All language subtitles for The.Interpreter.2005

She wouldn't tell me
her husband's name.

She wouldn't even write it.

She knows not to speak
the names of the dead.

Zuwanie's murdered half the town.

How could it get any worse?

With Zuwanie, he could
murder the other half.

No.

Just us, they said.

Xola's right, Philippe.

You've done well my friend.
But just us.

I'll do the talking.

[Native African dialect - Ku]

They're Ku.

It's OK. It's OK.

The Teacher says good day to you.

The United Nations was born in
a hope that survived world war...

We must not allow the peace
of the world to be jeopardized.

Not only is this a negation
of democracy and its principles,

it constitutes interference in the
internal affairs of sovereign states.

We are presently in the throes
of a great transition

in humankind's affairs.

Modern technology is
altering our world

in ways that would have been
impossible to fathom

when the United Nations
Charter was signed.

- Could you take your jacket off?
- Go ahead.

- Next.
- Ma'am?

What?

- Put it in the drawer, please.
- Step forward, please.

- Step through.
- Oh, man.

Peace, security and freedom

are not finite commodities
like land, oil or gold,

which one state can acquire
at another's expense.

Get the GA President into
the safe room. Inform him.

Clear out the tourists, get the
Prime Minister on his way out.

While globalization has benefited
portions of the world...

While there are now
191 nations represented,

140 more than there were in 1945,

you'll only have to learn
to say "peace" in the

six languages of the General Assembly.

- Do we get a pin?
- Folks, you need to follow me.

Ladies and gentlemen, we need
to take a 15-minute recess now.

We will advise you further
at the end of that time.

We can't use the stairs.

- I know a short-cut.
- What, did you design the building?

- I still get lost every other day.
- Silvia?

I'll be right back.

- What is that?
- Come on, Roland, it's my flutes.

I have a lesson.
Don't make me drag it around.

I let you do this, I'll get
coats and hats and yogi mats...

I had a beauty.
"Pie in the sky".

- Isn't it like "castles in Spain"?
- Exactly. Les chateaux en Espagne.

Stay away from both doors.
We'll unlock when it's all clear, sir.

Delegates' entrance clear.

Delegates' lounge clear.

Visitors' lobby clear.

Protectee is back in America.

Want to wait this out at Oz?
We can grab a sandwich.

I've got to get back in
to get my stuff later.

Merde, how long is this
going to take?

[Conversation in Ku]

Hey, you got the Kellers. We're out
having a good time, so leave a message.

Hey, you got the Kellers. We're out
having a good time, so leave a message.

Silvia? Rudy thought he had
a flute lesson tonight.

Will you call me when you get in?

- You know, they make new ones now.
- Yeah, I know.

Portuguese.

Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen,

the situation in Matobo
has now become critical.

With Ajene Xola in hiding
and Kuman-Kuman in exile,

Edmond Zuwanie has few domestic obstacles

to his policy of ethnic cleansing.

The Security Council therefore must
press for his immediate referral

to the International Criminal
Court in The Hague.

Miss Broome.

I'm Jonathan Williams, Ambassador Harris's
adviser. We need you for a few minutes.

- Which language?
- The Matoban ambassador. He'll speak Ku.

- Ku?
- You speak the language, don't you?

Let's be clear, Mr. Ambassador.

The United States may not recognize
the ICC as a legitimate court,

but we do not condone the methods
President Zuwanie uses against his people.

Dr Zuwanie is an educator.

He is... our teacher.

But his opponents engage
in ever more ferocious acts.

The partisans of both Kuman-Kuman
and Ajene Xola have become...

terrorists.

The French proposal is a
diplomatic headache for both of us.

- What a predicament.
- It doesn't have to be.

Dr Zuwanie wouldn't have to appear
before the International Criminal Court.

Not if he were somewhere else.

- Do you want him to resign?
- Tell him this.

If he goes voluntarily, we're confident
the French proposal will be vetoed.

You can tell him yourself.

He will be here next Friday,

exercising his right to speak
before the General Assembly,

where he will announce a new
programme of democratic reform.

Perhaps then there will be no vote
and your predicament will disappear.

It will end here.

The Teacher will never
leave this room alive.

That's it. 'The Teacher will
never leave this room alive.'

Word for word.

- And what language did you say?
- Ku.

It's a tribal dialect of Matoban, spoken
throughout the south central African belt.

- Did you see anyone?
- No, but I think that they saw me.

Why didn't you report this last night?

It didn't mean anything to me at the time.

- Rather, I didn't know what it meant.
- But now you do.

I heard something today.

I don't know if I'm permitted.

- It was in a closed...
- You are.

In fact, you're obligated, as you
were last night when you didn't.

I think they were talking
about Edmond Zuwanie.

He's planning to come here
to address the GA.

Can you see her?

Turn on the light.

Call the Secret Service.

Bet you really miss this.
Welcome back.

Ma'am? Excuse me. Please
don't touch the Prime Minister.

I need you to step back, please.

Woods.

The first of the demonstrators.

They're here to protest the appearance
later this week by Edmond Zuwanie.

Not just his political future
but any future for him

hinges on that speech
to the General Assembly.

Dr Zuwanie is accused of genocide,

but he's expected to argue that his actions
were a defensive response to terrorism

and not acts of aggression, as some
Security Council members have charged.

- Secret Service.
- Just a moment, please.

We're with Foreign Dignitary Protection.

- It's a branch of the US government.
- Dot.

This is international territory.
I need you to wait for an escort.

Zuwanie lands at 8.45 hours.

State Department says no meet-
and-greet, no shopping, no Lion King.

He leaves your podium,
his plane has two hours to clear US airspace,

unless the UN cancels the visit

and Tobin and I can get back
to the important work we were doing.

