. I’ m not going to sleep in the same bed with you
after almost going to sleep with that goddess.
I’ll sleep in the fucking car.
-No way you’re sleeping in the car? -Shut up.
You always do the same thing, damn, you’re always doing that.
And what’s wrong, I’m not enough for your son?
I think you’re too much.
Because you live your life like a videogame.
Robberies, shooting, lovers.
Adventures...
-Well, yes, I enjoy life. -No.
You enjoy leaping from one stone onto another in mud pools.
And after you leap, the stone sinks in.
You leave dead bodies behind on the hard shoulders.
That’s what you like.
Whose idea was it to rob the security van? Yours or your boyfriend’s?
Yours, wasn’t it?
So now your boyfriend is a dead man.
And so is your mother.
I’m sure that you were aware of how much harm you were doing to your mother.
And now it’s Rio’s turn.
You’re already bored.
On top of that, you touch a young girl up while holding her at gunpoint.
So irresponsible.
Fickle, superficial, selfish.
How do you define yourself?
If we all do our job and it goes badly,
it’s part of the job.
But if it goes bad because a fickle brat
wants to leave urgently, I won’t allow it.
So, start working. We’ve only got 10 days left.
See if once in your life you fucking finish what you have started.
I dozed off, damn it.
-Yes, I was about to wake you up. -Have I been sleeping long?
I don’t know.
The first time I sleep with a girl and when I wake up, she’s still there.
I don’t know where you expected me to go.
Inside a whole with a shot wound in my leg and amid a kidnapping.
-I don’t have many options, do I? -What’s wrong?
You needn’t be so rough, I saved your life.
You saved my life?
-Yes. -How did you save my life?
How? Like the Jews in Auschwitz?
When a Nazi pulled them off the queue and they didn’t go to the gas chamber.
I’m not a fucking Nazi, huh? I’m not a fucking Nazi.
I remind you that you stole a mobile phone,
-and I was ordered to kill you. -And what did you do?
Hey, what did you do?
You said no, you stopped him? No.
You shot me in the leg.
You humiliated me before everyone.
And now you have locked me up here, I can’t breathe or go to the toilet.
I go where, in a bucket?
So, don't make a mistake.
You may be the best out of all the Nazis, but you still are not one of them.
I’m sorry.
I’m sorry, I wasn’t...
It wasn’t my intention to humiliate you.
I don’t quite know what to do... about all this.
I’m going to take you the toilet, okay? Do you agree?
Okay.
Then, let’s go.
Denver!
My friend!
Come here!
Damn it!
Berlin, wait!
Berlin, stop!
Wait, damn it, Berlin!
Listen to me, stop, stop, stop, stop. You’re right!
You’re right.
Denver might have lost the button of your jacket
because he put on your jacket, but, so what?
-You can’t change that. -But I can punish him.
Berlin.
He’s not resting. He’s not at the museum
or the tunnel.
Or the printing house.
He’s probably gone to the street party again?
Relax, guys, I’ll look for him.
Berlin, please, come to your senses. Come to your senses, huh?
You can’t shoot him because he stole your jacket.
It’s a blotched job. You’re a bloke with style and that’s a blotched job.
What about my dignity?
I have a reputation to keep.
My friends from the Costa Azul have seen my name connected to those lies.
Denver has screwed my honour.
And if someone screws my honour, I’ll destroy him.
Do you understand? We’re talking about integrity here.
Ethics... is important, Nairobi. But... aesthetics, too.
I beg you, please.
Please, don’t screw the plan up for us, Berlin.
-You fucking scum... -Eh, eh, eh. Back off.
Nairobi.
-Stay here. -Helsinki.
What’ll you do, will you shoot me?
Stay... here.
It was a fucking joke the whole jacket thing.
It was a fucking joke the whole jacket thing!
It was a joke!
I don’t know if I’m overdoing it a little with the lipstick.
I might look a bit like a whore. What do you think?
-On the contrary, I have a simple look. -That’s why I’m saying it...
-Let’s see, where are we heading? -For the street party.
So, you need to look like a street... slut.
-What is it? -We’re partying.
Shush.
-The Professor’s keys? -I got them.
Oh, the car...
Fuck!
Done.
-Where is Denver? -No idea.
What do you mean, no idea?
Yes, now we can.
Quiet.
-But, and this? -This is pure elegance.
-Berlin’s jacket? -Yes, that’s right.
-He’ll kill you. -No, he won’t.
Off we go, off we go.
Silence, silence, silence. Silence, it’s coming... it’s coming to me.
-Shush. -What are you on about?
Have I ever told you about my five wives?
They just want us to impregnate them, but later...
what comes out of there...
is a nuclear warhead.
Stop it, you make me feel nervous!
