Original subtitles

Every time you step on that battlefield,

you are not only fighting for your country...

Let's fucking go.

...you are fighting for that man next to you.

Mosul has a new player on the board.

Massoud Danawi.

A notorious weapons facilitator out of Lebanon.

I know who Danawi was meeting with.

Hamid Al-Jabouri.

Now we have a chance to take down a known terrorist.

Agency has lead on all things Al-Jabouri.

Oh, you got to be fucking kidding me.

Jabouri's an asset, isn't he?

Find Al-Jabouri.

We take him alive.

Ben, what the fuck?

We got a key fob.

Bedside table, looks like an initiator to me.

He went for an initiator.

♪ Well, Mama told me ♪

♪ When I was young ♪

♪ "Come sit beside me ♪

♪ my only son ♪

♪ and listen closely ♪

♪ to what I say ♪

♪ And if you do this ♪

♪ it'll help you some sunny day ♪

♪ Ah, yeah" ♪

This is some bullshit, sir.

'ttention!

Report.

Hut! Salute!

Lieutenant Hastings, Chief Edwards, reporting as ordered, sir.

- Mo? - Yeah?

You were in the room.

My focus was on the girls.

I didn't see anything.

Okay.

And I was in the third floor hallway when I heard the gunshot.

But I know that Edwards is a sound and trusted operator.

He had to shoot Al-Jabouri to end the fight,

then it was warranted.

- Amen. - Stop.

I appreciate what you boys are doing. I do.

But I did it.

I buried that motherfucker, and I would do it again.

End of story.

I came into the room.

Chief Edwards then informed me that as he tried

to restrain the HVT,

Al-Jabouri fought for Chief Edwards' sidearm,

forcing the chief to fire

- in self-defense. - No.

His reactions were in line with standing ROEs, period.

It won't keep you out of their crosshairs,

but it'll keep you out of prison.

They're covering for each other.

Charlie Platoon heads home in three days,

and Chief Edwards has been confined to quarters.

Confined?

He fucking murdered a protected CIA

- asset, Commander. - Enough!

In order to temper the drama and keep this

from spiraling out of control,

I think we all know the appropriate compromise.

You want to take his bird.

An example needs to be made.

Fifty-eight weeks.

Fifty-eight of the hardest weeks ever designed by man...

...to become a SEAL.

Eight weeks prep.

Three weeks basic orientation.

First three phases, seven weeks each.

SQT, 26 weeks.

Only one in five men

who attempt our pipeline make it through.

Twenty percent.

What it takes to earn this pin

might seem silly to most.

Especially folks like you.

But the Trident is the most tangible sign of membership

to the most exclusive fraternity on planet fucking Earth.

And when my men die,

the dead carry their brothers' Tridents with them to the grave.

So let's be clear.

That's what you're taking from him.

You're not just taking some bird off a man's chest.

You're stripping him of his soul.

The ambassador supports my decision.

Then the Agency agrees,

on one condition.

It can't just be Chief Edwards that burns for this.

We want the chief

and at least one other officer in charge.

It should be me.

They want a lieutenant, it should be me.

He's my friend.

He's my fucking swim buddy.

Yeah, and he's my chief.

I'm the one who put him in that room,

knowing how personal it was.

Ben's as sound as any of us.

Are you sure about that?

You look closely enough,

you'll see those strings vibrating.

What are you talking about, man?

He's finally getting his act together.

Prepping for his E-8 exam. New wife. New life.

Yeah, your life.

That's not Ben figuring his shit out.

That's him wanting what you've got.

And he's not you.

You think for one second I'm gonna let you and Ben take the fall without me,

then you haven't learned shit since our college days, brother.

I'm done.

You're done?

The fuck do you mean, you're done?

I mean I'm ready to get out.

I have been for a while now.

Oh, bullshit.

Raife, you're a frogman. You were born to be a frogman.

Come on, brother. You're the reason I got in the teams.