That's up to the GA President.
We just present a threat assessment.

- Why is he coming?
- To make a speech.

To escape the International
Criminal Court.

Security Council was debating whether
to bring charges of ethnic cleansing,

so he'll come, talk about
free elections and reform

and pray that that appeases everyone.

So the stakes are high.
He's not going to cancel.

Tell me about the interpreter.

Born here, but lived mostly
in Africa and Europe.

She studied music in Johannesburg

and linguistics at the Sorbonne
and various countries in Europe.

Parents?

British mother, white African father.
Moved here five years ago.

Interview couldn't have taken long.
She's just what they want.

- She is the UN.
- Can she cook?

What else do we know?
Since the initial clearance.

Is she married?

Does she have a child?
Does she belong to any clubs?

Is she registered to vote?

Democrat? Republican?

What religion is she?

Who is she?

Silvia.

Secret Service
Dignitary Protection Squad.

We're responsible for
visiting heads of state.

I don't recall seeing you around.

They hire us for our forgettable faces.

Is she on guard?

Yes, ma'am.

Ma'am. Why is it you guys who carry
guns always sound like cowboys?

I don't concentrate on faces in my job.

But you listen to voices.

Do you think you could identify the
voice you heard if you heard it again?

Well, I'd say yes, if it were...
It was almost a whisper.

Whispers disguise
the quality of a voice.

You, I imagine, study faces.

- You know, I'm not really a dignitary.
- I know.

How'd you happen to be
up there after hours?

We had an evacuation.

I'd left some things in the sound
booth I had to go back for them.

And at that moment there
happened to be a couple of fellas

talking about an assassination
in a language that you and...

maybe eight other people understand,
in a room... full of microphones.

Do you think I'm making it up?

Why would I report
a threat, I didn't hear?

- People do.
- I don't.

- Some people like attention.
- I don't.

Maybe you don't want
Zuwanie to live here.

I didn't make it up.

How do you feel about him?

I don't care for him.

Wouldn't mind if he were dead?

I wouldn't mind if he were gone.

- Same thing.
- No, it isn't.

If I interpreted gone as dead,
I'd be out of a job.

If dead and gone were the
same thing, there'd be no UN.

Your profession is playing
with words, Ms Broome.

I don't play with words.

- You're doing it right now.
- No, you are.

If I wanted him dead,
I wouldn't have reported it.

I would sit back and let it happen.
It's not what I want.

- That's not why I'm here.
- Here?

Here working at the UN, instead of standing
on a road somewhere with a machine-gun.

Because you believe in diplomacy?

Because I believe in this place.
I believe in what it tries to accomplish.

Well..

You've had a tough year, lady.

Listen.

I'm scared, and my protector is
someone who doesn't believe me.

You don't look scared.

People handle fear in
different ways, Mr. Keller.

It turns some people
into stand-up comedians.

You don't know me at all.

Maybe I should talk
to someone else about

assigning someone to look after me
who's better suited to the job.

My job... is not to look after you,

it's to look after the man who's been
threatened if there... was a threat.

My job, as it concerns you,
is to investigate you.

So you're not here to offer me
any protection whatsoever?

No, ma'am.

And we were getting along so well.

- So what do you think?
- She's a liar.

Agent Keller? Morning.

Special Agent Lewis, FBI.
This is Agent King.

We're on loan.

Which means they have to be
returned in the same condition,

or we don't get our money back.

- Keller.
- Woods.

- Are you sure you're ready to come back?
- I'm better working.

- We got a credible threat?
- We should assume so.

As popular as we are in the
rest of the world these days,

the last thing we can afford
is to have some foreign leader

get popped on our soil,

and particularly a guy like
this that we don't like.

So State wants you to know:
NSA, CIA, FBI,

whatever you need to keep
this maniac's heart beating

till he makes his speech and
gets the hell out... it's yours.

Woods.

Zuwanie's head of security's arrived.
He wants a meeting right away.

This guy's gonna have to wait a couple
hours till we get back from Washington.

Guess what, he's white.
Evidently he was a Dutch mercenary.

He's still gonna have to wait.

It's hard to remember that Edmond
Zuwanie was once a good man.

That's not unusual for these guys.

They all begin as liberators

and 20 minutes later, they're as
corrupt as the tyrants they'd overthrown.

He liberated the country from one of
the most corrupt governments on earth,

gave the people hope,
and was a hero.

They need another name
for what he is now.

Man likes his gun.

And he'll have it
with him at the UN.

He knows they won't be putting
him through a metal detector.

Who are his enemies?

Aside from the thousands
of victims' relatives?

These two.

Both his opponents,
both want his job.

On the right, Ajene Xola.

Son of a doctor, Paris-educated,
pacifist to begin with.

Aren't they all?

Yeah well he managed
longer than most.

And the other?

The other one has two names,
he's constantly in the Post.

One name, twice.
Kuman-Kuman.

He's been yelling about
Zuwanie being a madman and

the UN not doing enough about it.

Now he's in exile in Brooklyn.

A socialist and a capitalist,

both gaining significant
strength with the people,

both with the motivation
to see Zuwanie gone.

- Gone?
- Dead.

But not just dead.

Dead in front of the
delegates of 191 countries

and every news service with a camera.

Dead in front of the world.

Nobody needs to be that dead.

In my opinion, we're wasting
tax dollars staying late.

It's a con.

This is the interpreter?

I need everything CIA has on her.

Vous voulez le Figaro,
vous savez quoi faire.

Philippe, c'est le seul num�ro que j'aie.

C'est Silvia.
Il faut que je te parle.

Tu es toujours NF � l'�tranger?

Tu peux m'appeler?

J'ai quelque chose � te demander.

Non, ne m'appelle pas.
J'essaierai de t'appeler.

So what do we make
of this interpreter?