You look beautiful.
-I chose an anime look for you. -I like anime.
What’s the matter?
Have you been crying.
Who do you think I am?
The fucking best woman.
I think I am a fickle person who fucks everyone up.
It’s like I could see myself in a film, and I didn’t...
recognize myself.
Because I thought I was...
different,
but in fact I’m a fucking mad woman who causes pain,
and gets bored of everything.
And who doesn’t make people happy.
And I don’t like the way I am,
nor this fucking book that I saw here in the CEO’s office.
It says I’m a toxic woman.
If you’re trying to break up with me, make me go away or something of that sort,
don’t you dare.
Rio, mate...
I’m burnt soil.
Worse.
I’m a fucking petrol drum and a match.
I love bonfires.
And if you’re toxic, I’ll feel dizzy.
With a joint, and I’ll enjoy it.
Look here.
When I see you at the other side of the museum,
it makes me feel like crying...
just for being with you.
And we fuck and I’m floating around the room.
I know you will leave me.
But why don’t we cope with each other a little longer?
Does it have to be now?
No, it doesn’t have to be now.
Start recording.
-And this hair. -Perfect.
Z-75, to all units.
There is an arm robbery on Alcántara, 33. It’s a ironmonger’s.
Any unit nearby?
Unit Z-32, we are just in front of the door, we’re heading there.
It’s him.
Yes. I’m sure.
Why doesn’t he pick up, where is he?
I’m in front of Karina's school, your daughter.
"And people from my organization are in Krostoma,
watching your wife coming out of the supermarket."
If the identikit you are doing
"looks like me,
you won’t ever see neither of them."
Who the hell is on channel 8?
"The police cannot protect you, Nikolai."
Let go of that, let go of that! Let go!
-Fuck! -Let go of that!
God! What the heck did he say? What the heck did he say?
I didn’t hear anything.
What did he tell you?
H-50. Control room. Where was that message in Russian sent from?
"From a Z, Z-32."
Z-32, do you read me?
"This is Z-32 exiting the ironmonger’s. It was a false robbery call."
Someone is in your car. Run to the patrol car.
Control room, indeed, they went in, but there’s no one now.
He must be near. Look for someone, a suspect.
Male, 40 years old, has a beard.
"There’s no one nearby. We start to move."
Denver!
Denver?
Denver.
-I was looking for you. -Here I am.
The thing is...
my face is constantly in the TV news report.
Do you know what they say about me?
-No. -That I’m thief.
That I can understand, but they all say I like prostitutes,
I am a procurer, I abuse kids. And all that because of a button.
A button from my jacket.
Remember? The one you put on.
And apparently you left it behind inside the car we had in Toledo.
A car that, by the way, I, I’m sure, wasn’t...
I was never in.
Do you know what that means?
I don’t know.
-You do know. -I don’t know.
You have just fucked my life.
Come off.
-What should I do with you? -Berlin.
I’m sorry, mate, I didn’t see the fucking button.
I’ll compensate you with 10 or 15 million from my share and move on.
-Do you reckon? -15 million?
15 million, don’t piss me off.
We go and screw everything. 15 million.
-15 million euros. -I can sign it on paper if you want.
-For a button? -For a button.
-Leave him, Berlin. -What’s going on here?
Nothing is going on.
It’s funny.
I came here... with the idea
of shooting you like, I don’t know, in his feet to compensate
and I’m beginning to feel like shooting him in the head
and I don’t quite know why.
Berlin.
Yes... Shush.
Thank you.
Retroxil, it’s a rare medicine, made to order.
It’s used to palliate trembling
caused by a very unusual degenerative neuronal disease.
What?
Helmers’ Myopathy.
The Russians launched this medicine four years ago
and apparently it was successful.
They were able to change the outcome of Fonollosa's disease
from being a lethal disease for all those who suffer it
to only nine out of ten dying.
So if... Mr Fonollosa is not that one,
he’ll be dead in less than 24 months.
That man has nothing to lose.
But it’s not necessary...
Denver.
Denver, is it you?
I ordered you to kill her on Friday.
And today is Sunday.
Resurrection Sunday!
Praise the Lord.
Sorry, I’ll let you finish in peace.
It won’t be me who disturbs your privacy.
I'm making you a confession, Denver.
When I saw her there lying on the floor, dead,
something inside me was not right.
Sometimes I rush into things.
This temper of mine.
However, it’s clear that this situation is still uncomfortable
and we’ll have to do something about it, but, what?
On one side of the scales, Denver, there are the bad things.
You disobeyed me.
I asked you to kill her,
because that woman had compromised our plan.
Our plan. And you spared her. And let’s not talk about the button,
that, due to your ineptitude, has put my face in TV news,
airports, police stations...