Yeah, well, there's a time to serve...

...and then there's a time to walk away.

I've just been closer to the latter for a while now.

That's not a reason to leave the fucking teams, Raife.

Yeah, well, that's the one I'm willing to give right now.

Don't leave your platoon to take on ISIS without you.

They're a savage and dangerous enemy.

Alpha needs their leader to face what's coming.

And the teams'll be fine without me, eh?

They got James Reece.

Along with this warfare insignia comes the responsibility...

...of maintaining a moral compass

that reflects the trust

that we put in you to wear it.

You've broken that trust.

Fire it up, boys!

Chief Edwards!

Hooyah, Chief Edwards!

Lieutenant Hastings!

Hooyah, Lieutenant Hastings!

Thank you.

I guess I don't need this after all.

Just so you know,

that's to scale.

Aw...

Nah.

Wait.

Roger that.

I'm getting you back in the teams.

I know.

Watch out for our boy.

Ladies and gentlemen, your attention, please.

Flight NH658 to Munich

is now ready for boarding.

I am being honest with you, Dad.

It was my decision, okay?

I just... needed you to hear it from me first.

Dad.

The Hastings have been through worse, eh?

Son, we'll fight this.

Yeah.

Well, the fight's over.

We are sorry to inform you

that flight 2404 to Chicago

has been cancelled.

Fuck me.

- I'll call you when I'm back. - Raife.

Fuck.

Cancelled.

This day keeps getting better.

Fuck this.

We deserve a decompression stop anyways.

Hotel's on me.

Yeah?

I got some options before our connecting flight.

Hear me out, please.

Alright. We rent a couple motorcycles

and we take Germany's Black Forest High Road.

Hairpins for days. I got a 100cc Vespa

with your name on it.

If that makes you uncomfortable, I'll let you on the back.

Doesn't like it. That's fine.

Concierge swears by this.

River cruise on the Main.

Most romantic thing you can do in Frankfurt.

Alright, he doesn't like the water. That's fine, too.

Number three. Struwwelpeter Museum.

Creepiest kids book ever written.

Look at this little fucker.

Never trimmed his fingernails. Look at that.

It's disgusting yet enthralling.

Take a peek. For me.

You know, I think you're gonna have to be careful, Chief.

Because I think Amy

is gonna have a proper fucking shit

when she sees that you've spent a month's wages on this hotel.

Let me worry about Amy,

you worry about that next drink.

You know, man, I don't know what to say.

I'm not gonna apologize for what I did to Al-Jabouri.

I'm not.

But I am sorry for what it did to you.

Alright. Next 12 rounds are on me.

Take your time.

Two Blanton's. Neat, please.

Put those drinks on my tab, Julia.

Thank you for your service.

Gratitude.

Is it that obvious?

Well, we tend to stick out in places like this.

1st Cav?

Garryowen.

Mm. Nice.

Thank you for your service.

And for the drinks.

I know your team clipped those zip ties.

What'd you say?

Staging that scene at Al-Jabouri's.

That's a pro move.

Your task unit tried to cover for Chief Edwards.

But one of the girls in the room gave a statement.

She said...

a bearded warrior shot Al-Jabouri and another

knelt down to touch his hand when he came into the room.

I'm the guy who made that statement disappear.

You're Agency.

Look...

...I need two shooters for a time-sensitive op.

What you did to Al-Jabouri tells me

that you're willing to do what it takes

to make an actual difference.

And I find that exciting.

Plus, you're fresh.

I don't need to lose time with a workup.

And?

And...

you know my target.

Massoud Danawi.

I'm offering you a chance to finish what you started.

Take out the guy who provided a bomb that killed your friend.

Or you go home.

Civilian life awaits you.

That, uh, general discharge

makes it tough to find a job, though.

And your gift is a few years in the fleet.

Logistics and supply on a big, grey ship,

thankful they don't give you a loaded weapon

to play with anymore,

because you'd probably turn it on yourself.