Is she making it up?
Is she imagining things?

I'm looking for Mr. Lud.

Is she pretty?

I brought you a copy of her UN file.

Dr Zuwanie is not gonna
cancel his speech, you know.

That's up to the GA President,
but you might want to think about it.

- Ms Broome has a Matoban passport.
- Excuse me?

She was born here, she was raised
there, so she has dual citizenship.

Are you serious?

Black or white?

No, thank you.

- Is she black or white?
- White.

- Did you give her a polygraph test?
- Not yet, no.

Well, shouldn't you?

Hi, Ma.

Back off, you're too close.
Way too close.

What are you, on a date?

Hey, you got the Kellers.

We're out having a good time,
so leave a message.

Hey, you there?

Maybe I made a mistake.

You there?

Shit.

I told him I want to come back and...

He's gonna drop me off at the
airport now, and I was wondering...

Anyway, you don't have to meet me.

Unless you want to.

I hope you haven't changed the locks.

If I were Roy Rogers
I'd sure enough be single...

It'd just be me and Trigger
We'd go riding through them movies

They're ready for you.

I'll be right there.

- I'll be right there.
- OK.

Ms Broome.

- Can I get you anything?
- How about a hood?

- I want to split that.
- When do I know the results?

Right away. You know when
you're lying, don't you?

Look straight ahead,
feet flat on the floor.

Is your name Silvia Broome?

Miss Broome?

I found out something
from our domestic Intel.

All this may have begun
with a tragic accident.

What do you mean?

Her parents had a farm
in the local mountains.

This area became infested
with rebels in the '80s

and Dr Zuwanie was
forced to mine the roads.

Her parents were bringing her
younger sister back home from school

Their rover hit a mine.

- And they were killed?
- All of them.

- How old was she?
- 12, 13.

Something like that, even years later,
could incite all kinds of ideas.

She has every reason to want
Dr Zuwanie tried at the ICC.

I'll be right back.

- Oh, no. Come on.
- OK, the control questions show stress,

and the key questions show stress
as well as the baseline questions.

Maybe we should just read her palm.

- How did I do?
- Je ne sais pas.

Nils Lud.
Dr Zuwanie's head of security.

I thought since you were in a
question-answering mood,

I might ask one or two.

Might I ask where you stand
now politically, Miss Broome?

I'm for peace and quiet, Mr. Lud.
It's why I came to the UN.

Quiet diplomacy.

With respect, you only interpret.

Countries have gone to war because
they misinterpreted one another.

I would say she's clearly under
stress, but not necessarily lying.

Congratulations.

I'm told what you heard
was a whisper.

Yes.

Is it possible that
you could identify it

if you ever heard it again?

It might be.

Tell me, do you have a brother?

I hope it's all right

I took this opportunity to ask
Miss Broome a few questions.

You're free to go. Agent Scott
will drive you back to the UN.

Would you drive Ms Broome back
to the UN, please? Thank you.

- Does this mean the test was...?
- The test was inconclusive.

But I'd rather make the
mistake of believing her

than the bigger one of not.

The next time you wanna question
an American citizen in the offices

of the United States secret
service, you ask permission.

Hey Silvia.

Oh don't worry, I'm not leaving any...

Did you do something naughty?

A couple of FBIs were
asking me about you.

If you often work
later than everybody.

Did you bring things in
after hours? Like that.

What'd you tell them?

I said... from a... sound
engineer's point of view...

You're perfect.

I need somebody on
the guy with two names.

Mo.

Actually it's one name twice.
Kuman-Kuman.

You volunteering,
or just correcting me?

I'm from Brooklyn.

You got him.
You and...?

I was on him when he first
came here from Matobo.

OK, you got him again.
You and Mo.

I thought she was supposed to have
perfect pitch and all that shit.

She says whispers don't
have a recognizable pitch.

NSA agrees.
They say it's very difficult.

- They don't know that.
- They say they do.

No, no, no. Not NSA.
Whoever she heard.

So why don't you let them keep
thinking that she can ID it?

What are you asking me to do, Jay?

Hey. I don't want any
harm to come to her.

Matter of fact, you oughta get a place
where you can keep an eye on her but

we got three days and she's the
only link you got to these guys.

Are we using her as bait?

Just make the calls.

I'm sending you an email with an attachment.
Can you print front and back?

Listen. I've asked INS for a list of
everyone coming in the last six months.

Zimbabwe, Botswana, Matobo.
I'm gonna do voice samples on everyone.

So when she hears the voice again,
she'll identify it.

- She said it was a whisper.
- Well, now she thinks she can do it.

- Photo there yet?
- It's printing. Let me put you on speaker.

That's an anti-Zuwanie rally.
The man speaking is Ajene Xola.

Look at the crowd.

Look closely.

Any leads?

Maybe one.

Come on down to Mexico.

Is that you?

Can you tell me what somebody like you

who uses the word "diplomacy"
like she's chastising me

is doing at a rebel rally?

- A peace rally.
- I don't want to do this again.

It's exactly what it is.
What I'm doing is listening.

After that.
After you listen.

You're asking the wrong question.

I'm asking the question that
you don't want to answer.

Why would somebody take a picture

and type the names of
everyone in it on the back?

This is a death list.

The question you should be asking is,
'Who gave me this and why?'

What are you not telling me?

What are you accusing me of?

How do you feel about Zuwanie,
never mind 'I don't care for him'?

I feel disappointment.

That's a lover's word.

What about rage?

Of all the people that I've looked
into since this thing started,

the one with the darkest
Zuwanie history... is you.

- It was his land-mines that
killed y... - Shhhh !

We don't name the dead.

Everyone who loses somebody
wants revenge on someone,

on God if they can't
find anyone else.

