All language subtitles for Strike.Back.S04E05.BDRip.x264-ION10

Still playing soldiers, huh?

- Haven't you heard? The war's over.
- You're here, aren't you?

We're planning something big.

Better keep that to yourself then, huh?

Derry man obviously.

Born and bred.

Earth to earth, ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

We therefore commit the body
of Rachel Dalton to the ground

in the sure and certain hope
of resurrection to eternal life.

Targets are boarding the tram.

Package is being delivered.

You have something for us?

Here.

My Hungarian clients will be collecting
their shipment tomorrow night.

You sure put your heart and soul
into your work, Special Agent.

Don't they say,
"If you're gonna do something, do it right"?

- Yes, I think... I think they do say that.
- Okay.

This contains a video file.

You've got the connections. See they get it.

These guys like
to see their faces on the telly, all right.

- I have a new life out here. I can't...
- You will do this.

You heard the man.

When?

You will know.

Don't turn round. Keep your mouth shut.

Long time, no see, Sean.

Where the fuck did you come from?

Out of the past.

You're getting rusty, Sean.

I'm legit now. I'm a businessman.

Of course you are.

All those years running guns into Belfast,
and now you supply from Budapest.

So tell me,
who's on your Christmas card list these days?

- Al-Zuhari?
- Never heard of him.

What about Mairead McKenna?

Who?

Soon as we knew
she was headed for Budapest,

we pulled your phone records, Sean.

She rang you from Beirut two days ago.

You're playing a very dangerous game, Sean.

O'Riordan!

Hey! Bugger!

- Stay back, or I'll shoot.
- Contain!

I'm warning you!

Get the fuck away from me!

Go, go, go.

Remember, we need him alive!

Hurry!

Irish, oi, oi!

Hey, hey, hey, hey. Look, look, look.
We just want to talk.

- Back off.
- No. Hey.

- Back off!
- We just want to talk...

- Get off me, you...
- Can I have your wig?

Right here!

Get off me!

He's getting married.

- Shall we?
- Yeah. Go.

- No! No!
- There you go.

- Okay, okay!
- You want to die in a green wig?

Come on, Sean. Come on.

I said just please get me up.

You all right?

Come on, Sean.
Talk to me about McKenna.

I only dealt with her crew.

And what did they want?

Same thing they always want,
weapons and explosives.

- Mmm-hmm. More, more.
- That's your lot.

- Back over.
- No, no!

- There you go, buddy.
- You like that?

I pointed them at an arms shipment

coming into the switching yard
tomorrow night in Pest.

McKenna's going to ambush it.

Why the fuck did McKenna kill Rachel Dalton?

Who the fuck is Rachel Dalton?

- Where can we find McKenna?
- She'll be there tomorrow night.

- Yeah.
- Up you get.

Now you wouldn't lie to me, would you, Sean?

I have grandchildren.
I swear to God it's the honest truth.

- Search him.
- Yes, sir.

Get your fucking hands off of me!

Calm down, calm down. Let's go for a walk.

Let's take a walk, big fella.

Jolly Green Giant, huh?

How you doing, folks?

- Boss!
- Ah, don't be silly, Sean.

Stupid fucker.

I'm out.

Shit.

You're not gonna chicken out on me
with those diamonds, are you?

I don't know.

Come on, Mikey. They're bad guy diamonds.

You hand them in, and our guys are gonna
give them back to the Lebanese authorities,

who are probably
gonna give them back to Hezbollah.

They're just gonna buy more guns
and kill more of our guys.

- Well...
- So we're just breaking the cycle.

- We're just doing everyone a favor, aren't we?
- Exactly.

- It's a messed up world.
- It certainly is.

Yeah. Speaking of which,

saw you and Martinez out there
having a little smoochy smooch.

Just maintaining my cover, mate.

- Really? Doing a very good job.
- Yeah.

Oh. Well, cheers.

Glad to see you're finally getting some action.

- Identification, gentlemen.
- Uh, hang on. We're with...

Sergeants Scott and Stonebridge?

Her.

Stop, please.

And you are?

- Out of your league.
- Ha!

Natalie Fisher.

We've set up your facility
in the embassy ballroom.

- Follow me.
- Thank you.

Two of yours, I believe.

- Hey.
- How was it?

Bleak. The IRA give their dead
a better sendoff.

Yeah, I still think we should have been there.

Sadly, we don't get to choose
where we're sent.

- She had a son.
- No shit.

- Did you know?
- No. Not until after.

We'll do what we can for the boy.

What, because the army won't, right?

They're not the first family
to pay the price for what we do, Michael.

Sir.

Coming online.

Hey!

- Hey, kid.
- Hi.