Look, I have a window.

Danawi's in Europe, working for Iran.

I need to know why.

So, either you work with me now,

do right by the job...

...and you get a fast track back to the teams.

And an honorable discharge.

Or...

Or you risk Danawi going back in the wind,

continue to put your brothers downrange in danger.

I'll give you till tomorrow to decide.

I don't need the night.

I'll see you back at the room.

Not going with your friend?

No.

He can make up his own mind.

Rules of engagement?

Flexible.

How long's the job?

Your friend wants in.

Yeah, well...

...he doesn't know the CIA like I do.

Mtulivu.

Right?

That's what they call you back home?

Huh?

Swahili for

"the calm one."

Unshakeable. Constant.

Calm and collected, no matter the circumstances.

How do you think that's gonna serve you in the office cubicle, Raife?

I guess we'll find out soon enough, eh?

You know what happens to men like us in the civilian world, Raife?

Hmm?

The sheep

that we once protected

and that once admired you...

...they see your teeth,

your claws, the...

God forbid they hear your stories

and learn the things you've done...

...they start to look at you with fear in their eyes.

That's first.

Then it's pity.

Until, finally, they don't even look at you at all.

I don't blame you for being worried

about stepping to this side.

I know your family's history, I know their experience

with the Agency in Africa.

Is that supposed to give me some comfort?

I've been you.

I know what it's like to try the civilian world

and to walk away from a job unfinished.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw one thing.

The fight.

And everybody still in it.

Everybody still out there, hunting.

Men like us--

protectors, defenders, sentinels--

you're either in the fight

or you're thinking about it.

And the guilt you carry for walking away?

It's that thing that's driving you in this pool tonight.

That?

That never goes away.

It's just another couple weeks, babe.

I've barely seen you since the wedding.

I know.

Well, can you at least tell me

where you are?

Amy, I need to do this.

Then I'm home.

Look, I got to go.

I'll call you when I can. I love you.

I love you, Ben. Be careful.

Bye.

Old man took another run at you, didn't he?

Knew it.

Jed Haverford.

If that's even his real name.

You know, I don't know why you're in such a rush to get out.

This guy gives a shit.

And wants to bring us to Danawi?

We have a chance to bury this motherfucker?

Then I'm in.

I couldn't live with myself if he walks.

And find out Reecer and the boys get shot up downrange.

Is that why you're doing this-- for Reece?

Fuckin' A right.

For Reecer, the boys, me.

You too.

Listen...

I know why you did what you did with Al-Jabouri.

But if we do this,

that cannot happen again.

Ben, I need to know that you can find the brakes.

Understood?

Understood.

You have my word.

Then let's go finish this.

Fuckin' right.

Let's go.

Gentlemen. Leave the bags.

Go see Tal. She'll check you in.

You Tal?

Sign the two sets of papers on the table in front of you.

You can read it, but it's a pretty standard form, you know?

Allows us to rack you over from DoD,

slap you with some Title 50 privileges

and lets the Navy know you'll be playing with us for a minute.

Your accent-- Israeli?

And your accent-- confusing?

Yes, this is a joint Agency-Mossad

sanction unit.

Okay.

Drop your wallets,

those Gatorz and G-Shocks

in the box.

Here are your new IDs.

Hmm.

It's okay, mami, you get it back when you're done.

Like prison.

Edwards.

Gentlemen, Tal Varon.

Mossad Cyber and Forgery.

You never said this was a joint operation.

I said I work against Iran.

Mossad being here ain't a big leap.

Come on. Follow me.

Danawi came into our orbit via Artem Golubev,

a Quds Force financier out of Istanbul.

Now, this meeting represents an intersection of the ratlines

that move weapons across the Shia Crescent

with Tehran's financial couriers in Europe.

Question is why is Danawi

- so far north? - When's the meeting?

Tonight.

Tonight?

Artem will be in Krems. Has a big crush on this DJ.