But in Africa,

in Matobo, the Ku believe
that the only way...

to end grief is to save a life.

If someone is murdered,

a year of mourning ends with a ritual
that we call the Drowning Man Trial.

There's an all-night party
beside a river.

At dawn, the killer is put in a boat.

He's taken out on the water
and he's dropped.

He's bound so that he can't swim.

The family of the dead then
has to make a choice.

or they can swim out and save him.

The Ku believe that if the family
lets the killer drown,

they'll have justice but spend
the rest of their lives in mourning.

But if they save him, if they
admit that life isn't always just...

that very act can take
away their sorrow.

Vengeance is a lazy form of grief.

Why do you look away?

There are some things I don't like
to talk about and you call it lying.

But not when you do it.

I'm not the one under investigation.

That was a long time ago.

- FBI.
- Intel.

- TTF.
- Sniper team.

Secret Service.

This is Nils Lud,
head of Dr Zuwanie's security.

Shall we take a walk?

How close can a vehicle
get over here on a saturday?

Not close enough of the barriers.

No garage under the GA.

Dog sweep every night.
It's not a bomb.

Has to be a rifle.

From where?

How does he get a rifle in here?

Could be from up close.

Who gets that close?

One of Zuwanie's bodyguards?

It's a good thought, but...

we'd much prefer to kill him
back home alone than here

with all of you gentlemen watching.

It's already here.

If these guys know what they're
doing, the weapon is already here.

Hello?

Hello, Philippe? Hello?

No prints on the door and
negative for latex dust.

- Nothing on the door?
- No.

- No forced entry.
- Did Doug not see him?

No, he missed it. Some lady crossed
the street, called 911, saw the guy.

Hey. Go easy on him, okay?
He feels terrible.

On the roof. He must have gone over
the roof to get to the next building.

I couldn't see the fire escape,
it's on the other side.

Give me that.

You mean you screwed up.

I mean I screwed up.

So did I.

I need Polaroids of that,
inside and out.

- You okay?
- Great.

- Who else has a key to
this apartment? - No one.

- You don't keep a spare
outside somewhere? - No.

- No one else has a key...
- Nobody.

- The door wasn't forced.
- They can't pick locks?

They can. We can tell.
They didn't.

- Where do you keep your key?
- In my purse.

That purse hasn't been out
of your sight all day?

No.

Yes.

In my locker.

Dot. Wake up Rory,

have him dust her locker and
those beside it before morning.

So you were just having a quiet evening,

some gentleman in a mask
waves to you from your fire escape.

That's about it, yeah.

Dot?

Is there anything special
about this mask?

I'll be honest with you...

I don't know how honest
I can be with you.

My brother gave it to me.

I still have a brother there
who I'm close to. Simon.

We've... lost touch for a while,
but... we're close.

Is he standing on the road somewhere with
a machine-gun, or is he into diplomacy too?

He's more into lists.

Farm kids will do anything to
amuse themselves. Mostly you fight.

I read. My brother kept lists.

Weird lists in ratty notebooks.

Times and dates that
Mum used the F-word.

Countries with advantageous
male to female ratios.

Odd animal facts.

Did you know the leading cause of
death for beavers is falling trees?

- Yes.
- You did not.

He had a notebook for words that he liked.

Hypotenuse, doodad, bodacious.

Could he be involved in this?

We're stuck, aren't we, you and I?

We're kep�la.

It means standing on
opposite sides of the river.

You got to give me a reason
to get to the other side.

Just wait a second.

OK.

There's a blue and white outside.
NYPD'll keep an eye on you until morning.

And then?

We'll figure something out.

Thank you.

My wife was killed two weeks ago.

She... she'd left me.

She'd left me before,
but she'd always come back.

She was going to come back this time.

She said.

She was a dancer.

The guy was a dancer, too.

Eddie.

Great dancer.

Lousy driver.

The only way he knew
how to stop a car

was to slam it into a bridge
abutment in Santa Fe.

So there was no taking
her back this time.

The thing is, if he had lived,
and I had a choice...

I think I would have let him drown.

I might have even held
his head under the water.

Not a very Ku thing to do.

If you need anything, you can call
the precinct or just go downstairs.

This is my cell number.

It's the same card.

Goodnight.

Lock this.

It's a remodel. Owner's in the middle
of a divorce. We got lucky.

We got a clear view.
Front door's just 50 seconds away.

- I'll take the first shift.
- Who's babysitting Kuman? Lewis and Clark?

Lewis and King.
He'll be in bed in an hour.

FBI's right. Guy does
the same routine every day.

Somebody call me if she gets
another trick-or-treater. I'm off.

Sweet dreams, partner.

the belief that the individual
needs of people

are paramount to its purpose,
and with it goes the assumption

that human rights are fundamental
to human prosperity and development.

They cannot be separated.
They can only be said to exist...

You got one shot. You sever the brain stem,
creating paralysis,

you drop the perpetrator without reflex action.
He can't activate a detonator. Thank you.

If you have to issue a verbal warning,
you get very close before you do so.

No. There won't be time for a second one.

Whatever the weapon is,
consider this a suicide bomber.

There's no profile for a suicide bomber.

This could be nine or 90, male or female,
a PhD or a dropout.

The only thing they have in common
is they are not afraid to die.

Which means this is either
a fanatic for a cause

or someone who has
nothing to live for.

We'll run two teams. DDO calls the decoy exit
30 seconds before the intersection.

NYPD snipers from these two buildings here,
our guys sniper the bridge.

Her locker was clean.
The others were covered with prints.

Someone wiped hers. We're looking
at a janitor or a maintenance worker.

Or another interpreter.

So when do we do this voice line-up?

We're not doing that any more.

- She says she can't.
- Can't what?

ID the voice. She thought she could, now
she thinks she can't. She's sure she can't.

