All language subtitles for The_Strain_S02E11

- Previously on The Strain...
- If you guys stay, you'll die.

- Will you come with us?
- You can save her, Gus. But

the only way is to give her up.
- Tell me who has the book.

- Rudyard Fonescu.

- The boy from the convent.
- Rudyard! Run!

(quick breathing)

- Nothing is more
important than the Lumen!

We must find it before
somebody else does!

It is said to be cursed,
bringing death and disaster

to anyone who reads it, but
I'm willing to take that risk.

- I'm going to kill
Eldritch Palmer.

- Sniper his ass?
- We need a clean shot.

We'll never get another chance.
Now! Do it!

(gunshot)
(screaming)

Go!

(sirens)
- Freeze! Stay right there!

- Hold on a second!
I'm the one that you want!

(snarling and screeching)

(sizzling)

- Where's Dutch?
- Mayfield Hotel.

(screaming)

(clinking)

- Dutch Velders.

I brought you some company.

(choking sounds)

I always enjoyed schnapps.

Especially on a cold day.

(glass shattering)

(shriek)
(moaning)

(crunch)
(thumping)

Every once in a while

I enjoy a human cocktail.

(whimpering)
It relaxes me.

- What are you going
to do to me?

- Everything.

(theme music)

(heavy breathing)
(distant siren)

(distant bang)

(hollow scraping)

- That is not going to work.
- Show yourself.

Where did you get that book?
- I'll ask the questions.

Who are you?

- Your ear.

Your father burned it
against a stove

when you were a young boy.
Am I right, Rudyard?

- Who told you that?

- In 1966, a man arrived
at a nunnery in Austria.

Right after your mother died.

That man found you
hiding in the library,

and that man saved your life.

- You.

- You didn't recognize the cane?

Untie me.

- Tell me something
about yourself

that no one else knows.

- I'm a mystery to myself,

Mr. Eichorst.

- You enjoy being looked at.

Your hair,

your clothes.

Your perfume.

It's all very calculated.

- I don't wear perfume.

- Ah.

(sniffing)
(short breathing)

Yes, you're right.

Shampoo.

I'll tell you
something about myself

that nobody knows.

Your scent

reminds me of a certain perfume

that used to fill me
not only with desire

but despair

because I knew I could never
possess the woman who wore it.

My life didn't include
that for some reason.

I possessed other things:

power,

respect of other men.

(chuckle)
Listen to me,

the philosopher.

Funny to long for desire

when it never brought me
any happiness.

- So you joined the Nazi party
because you couldn't get laid.

- Someone like you
could never understand

a thing like that.

(bell ringing)
(throat clearing)

- Yes?

- Good day, Madam.
My name is Thomas Eichorst.

I'm here to offer you
an exciting

opportunity
to radioize your home,

courtesy of the Triebig
Electrotech Company.

- Oh, my. They're beautiful.

- Yes, the mahogany cabinets

make for an exciting
addition to any parlor.

Now, with a simple twist

of this knob, you'll have the
power of an orchestra conductor,

(music plays)
calling forth the melodies

of Beethoven and Wagner.

- How much is it?

- Triebig's easy
installment plan

lets you acquire
this very model for just

two marks a month.

Just sign here
and the radio's yours.

- Oh! I am buying you
a new radio.

- They are laying people off
at the plant.

I might not even have
a job next week.

- It's just two marks
a month, sir,

a very modest sum.

- There is no such thing.

(boisterous laughter)

- Ah, Tommy! We're all waiting

to declare a winner.

So, how many radios
did you unload today, hmm?

- Today? None.

- Why do I even ask, hmm?

- Tommy, your problem is you
have no fire in your belly.

- Most people can't afford
a luxury item

like a radio right now.

- People aren't buying
the radio.

They're buying you! You have
to project confidence, huh?

Especially in times like these.

If they sense your weakness,

you are dead before
you even say a word, huh?

Helga, may I have
the sales bonus, please?

Thank you.
- Bitte.

- To Karl Spurzem!
A salesman who leads

with courage and strength!