He follows her all over Europe

like a total stalker. But he's rich,

- so, apparently, he gets a pass. - Tal, stay on point.

Artem requested the meeting

and exchange with Danawi at this club.

We have somebody inside.

So once you get there, they'll tell you where to go and what to do.

What's outside the club?

Cobblestone streets and alleyways.

Pretty quiet neighborhood.

- Weapons? - Well, there's

security on the door, so you can't carry.

But our colleague inside will provide two veterinary guns when you land.

Vet guns?

May I?

Five rounds of nine.

Bolt action. It's heavy.

Five-pound trigger break.

Someone want to tell me why we're using these fuckin' guns?

Try it.

She's quiet.

That's some James Bond shit right there.

What's this?

Get yourselves cleaned up--

new clothes, shoes, expensive watches--

then get back here for rehearsals.

Tal will get you spun up on comms, we'll run through contingencies.

So, just so I'm clear,

we haven't even seen this venue yet

and we're assassinating a Quds Force asset

on allied soil tonight?

In a perfect world, I want Danawi alive for questioning.

But if I can't have him,

it's better he's six feet under than out there.

This is the black side of special operations, Raife.

Things move faster over here.

You end up acting on things before you get the whole picture.

Sometimes even before you get a canvas.

Are we good?

Capture/kill.

We're good.

Okay. Eyes and ears in position.

Standing by for green.

You're not gonna connect us to the inside man?

Uh, took us a minute to work our way into the club.

No need to burn it and risk compromise

unless this thing's a go.

Fucking hate techno.

Should have brought my glowsticks.

Reserved table is to your left.

Somebody dance with me on this table.

Artem. Party in the back, two o'clock.

Yay!

Bring it on!

No, I don't... I don't like this shit.

What, uh, what is this?

Patching us in to the tag on the VIP table.

- Yes! - Yes.

So, what are the rules of this game?

The guys at that table said they'll outdrink you tonight.

500-euro bet.

There's too much background noise, Tal.

- Clean it up. - On it.

...fucking table?

Don't get cocky. You're already

four pints behind.

I never lose.

They're on!

Then you better step it up.

- Seems like a good time. - Yeah.

I'll feel better when we make contact with Haverford's asset.

Fifty bucks. Bet.

Bartender, cauliflower ears.

Too obvious.

Old fellow with the peacoat, 12 o'clock.

It's way too hot in here for that coat unless he's carrying.

Let's hope he's our asset. That is a fucking big boy.

It is a big boy.

Rules are rules.

Target's arrived. Danawi inbound.

Headed for the rear entrance.

Danawi exiting with a two-man security detail. A third,

the driver, is waiting in the car.

Oh, lovely.

Where the fuck are our guns?

Great question.

A pint of ale for the Rhodesian and a lager for the pirate.

Your credit card, Hastings.

Keep up appearances.

Yes, we allow smoking.

You two strike me as cigar lovers.

Op is on.

You'll see me slip a sedative and diuretic cocktail into Danawi's drink.

Once he excuses himself to the restroom,

you intercept, deal with any security, and escort him outside,

to the back alleyway where Tal is waiting.

Your entry was good.

Now the real work begins.

What the fuck just happened?

You owe me 50 bucks.

Fine.

She's one for one.

Elvis is in the building.

Danawi and two security guards.

Rear entrance.

They're carrying.

Easy, chief.

I'm good.

That motherfucker...

Massoud, my friend. Please.

Take a seat.

The money.

Please, for me. It will look more suspicious if we don't sit.

Need more on the table, Tal.

Copy. Pushing it.

Better, right?

You have to listen to this DJ's set.

- She's my girl. - It's fucking on.

Seen, like, 15 of her shows.

- Let's fucking go. - You know what,

I'll get you something to drink. Honey?

- Another, uh, vodka cranberry for me. - Cranberry? Mm-hmm.

Exactly. And, uh...

- ...whatever my friend wants. - Nothing for me.

It's bottle service.