And now for sure, you have definitely spoiled any chance of future for me.
And on the other side of the scales, it’s...
the fact that woman is alive.
And I wonder: What side of the scales do you think weighs more?
Don’t be a motherfucker, Berlin, this isn’t a film by Tarantino, eh?
Put the gun down.
Nairobi, you put the gun down.
-What? -You put your gun down.
Let’s work this out, put the gun down.
Put the gun down.
Whose head are you going to blow now, eh, freak?
Let’s all calm down and put the guns down.
Berlin, Denver, everyone, you, too.
Tell your cousin, come on.
I’m tired of your orders and your fucking speeches.
Shall I tell you what side of the scales weighs mores, shall I tell you?
Wait, Denver, calm down.
I’ll tell you, don’t move.
-Careful. -No, listen to me.
You know what weighs more?
Life, surely, Denver.
Yes, it does. So this once, gentlemen,
let’s put the guns down,
because there are certain times...
when life is a miracle
that it’s good celebrating.
What are you doing?
-For fuck’s sake, is she alive? -She’s alive, Tokyo.
Look at her, Denver.
Like those flowers that grow in the cracked pavement.
That’s it.
-That’s it, yes. -That’s it.
That’s it.
Berlin, I’m sorry to interrupt you, but you have to come up,
the Professor is on the phone.
-"Are you there?" -Where were you?
"Let’s say in a sort of..."
spiritual trip.
And I have returned as a new man.
I’m glad.
Because there’s something important you need to know.
I put the button
"of your jacket in the Seat Ibiza.
You killed a hostage, you stepped over the red line,
so this is your punishment."
It hurts to hear that, it hurts terribly.
And, honestly, I believe it’s a very unfair measure.
You see, I want you to listen to something.
What’s your name?
My name is Mónica Gaztambide.
-"And how are you? -Fine."
-And you’re alive. -I’m alive.
And she’s very pretty. Thank you.
"Do you understand now why I think you are unfair?
You punish me for something that still hasn’t happened."
I admire your cynicism.
"But I understand that if that woman is still alive, it's not thanks to you."
Unfortunately there’s no turning back.
"The good news for everyone is that thanks"
to that happy outcome we can proceed to plan Valencia.
Gentlemen, plan Valencia is in action.
Now.
Fire!
What’s that?
Burst from an M-16.
Several guns firing all at once.
Turn up the reception, There’s people screaming.
And... scream! Louder! With pain! With passion!
Louder!
I spoke to the scientific lab and ballistics.
I sent out the recordings and they say they have
-at least three M-16. -How many bullets?
150 approximately, five or six magazines.
It’s a massacre.
It’s not an execution, it’s an affray. Put me through the Fábrica.
"What the fuck is happening in there, what have you done?"
-Aren’t you going to say good evening? -"Good evening?
After you leaked our conversations to the media,
after you left me in a really bad position before the public opinion
and after hearing that shooting inside there.
-What sort of insane person are you?" -Inspector, the truth is...
I don’t recognize you. You’re an intelligent woman.
We have carried out this negotiation with mutual respect,
both professionally and personally.
I’d dare to say that even with some affection from my side.
So I’ll hang the phone up and we’ll start again.
"What the...?"
Phone.
Good evening, Professor.
Good evening.
"You see... I was here..."
thinking about things and...
all of the sudden it crossed my mind:
what kind of music will this man
"listen to when he has a shower in the morning?"
Well, it’ll sound strange to you, but...
what give the most energy...
is a Greek Syrtaki dance.
"I don’t know, it makes me be in a good mood."
How curious, isn’t it? Are you of Greek ancestry?
No, no, the truth is I’m not.
But I don’t know, I love the films Anthony Quinn is in.
"It’s lively music, actually."
Not so much as the shots we heard inside there.
"No, of course not."
Could you tell me what exactly was that?
Sure, I would be delighted to. You see, we have been testing
some guns we thought that had got wet,
but they work just fine. Thank you for asking.
You’re welcome. It’s a very plausible explanation,
but there’s another possibility.
"That all went wrong and you had"
to open fire and shoot the hostages.
Yes, that would be another possibility.
I guess it’s up to you to be more or less optimistic.
So you won’t mind If I ask you something.
"Inspector...,"
I’m truly sorry,
-but I’m a terrible dancer. -Excuse me?
"The Syrtaki... If you’re asking me to dance with you,
I’m very sorry, but it won’t be possible."
"No, it’s not that."
Look.
I want a proof of life of each hostage,
"recorded today,"
in front of a television set broadcasting live. And it’s not negotiable.
I wouldn’t dare haggle over something so delicate, inspector.
You have an hour to send them over.
-"Hello." -Prepare the proofs of life.