She can't because she can't, or because
she never heard anything to start with?

- He says he wasn't here... I think.
- Not according to this.

- He traded shifts with someone. Com quem?
- Jamal.

Jad Jamal. He's in Crown Heights.

Afternoon. Secret Service.
Need to talk to Jad Jamal.

- Does this guy live here?
- No, no here. With lady.

You got lady's number?

Does he have a cell phone?

OK, we'll be back. If he shows up before that,
have him give us a call.

- Hello?
- Silvia, c'est moi. Philippe.

Philippe.

- Going out.
- I got her.

- Shit.
- Shit.

Oh, come on.

Philippe.

- What is it?
- I've done a terrible thing.

- It is Simon.
- No, listen.

Someone contacted me.
One of Kuman's people...

I thought it was one of his people...
to arrange a meeting with Xola.

They said it was time to admit that
only together could they stop Zuwanie.

- What happened?
- So I arrange it.

But it was a trap.

Xola's dead.

I knew it.

I knew he was dead.

Was my brother there?

No, Simon wasn't there. Only Xola.

I stayed in the car. No one came back out.

- Where is he? Where's my brother?
- I don't know.

- You think Kuman has him?
- I don't know what to think.

Everything is chaos. It's all gone to hell.
How did it get to be like this?

You see what I did? I took Xola right to them.

- You didn't know.
- Forgive me.

- I was only trying to help.
- There's nothing to forgive.

Yes, there is.

- I have to go.
- Philippe.

You cannot do that. How the hell do I
protect you if I don't know where you are?

You emphatically told me that you weren't.

That was before you had a man in a mask
on your fire escape.

I've had a 24-hour shift of agents
across the street.

Who was that in the park?

- It's personal.
- We're past that. What's his name?

It's not your business.

Is he the one you e-mailed
before reporting the threat?

'Where are you?
I'm worried about you. Write me.'

'Please. I need to know you're OK'?

Worried why? Because he's involved?

Is that him, here, now, in my country,
making threats? That is my business.

You're wrong. It's got nothing to do with you.

I'll take care of you.

- I'm going to Starbucks. Want anything?
- Just what I need, another night without sleep.

I'm good. Thanks.

What's up with Common Kuman?

- Brushing his teeth.
- I gotta talk to him.

Caf� Atlantic, noon to two, then
the Nava Club for a steam and massage.

- Coffee?
- No, I'm good, thanks.

She can't sleep either. Just turned the TV on.

Probably PBS.

- Where you going?
- You're here with your bag.

I can go home and get a good night's sleep.

Unless you want me to stay.

No. Thanks.

- Thanks.
- I'll see you tomorrow.

United Nations, New York. Protests
erupted here following an announcement

that President Edmond Zuwanie
will address the General Assembly Friday.

The exiled leader Kuman-Kuman
rallied today's protesters.

He would be more convincing
if he were assassinated.

He doesn't even have to die.

An almost-assassinated leader
gets so much credibility,

he can do anything he wants...
and stick around to enjoy it.

Security is on heightened alert
in response to anonymous threats...

- Keller.
- I'm sorry.

I really didn't know
you were watching me...

or I wouldn't have just...
left like that.

- You want to tell me what happened?
- I had to meet someone.

- Philippe Broullet.
- If you knew, why did you ask?

I know his name, I know he's
a photographer for a French magazine.

- He needed to talk to me.
- Now you're watching TV, unable to sleep.

- What did he say?
- How do you know I'm...?

Are you over there?

Jesus.

He told me we lost a friend.

He lost a friend.
I... lost someone I loved once.

It was a long time ago.

You can't sleep either.

I don't know why I'm calling you.

- What do you do when you can't sleep?
- I stay awake.

You don't name the dead, you said. Why?

What... what happens?

You move past them. You leave them behind.

You can do that,
but you have to be ready to let them go.

To move on.

You've been going through hell.

Keeping busy.

You, too, I think. I don't know all of it, but...

Are you going to be there until morning?

It almost is morning.

Yeah, I'll be here.

Is it OK if I just try to fall asleep
over the phone?

That's fine.

Goodnight.

She's coming your way.

Oh, no. No scooter, please.
Come on, no scooter.

Yes. Thank you, God.

You might as well drive me.
We're going to Brooklyn.

Corner of Bergen and Nostrand.

Jad Jamal. Worked the interpreters' lounge
the day the mask showed up.

- Bring him to me.
- Can't. He didn't show up for work.

- Sit on his apartment.
- Doug's there.

Hey. Got the INS files.

- This isn't the way it's supposed to be done.
- You can let me off up here.

She's at the corner of Bergen
and Nostrand in Brooklyn.

- She's where?
- My guy's on the move.

She's here, whether I brought her or not.

- Go back. What's she doing?
- Waiting for something.

- Holy shit.
- What?

The janitor. Jad Jamal.

- That's not him.
- I know. That's his room-mate.

Jamal's room-mate just left the building.

His name is Gamba. Jean Gamba.

- Should I stay here?
- No, you stick with the room-mate.

- Are we working on a warrant?
- Lewis is.

- How are you?
- I got something for you.

OK, bless you.

Tobin?

- What's up?
- I don't know, but it don't feel good.

- What are they doing?
- Just standing there.

We're getting on the el.

- Shit.
- She just got on the bus with Kuman.

What the hell is she doing?

Did I hear home?

- Or was I wrong, then?
- No, you're right. I'm Matoban.

And a fair Matoban, in fact.

King, you stay with that bus.

Do you know who I am?

Yes.

You're a killer.
You ordered the murder of Ajene Xola.

You got a red light in that car?
Why don't you use it?

- Who told you this nonsense?
- Where's my brother?

Your brother? I don't even know who you are.