Your friend's already paid for everything.

Take advantage of it, babe.

I said I don't want anything.

A sparkling water for my friend.

You have my next stop?

You get instructions with the transfer, okay?

So our networks stay anonymous in these lines.

Give me my money and we're done.

You mean... now?

Now.

Thanks.

Exchange in process. We need to move.

Drinks inbound. Get ready for intercept.

All set.

Better?

- Your drinks. - Thank you.

Give it to someone else.

It's paid for.

You drink it.

That's the second time tonight

you've concerned yourself with my drink.

Once is chance.

Twice is something else.

Take it, leave it. I don't give a fuck. I was being nice.

Well...

let me be nice to you.

On your feet all night in a place like this?

You need it more than me.

Drink it.

Come on, friend.

Leave her alone. You're being paranoid.

- Fuck. - How do you think

I've stayed alive for so long, friend?

- Coming to you. - No.

Thank you for your kindness.

♪ I'm so done with it ♪

♪ Keep me out of reach...

I'm expecting a huge tip, babe.

Huge.

I'm sorry.

Friendly.

♪ Now you're getting on, aren't you? ♪

♪ But you know all the scars...

Danawi's rolling deeper than we thought.

At least four.

One was pre-staged before we arrived. He just made Ben.

Come on, now. Stay up.

Ben, do you read me? You're made.

Get down.

I got you.

Good.

Status report?

Give me a fucking second.

Danawi's preparing to move.

Hey.

Drink this.

Good.

Good.

The driver is moving inside.

Assuming that's for you.

Copy. Let's go.

Is it still a go?

Eliza.

Sitrep.

Still a fucking go.

The op is still on.

You go overt and bring me Danawi's phone.

Guard inbound.

Moving.

Moving.

Danawi's exiting.

You're my hammers now.

Everyone is a fuckin' nail.

Killing the car.

Tal, they're coming to you.

Fuck. They went left.

Hold here.

We'll pick Danawi up as he exits

- the alleyways. - Eliza,

switch to SSE. We need that phone

and any intel for the next target.

And clean up the scene.

LT?

Are you coming, chief?

On you.

Shit.

Your dogs are on the hunt.

Tal, get over here. We need to clear the scene.

Good boys.

No survivors, or we're compromised.

Fuck.

You get him. I've got Danawi.

Fuck. Three fucking rounds.

One down.

Tal, where to?

Walk me in.

Copy you, Ben. Sending you Raife's location.

In a hundred meters, turn left.

Copy that. LT, what do you see?

Loading the last body, then leaving the scene.

Raife, what's your status?

Edwards is coming to you.

Tal, connect me to the CCTV feeds.

Copy. On it.

Raife, status? Raife?

Tal.

Police are three minutes out.

Body retrieval complete.

But we still don't have Danawi's phone.

Copy. Go find the cowboys.

Blue, blue.

How many rounds you got left?

Three.

One.

Cover me while I close the distance.

Easy day.

Moving.

Move.

Fuck the brakes.

Congrats on the audition, boys.

Grab his phone, return to base.

♪ Make his fight on the hill in the early day ♪

♪ Constant chill deep inside ♪

♪ Shouting gun, on they run through the endless gray ♪

♪ Oh, they fight, for the right ♪

♪ Yes, but who's to say? ♪

♪ For a hill, men would kill, why? ♪

♪ They do not know ♪

♪ Stiffened wounds test their pride ♪

♪ Men of five, still alive through the raging glow ♪

♪ Gone insane from the pain that they surely know ♪

♪ For whom the bell tolls ♪

♪ Time marches on ♪

♪ For whom the bell tolls ♪

♪ Take a look to the sky just before you die ♪

♪ It's the last time you will ♪

♪ Blackened roar, massive roar fills the crumbling sky ♪

♪ Shattered goal fills his soul with a ruthless cry ♪

♪ Stranger now are his eyes to this mystery ♪

♪ Hears the silence so loud ♪