- How you doing?
- Uh, not good. Nicotine gum.

That shit doesn't work. Try something else.

How's Switzerland?

Uh, it's a bit boring. There's no gun battles.

Aw. I miss you guys.

Yeah. Mom here has been crying
into her pillow every night.

Yeah, it's true.

And you?

- I miss you a little.
- A lot.

Okay.

Oh. I'll see you later.

- Bye-bye.
- See you.

- Close the door.
- Glad you could join us, Leo.

We've decrypted the media file
found on O'Riordan's body.

The attack
you have witnessed in Europe today...

Al-Zuhari.

...you have brought on your own heads.

On the anniversary of the martyrdom
of Imam Ali, Alayahis Salam,

you have tasted
what we must live with every day.

Until your governments withdraw
from all lands where you are unwanted,

we and our brothers
from oppressed nations of this earth

will rain the fire of Allah on your heads.

Fuck you, too.

Kamali, this is
for broadcast after an attack, right?

Yeah, and at most, we have 48 hours.
The holy day he refers to is on Wednesday.

So we have an IRA man with
an al-Zuhari communiqué

and an arms shipment
that's about to be ambushed.

Leo, I need you here.

It's difficult. Ester...

No. I need you here, Leo.

- I'll make arrangements.
- Thank you. I appreciate it.

All right. Listen up.

This isn't just a terrorist attack.

What we're looking at here

has been every operative's worst nightmare
for the last decade.

The old enemy
are joining hands with the new.

So we prevent McKenna
from getting hold of those weapons,

we find out what al-Zuhari's playing at,
and we stop it.

- Yo.
- There you go.

Hey! Oi!

- Hey.
- Snooze, you lose.

We should drink to that.
That's what we should drink to.

Enjoy.

Is that what we're gonna drink to?

We should drink to Dalton. She was one of us.

- God.
- Really?

You fucking kidding me?

She treated you like shit,

and God knows how many times
she nearly got all of us fucking killed.

Damien, maybe if
we had got there on time, maybe...

Oh, come on, dude.

We were always there,
we all fucking carried her.

Yeah, I know she's got a little kid,
and I'm really sorry for that little boy.

I'd be a fucking liar
if I said I wasn't glad she wasn't here. Sorry.

Next round's on me.

I'm sorry. I don't speak Hungarian.

Haven't seen you before.

First time in the city.

- Do you work here in Budapest?
- Embassy.

A diplomat.

Wow. That must be glamorous.

What exactly is it you do?

Endless receptions,

being hit on by overexcited businessmen
away from home.

- Every girl's dream, huh?
- Hmm.

Hey.

Hey.

You were right about Dalton.

Thanks.

Old girlfriend?

Yeah.

She could have got married,
changed her name.

Yeah.

Look. Leave it with me.

Things we do for our country, eh?

Whatever it takes.

You're a wee darling, aren't you?

I'm sorry.

We know al-Zuhari
is planning an imminent attack.

The arms shipment O'Riordan told us about
arrives by train tonight.

If we don't stop McKenna's crew
getting their hands on those weapons,

we lose the only lead we have
of the al-Zuhari attack,

so Colombia, Beirut,
will all have been for nothing.

Guys, I need you on that train
before it reaches Budapest.

Martinez, you'll be waiting for them
at the switching yard, okay?

Mmm-hmm.

Bring me back McKenna alive.

There she is.

All right.

- I'm Butch, and you're Sundance.
- Hey, Sundance was faster.

Yeah, but Butch was better looking.

Yeah, but Sundance got the girl.

Good point. You can't be Sundance.

- All right. Get the last car?
- Yeah, that's us, that's us.

Yeah. No one in here.

Bravo Two, are you in position?

That's two hobos
on board and on the way.

Roger. Sat coming online now.

Oi. Do you think
Butch and Sundance die at the end?

No, dude. They lived.

Ha. Just two men
against the entire Bolivian army?

Been there and done that, huh?

Well, I think they probably lived.

They never found the bodies.

So those two just disappeared
with all that loot.

Yeah.

You know, sometimes,
you got to know when you got to go.

Huh.

All right. Let's get the diamonds valued,
but just out of curiosity, that's all.

God knows, we fall on our faces,
nobody's gonna pick us up.

That much is clear.

In position. Over.

Roger. Any activity? Over.

Negative. Out.

Hungarians are making the pickup.

- Mikey, I'm moving.
- Good luck.

They've got some heavy-duty shit here.

There's no sign of the Irish guys.

Hold up. I got a sniper at my 12

up on that bridge.

- Good position for the ambush, huh?
- X-ray confirmed.

- Oh, fuck.
- Put your fucking hands up.

Down on your knees.