You are on the wrong bus, so to speak,
to be so reckless.

Your people arranged a meeting
through Philippe Broullet.

- You know him.
- I don't... and I didn't.

But the fact is, somebody wants you
to believe that I killed Ajene Xola.

- I don't believe you.
- But you should believe me.

- Why?
- Because I would form a coalition with Xola.

Neither of us have made
enough progress alone.

He has the working people.
I have the finances.

If he is dead, it is a loss
for all of us. Me especially.

We're getting off.

I got the back room.

Jesus.

Clear the other room.

OK.

- Closet.
- Yeah. I got the bed.

Ho! Keller?

- We got a dead body in the closet.
- Jamal?

Yeah. I'll call it in.
God, how can you see in here?

Wait. Wait.

Why the lanterns?

Well, that's just rude.

- What do you do so far away from home?
- I work. And I hope.

- Same as me, then.
- I doubt it.

You work for...?

I'm an interpreter at the UN.

So like the UN. Layers of
languages signifying nothing.

- You'd prefer more war?
- I prefer more business.

Guys, get with me here.
We got a situation.

No, boss, we got a situation.
We just got on the 133. With Mohammad.

And Silvia Broome.
And Kuman-Kuman.

- What?
- You're on the same bus?

With our subjects.

Get off the bus,
and get Silvia Broome off that bus now.

We can't do that.
We're moving.

Doug, is the room-mate carrying anything?

- Doug, is he carrying anything?
- A satchel.

- All right... where is it?
- It's in his lap. He's been carrying it all day.

- Oh, man.
- Can either of you get to him?

Not without gettin' made.

Despite all the flags on First Avenue,
there are no nations any more.

Only companies. International companies.
It's where we are. It's what we are.

I think you're wrong.

You are still young.
I'm an acquired taste.

What's your brother's name?

Simon. Simon Broome.

- OK, we're stopping.
- You got guts, coming out here.

I'll see what my people
can find out about him.

But remember, I'm not
your brother's keeper, eh?

Yeah. Thank you.

Come on, guys, talk to me.
What's going on?

We're stopped.
She's getting off.

- What's going on?
- And so is my subject.

Keep talking to me. What's going on?
Is he carrying the satchel?

OK, he's got the satchel.
But I think he made me.

That's OK, I got him.

- Kuman?
- He's staying put.

Miss Broome! Please get in the car.

Move it!

- I got Gamba.
- I'll stay with Kuman.

No. Just get off that bus.
Get everybody off that bus right now!

- Doug!
- Mohammad?

- Hey! Guy forgot his lunch.
- Oh, man.

I'm standing here on Nostrand
Avenue in Crown Heights,

at a scene that can only be described
as unconscionable carnage.

frantically helping victims
of an apparent terrorist attack.

These events are more familiar
in the cities of the Middle East.

There is no word yet. However,
there are unconfirmed reports

that Kuman-Kuman, the exiled Matoban
revolutionary, may have been on board.

- You all right?
- I'm OK.

Doug?

This is Ron Ferguson, reporting live
on Nostrand Avenue in Brooklyn,

where just after 10.30 am this morning...

We're OK, boss.

the violence has now found its way
into the heart of New York City...

- The death toll is 17, with scores injured...
- The obvious speculation about al-Qaeda...

widely seen as the probable
successor to Edmond Zuwanie...

Tunnels and bridges will
close for at least 12 hours...

alleged terrorist attack by Ajene Xola...

Zuwanie is still planning to address
the General Assembly of the UN.

What were you doing on that bus?

Thank you for bringing me home.

Hey!

I lost a man today. A kid.

- How do you know Kuman?
- I never met him before.

You think that not getting caught
in a lie is the same as the truth!

- I'm not lying. I went to him for help.
- With what?

I can't tell you.
Someone might get hurt.

'Someone might get hurt.'
There's a bus full of dead people!

'Someone might get hurt'?
Who? Someone you know?

Someone who's mixed up in all this?
You? Why did you leave Africa?

- I told you.
- No, you didn't. Why did you come here?

- Stop it.
- Goddammit!

- Stop shouting at me!
- Stop lying!

- I'm not lying!
- Stop lying!

I was just on that bus! I can't think with
all this noise. I can't! You have to stop!

That isn't me.

Don't be ridiculous.

- It isn't me.
- No, that is you.

And I know, because I drive you home,

and I look at you through the binoculars,
and everything else that I shouldn't do.

It was once.

It's not any more.

After the rallies, after my
parents and sister were killed,

then the rifles came out.

It was the only way to get anyone
to listen. Just to listen.

I killed a boy who had nothing to live for
beyond the money he'd get for killing me.

I shot him in the head
so he wouldn't shoot me.

Then I handed the rifle to my brother
and told him, 'I'm through.'

I walked away with him shouting at me,
'You're a coward.'

'Our parents are dead, Zuwanie's alive.'

My brother, who in another life
wouldn't harm a...

That was the last thing
he ever said to me.

The only contact I have is the notebooks
I send and imagine him receiving.

I know he's alive.
I know it.

But I'm not to him.

I lied to you because I was afraid.

I was afraid he might be
involved in what I heard.

I lied to everyone else so
they'd let me near the UN,

and that's the only place that I believe
has a chance to change any of this.

And I lied to you about
Ajene Xola because...

I loved him. Once.

Until the color of my skin
became a problem.

The politics of my skin.

I walked away from Africa with nothing.
No brother, no family, no lover, nothing.

Just a belief that words and
compassion are the better way.

Even if it's slower than a gun.

Where are you going?

You've got blood all over your face.

You can't say stuff like that
with blood on your face.

This is precisely why Dr. Zuwanie
must be allowed to speak.

This monstrous act of terrorism
was aimed at you...

and at the heart of the United Nations.