Motherfucker.

Here's the fightin' Irish.

Shit. They've finished off the Hungarians.

Come on!
Cops will be all over this place soon!

I got a clear shot at our primary target.

Put this barrel in the lorry.
Where the fuck's Liam?

Two of her crew are Middle Eastern.

Wait here. Move those guns now! Quickly!

Target's on the move.

If you can, take her alive, Bravo Two.

Copy that.

Come on the fuck, lads!
It's not a fucking holiday!

- Come on. Let's go!
- Let's shift this. Move it!

Come on. Let's go.

Shit! Liam!

Who the fuck's firing?

Get down!

Come on.

Go!

Target acquired.

Get the fuck up and take off now!

Move it! Get out of here!

Into the truck, into the truck!

Boss, they're on the move.

The weapons are on the truck.

Do not let them get away with those weapons.

Are you fucking kidding me?

Go, Mikey!

Take the shot.

Come on.

Take the shot.

Fuck.

Shit.

Shit.

Any news on the arms truck?

Nothing yet.
Local police have been alerted, and GCHQ...

We all miss sometimes, Mikey.

- Happens to the best of us.
- Yeah? Well, I had it.

Don't be too hard on yourself, dude.
It was dark, it was a moving target.

I said I fucking had it, Scott.

So you just felt like getting a checkup, huh?

Yes. Yeah.

You must be the first man in history
to voluntarily visit a doctor.

It's just been a while, that's all.

Routine blood sample.

Results will be passed to your CO
in a couple of days.

Something bothering you, Sergeant?

No. No, nothing.

Anxiety, mood swings?

No, no, not that I can think of.

I used to be Territorial Army, two tours, Iraq.

My number. Anytime you want to talk.

Go on.

Back in the day, the IRA used to
concentrate their minds on an invisible flame

to resist interrogation.

You mean torture.

It wasn't the Yanks
who invented waterboarding.

You were using it on us 40 years ago.

"Us"? That's interesting.

You're not IRA, Mairead.

If you were, you would know the war's over.

The IRA,

what they settled for
we could have had 10 years before I was born.

Hmm. So what are you?

Oh, don't tell me. You're the Real IRA, hmm?

Do you really think people believe that?

- You serve there?
- Six tours.

Armagh, mid '80s?

You'd have met my brother there.

Or maybe not. You're still alive.

What were you doing in Beirut, hmm?

You teaming up
with some like-minded jihadists?

You gonna bring Sharia law
to the six counties

and turn the North
into some Muslim Caliphate?

- Better the Muslims than the British.
- Oh, you don't really believe that.

Where are your boys?

Where's the truck?

When is this attack going to take place?

It was the fucking Brits took Mairead.
Could smell the bastards.

- He's dying.
- So he needs a fucking priest!

The attack must go ahead.

We'll get her out.
Got connections in the consulate.

Father.

- He needs the last rites, Father.
- There's no time for this.

Show some fucking respect!

We have a problem here.

You have to clean up your mess.

So tell me, Mairead,
why did you kill Major Dalton?

The girl in Beirut?

Bitch was in the wrong place
at the wrong time,

casualty of war.

And Sophia Abboud, al-Zuhari's wife?

She could have compromised our operation.

What can you possibly
get out of working with these people?

I get to see the look on your face

when you realize every fucker
you ever trod on for the past 1,000 years

has clubbed together
and is coming back to get you.

Come on. Tell me about the target.

I can keep a secret.

Ask your brother.

- My brother's dead.
- I know.

He was picked up outside the Rock Bar
on the Falls Road by a loyalist hit squad.

You've done your research.
What you want, a gold star?

I was there.

Oh, I knew your brother, Mairead.
It was my job to.

But you knew him personally,
you ran across him?

I ran him.

- What?
- You heard.

Your brother was a tout.

You dirty Brit bastard.

My brother was worth 10 of you.

He had you lot running scared, the great SAS.

Everything you are,
you are because of your brother,

and everything you know about him was a lie.

You're the liar.

Sir.

Think about that.

Local police just got a call from
a church in District 5.

One of their priests has been kidnapped

as he gave the last rites
to a man dying of a gunshot wound.

Seems he was brought in
by an Arab and an Irishman.

Okay, check it out.

Yeah. Roger that.

- But give the Hungarians operational control.
- Will do.

The Irish Consulate
has been on to the ambassador.

Get Natalie in here, will you?

She didn't come in today, sir.

- Hey, Sergeant.
- Yeah?

Want to grab dinner sometime?

Nothing too serious,
just some good food, fine wine,

and hot butt-naked sex.

You really think
now's the time to talk about that?

Well, given that
we could be dead in 60 seconds,

I'd say there's no time like the present.

Go, go, go! Go, go, go! Go!

You all right?

Mikey!

Yeah. We're all right. You okay?

What the fuck was that?

Oh, yeah, Francie had us running to the bank.

50 grand a year we pumped into
his account, plus expenses.

Still, it was money well spent.

No strings attached?

- As long as we can go Dutch.
- Yeah. Yeah, we can.

Shit.

Sneaky Irish bastards.

- Yeah.
- Huh?

- Pricks.
- Yeah, dude.

We got to get out of this game, Mikey.

If it's not the IRA, it's just gonna be
some other fucker that gets us.

Dude, that was way too close,
way too fucking close.

- Yeah.
- Fuck!

Yes, it was.

This is bullshit.

Kid with a Mac
could fake this shit up in 10 minutes.

Yeah? Okay.

Try this.

Hey, Francie.

Just a little present
from Her Majesty's Government.

Two soldiers still walking the streets
because of you, Francie.

Thank you. Now you have something for me?

- An attack.
- Mmm-hmm.

Tonight. Police station in Cushendall.

Details are in there.

Francie, good man.

What are you doing?

The crew you're running only defer to you
because of who your brother was,

who they think he was.

Same reason
the actual IRA hasn't wiped you out.

You're Francie McKenna's wee sister.

You're untouchable.

Let's see how well that holds when I post this
on a Republican news website, shall we?

Better a child molester
than an informer, eh, Mairead?

The attack, when is it,

where is it?

Last chance, Mairead.

Colonel Locke?

A word.

Would that be the Philip Locke?

Please.

The ambassador's about
to bring a shit storm down on your head.

The Irish Consulate know
that we're holding McKenna.

They're threatening to take it to Number 10,

claim we're using the embassy as a black site
for illegal renditions.

She's assured them
you're going to take McKenna to London now.

Are you serious?

An attack is about to take place,
and she is the only lead we have.

She has to go, Philip, and it has to be official.

This is bullshit. An imminent attack,

and we can't question
the terrorist who's planning it

because we're in the wrong fucking country?

Perhaps if your CIA hadn't set up
its own global network of torture franchises,

we wouldn't be in this situation now.

As soon as the wheels go up
on that plane, I need you lot back here.

- Got it, boss.
- Sir.

How's your son, Philip? Be what now, 20, 25?

You mention my son again,
and I will kill you where you stand.

Have you got that?

Boss.

Get her in the car.

You ride with her.

What, was it something I said?

Get in.

All this for me.

Scare you boys, do I?

Don't normally think
of rain when you think of Beirut,

but I bet you do now.

She begged me for her life.
What was her name? Dalton?

Like all of you boys,
she was better dishing it out than taking it.

Okay. You know the score.

Diplomatic protocols apply.
Guns in lock boxes, the whole nine yards.

Yeah. We'll be sitting ducks.

I need to use the bathroom.

Nice try, sweetheart.
You can do it on the plane.

I'm taking a prisoner back to the UK.
These people are seeing me on the plane.

The paperwork's all here,
and our jet's on the runway over there.

I need to see everyone's passports.

Thanks, Dad.

There's no record of your arrival.

It was a diplomatic flight from Beirut.

She has a passport?

- Oh, for God's sake.
- One minute, please.

Fucking joking, right?

Look. This woman is a wanted terrorist
who's being extradited to the UK.

It's been cleared. You need to read that.

I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you
to wait here, gentlemen.

Get me on that plane,
or let me use the bathroom.

- Shut the fuck up.
- Time of the month.

For God's sake, you're women.

Just take her.

Let's go.

I'm gonna need these off.

How am I supposed to go?

You'll figure it out.

It's all yours.

- Okay. Everything seems in order.
- About fucking time.

- Let's go.
- Cheers.

- Your guns, please.
- I haven't got one.

Ah, just fucking with you.

- Here. Don't lose it.
- Step this way, sir.

Hold on.

Hurry up.

Right there.

- Step this way.
- Ha!

- You find his metal dildo?
- Yeah. Thanks, mate.

- Where are those fucking girls?
- You can go through.

Move, move, move!

Come here, big guy.

On the balcony, Mikey!

Drop the gun. Do it.

I'm moving!

Go, Mike!

Now!

Thank you.

Colonel!

Stay there. Stay right there. Don't move!

Shit.

Take the shot, Michael.

Mikey, take that shot!

Take it.

Don't even think about it, you fucker.
You're mine!

Fuck!

Fuck.

What the fuck, Mairead? What are you doing?
Move it! Go! Now.

Fuck!

Fucking move!

Julia.

Fuck.

Give me a fucking grenade!

Fuck!