- I can't listen to this.
- Do not allow them to intimidate you...

or Dr. Zuwanie.

I'm not at liberty to tell you.

- Where we going?
- Bathroom.

Keller.

Get this processed and
back to me right away.

Did he leave a note?

Did you read it?

Of course you did.

Would you read it to me, please?

Dear Silvia, I came to tell you
something and then didn't.

I wanted to, but when I saw you
I couldn't find the words.

I told you I didn't know where
Simon is. That was a lie.

He was there that day.
A young boy shot him.

I couldn't tell you because I'm
a coward. Simon was braver than me.

You're braver than me.
I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry.

The second time was me.

I feel like my friends must feel
when they try to say something.

- It's all right.
- That's what I say to them.

He left this with the note.

The only thing that I wanted...

besides having her back...

was to be left alone.

My bonnie lies over the ocean

Don't cry.

- Don't cry.
- I'm not crying.

- You don't have to cry.
- I'm not.

Because I'm here,
and I won't leave. I promise.

Look at me. I'll take care of you.

We'll take care of each other.

I'll take care of you.

Promise me.

I promise.

I promise.

Xola's dead. Kuman's dead.

Who do you work for?

- Don't touch.
- Those things'll kill you.

Russell!

Hey!

- What the hell's going on?
- Close the door!

Silvia!

Silvia!

Silvia!

Keller!

Keller!

She's not here. Check the roof.

Jay?

- Dot, what have you got?
- There was something on her credit card.

His name is Jean Gamba.
He's our bomber.

- And our assassin?
- That would be good for us.

But I doubt it.

He tried to kill her.

- What happened?
- I shot him.

That's a pity.
He might have told us something.

- And Miss Broome?
- Gone.

- He killed her?
- She was gone before he got there.

- Mind if I take a look upstairs?
- Hold on. Dino?

- Yeah.
- Take Mr. Lud to the apartment. And Brian?

- Get NYPD to push their tapeline...
- Keller? Go home and get some sleep.

- I'm gonna wait for her.
- Like hell you are.

I need you awake tomorrow morning.
Woods? Get him home.

- Drive around the block.
- You heard Jay. I gotta take you home.

What if there were two guys? Three?
We just set the trap and run? Is that it?

They're not our family
and they're not our friends.

You told me that.

You lose somebody, you lose somebody.
I don't want to lose two somebodys.

One circle, then I'm taking you home.

Hello? Are you there?

I'm fine. I'm all right, but I...

I can't talk to you.

You were right. My brother...
my brother was right.

It takes too long, Tobin.
I'm going home.

Keller.

Keller, Lewis. Those numbers
scribbled on Jamal's kitchen wall.

Ray's Pizza, some sex lines,
a hardware store and a global cell phone.

Chase down the global cell.

- Keller, it's Mo.
- Go ahead, Mo.

She booked a flight online.

Check all flights to South Africa
out of JFK, LaGuardia and Newark.

And then what? If I find her.

Get her on the phone with me.

He's here.

That's him?

Second car.

Keller? Lewis. The global cell
belongs to Jean Gamba.

- Got the times of the calls?
- Yeah.

Day before yesterday, 3.30 pm.
Anything there?

- Day before yesterday, 3.30?
- 3.30, yeah.

Call it. No, have Lewis call.

- I'm Lewis.
- Clark, I mean.

- No, King. And he's dialing.
- Extension 647.

The bus. Right after.
I want to know who he called.

It's King. It's the Matoban
mission. An extension.

- Lud?
- No, someone named Marcus Matu.

Head over.
I need a face for that name.

She's booked 9 am, JFK.

- I'm on the LIE. Almost there.
- Call me from the gate.

Not as much sky as I remember,
but more skyscrapers.

23 years, Dr. Zuwanie. Things change.

They diminish.

Desire diminishes.

- Where is the Second Avenue?
- Just after we get off the bridge.

They decorated the bridge.

When I came here before, they lined
the bridge with flowers, welcoming me.

- That flight departs from gate one.
- Thank you.

- No sign of her. Hasn't checked in yet.
- Let me know when it's boarding.

Can we hold 'em in the safe room
to buy time?

You can try, but it's up to him.

There was a parade.
Right here on this Second Avenue.

There was a snowstorm of confetti.

Murderer!

This is Second Avenue, sir.

- Are you at the mission?
- Yeah, but he isn't.

- Nobody knows where he is.
- They know, they just won't tell us.

- You get a photo ID?
- Yeah.

Go back inside
and fax that to UN security now.

Get his address and get over there.

I've got eight minutes.

Keep it tight.

Agent Keller!

He's here. I just saw him.
Broadcast that description.

49th... 42nd.

Good. Next.

Move on.

There it is.

- OK.
- All right, go.

- Levels, please.
- Un, deux, trois...

Ladies and gentlemen,

British Airways flight 178 to
Johannesburg is ready to close.

Please make your way to gate
one immediately. Thank you.

Thank you. Levels, please.

The Assembly will first hear an address
by the President of the Republic of Matobo.

On behalf of the General Assembly,

I have the honor to welcome
to the United Nations

His Excellency Dr. Edmond Zuwanie,
President of the Republic of Matobo,

and to invite him
to address the Assembly.

Mr. President, Mr. Secretary-General.

Today my beloved country is under siege.

As you saw the other afternoon
across the river in Brooklyn,

the terrorists in my country
will stop at nothing.

How am I to defend my country
against enemies like these?

- I admit I have dealt harshly
with terrorists. - Tobin, it's King.

- as we all will have to.
- I don't think Matu's here.

Remember the profile of suicide bombers
and how there isn't one?

who know the evil
and violence of real terrorism...

Your mother and sister
will get their cheque on Monday.

- This isn't his apartment.
- You did well.

No one here will live long.
It's an AIDS hospice.

- with a reciprocal and immediate violence...
- My opinion? It's a con.

I have been forced to do this.

It is the hope and specific goal
of my administration

- to reform these brutal methods...
- Get him off the podium.

- To participate in the formation...
- We've got to go.

But I want to speak!

Come on, sir, run!

He's OK.

- Cover here. I'll take the hall.
- Where's Keller?

Freeze!

Incredible.
Thank God I looked up.

- He's from our mission.
- I know. Holster your weapon.

Dr. Zuwanie.

I remember the last time
you were here.

- Use the 42nd Street exit.
- We almost had an assassination here.

Please move...

We watched you
on the telly back home.

My family. All the families.
You were like the Beatles.

Two or three more seconds,
he would have assassinated him.

An almost-assassinated leader
gets so much credibility

so he can stay in power and
gets to stick around to enjoy it.

We were so proud of you.

There you were, speaking to the world.

I don't think you should touch...

Because I'm not wearing a glove?

What is your name, child?

I'm the Silvia whose family you killed.

- What's in your hand?
- It's... Just a precaution.

What's in your hand?
He must've been very surprised.

He thought it was a live round.

- Where is everyone?
- But you knew better.

Give me the live round.

I grew up seeing you with this gun.
It's the gun you saved our country with.

- Drop the gun!
- Put it down!

Keller, US Secret Service.

It's the same one
you used to kill it.

- He's got a Glock on his hip.
- Code 100 in the sound room.

Look at it.

Look at it!

- Careful. The bleeder had AIDS.
- There's no way you can prove this.

You'll cop a plea.
You're just an employee, right?

He's in custody.
They're bringing him down.

SWAT team's at 42nd Street.

- Are you all right?
- Yeah. Where's Zuwanie?

- The safe room. What happened?
- It was a fake.

A piece of theatre to justify
the killing.

Ethnic cleansing, genocide.

You there? That's the flight.
She's not on it.

I checked every hotel
in New York, her friends.

They don't know where she'd go.
No one knows her.

- I know her.
- OK, where is she?

- She said she was going home.
- I'm going home...

What home?

- How'd you happen to be there after hours?
- An evacuation. I left some things.

It takes too long...
I wouldn't mind if he were gone.

She's here. She's been
in that room all night.

How could someone so good, so...

How could you give us so much,

so much...

then take away more?

- He in there?
- Yeah.

Keep everybody out.

Silvia?

Silvia?

It's me.

I'm coming in alone. I'm coming in.

Five minutes.

Close it.

- Close it!
- Silvia, don't do this.

It was all just theatre,

an almost-assassination meant
to justify his acts.

- We've got all we need to prosecute.
- I have him.

- He'll die in prison.
- I want him to die how Simon died.

That'll be over in two seconds,
and you'll have all your years.

Sir, it's a lot worse than you think.
Your so-called assassin is dead.

Your head of security is making a deal.

We have Lud and the rifle.
You'll be tried before two courts.

- He's been tried!
- Sir, you're finished.

- It doesn't matter!
- Silvia. Listen to me.

I told you I'd let him drown.

The man who drove my wife
into a bridge abutment.

- But I wouldn't.
- Then you'd be wrong.

No, I wouldn't be wrong.

I don't want to spend the rest
of my life in mourning.

You have to get out of here.

I can't do that.
So put the gun down.

- I can't.
- Yes, you can. Put it down.

I can't! I can't... I can't.

Just go.

This is how it's done.

This is how you put a gun down.

Please.

You shoot him, he'll be dead...

but then you'll be dead...

and I don't know what I'll be.

Put it down.

Read it!

Read it.

- Where?
- The beginning. Read it.

- 'The gunfire around us...'
- Louder. Like when you wrote it.

When you believed it.

When you meant it.

'The gunfire around us
makes it hard to hear.'

'But the human voice is
different from other sounds.'

- 'It can be heard...
- 'It can be heard over...

- over noises that bury
everything else.' - 'Even...'

- 'Even...'
- 'Even when it's not shouting.'

'Shouting.'
'Even when it...'

'Even if it's just a whisper.'

'Even the lowest whisper
can be heard over armies...'

'When...'

- 'When...'
- 'when it's telling the truth.'

That little boy was my country.

Hove Vambi...

killed by land-mines.

Alexander Mungoshi...

Charles Kufomo...

Ruth Kufomo...

shot to death defending their home.

Robert Chenjari...

Benita Matkudzi...

burned to death
during a protest rally.

Edgar Sakuro...

Masumi Bamcha...

John Enkumo...

Yvon Enkumo...

- Let the record show...
- Steven Gawanda...

- that the Security Council...
- Solo Gawanda...

- has unanimously commanded...
- Steven Shamere...

- that President Zuwanie of Matobo...
- Stambuli Watiku... Esther Tikembu...

be tried at the International
Criminal Court in The Hague

for crimes against humanity.

Simon Broome...

shot to death in a soccer stadium.

How did you make out?

They said you told them
I wasn't a danger.

- I lied.
- Thank you.

They didn't believe you.

They're sending me back.
I wanted to say goodbye.

It's OK. I'm going home.

We never...

I never had time to tell you
how much I miss Africa.

We never had time
for a lot of things.

You don't have anyone
left there, do you?

No, it's where I remember them.

Ever been to Africa?

Lot of airports, no lions.

- When are you leaving?
- Tomorrow.

Wow.

Hey, look at this.
We're not kep�la any more.

We're on the same side.

You never know who you're
going to meet, do you?

No.

Will you let me know how you are?

You'll always know.

What was her name?

Laurie.

Keller.

Killed in an auto accident
in Santa Fe...

23 days ago.

Rest in peace?

Close enough.