(clapping)

To the bar!
Drinks on me.

(men chatting)

(sigh)
(phone ringing)

- Oscar is a bully who will
never be more than a salesman.

I think you're terrible
at selling radios, Tommy,

because you're destined
for bigger things.

- Thank you.

Thank you for saying that.

- I mean it.

- Helga,

I was wondering...
- Yes?

- Would you have dinner
with me tonight?

- I can't. I have plans.
- Oh.

- But I could on Saturday.

- Saturday it is!

- Hey Aanya?

Angel told me you might
be up here.

- Yeah, I'm just doing
some sorting.

- Is it OK if I come in?
- Sure.

- (laughing): What?

- Nothing, it's just,

it's just funny having
somebody else up here.

- Is it OK?

- Yeah, you can help me
remember it after we leave.

You're not coming with us.

- It's not in me to run,

you know?

- It was a stupid idea anyways.

I mean, how would that work?

(men shouting)

- This can't be the place.

- Wow, this is the National
Guard Headquarters.

- Now what?

(distant thump)

(distant door closing)

- Aanya.

(soft groaning)
Aanya.

It's time to go.

(clanking)
(distant sirens)

- Would you mind? Please?
- Yeah, yeah. No problem.

Um...
- Angel, you are with us. Come.

- Alright. Smile, guys.

One, two, three.
(shutter sound)

Got it.

- Now we can go.

Are you ready, Angel?

Is everything alright?
- Yeah, everything is alright.

Ready to go.
(door unlocking)

(door opening)
(foreign men's voices)

(distant siren)

(loud engine running)

(squealing breaks)
- That cop lied.

- He said she'd be here.

There's only one Mayfield Hotel.
Come on. Let's look around.

- Fet.
- What the hell?

- She was here.

- Shit.
- She could have been moved to another car.

- If you're gonna switch cars,
you don't do it

behind the National Guard
Headquarters.

It's right there.

Right in front
of our goddamn faces.

- Look at the hotel...
The right side is all lit up

but the left is dark
all the way to the top.

- No lights at all.
Not even a television.

The Mayfield was a famous hotel

in the '30s and '40s,
then it became a flea-bag,

transient kinda place until the
1980s when they remodeled it.

At some point they must
have sealed that section off.

Maybe they ran outta money.
I dunno.

- Alright. How do we get inside?

- Franklin Delano Roosevelt.

- Not the answer
I would expect, but OK...

- Are you going to untie me?

- Why would I do that?
- I saved your life.

- Yes.

- So, now you need
to pay me back.

- But if I let you go,
you'll take my book.

- I'll purchase it.
Name your price.

- Mother Superior told me

it was cursed,
that I should burn it.

But it's never
been cursed for me.

It's been special.

- It is special, Rudyard.
Very special.

In the right hands,
it could save all of mankind.

- It's in the right hands now.

- Please, just tell me
what you want for it.

- You're not the only person
who wants to buy it.

Maybe someone else
will give me more.

- Who else have you spoken to?

Eldritch Palmer?

Rudyard,

you are making
a calamitous mistake!

The fate of the world
is literally in your hands!

- People always
underestimate me.

They talk to me like you do now.

Like I don't understand.
But I do understand.

I have the book.

All this time,
I've kept it safe.

People would say,
"You couldn't even find

Tahiti on a map, Rudyard."

But I am going there now.

And this is my silver ticket.

- Rudyard, please!

Don't.

Rudyard! Rudyard!

- (man): OK, you're clear to go.
Close the gate!

How can I help you?

- Augustin Elizalde. Gus.

- You have some papers,
Mr. Elizalde?

- I didn't know
I needed any papers.

- You living under a rock?
'Cause everyone

knows that this gate is
only open to government

officials and citizens
with special credentials.

- Can you do me a favor and

check that list for my name?
- This isn't a nightclub. There is no list.

- Please. Can't you just
let us go through?

- Just relax, Ms. Gupta, OK?
I'll take care of it.

(loud honking)

- (muttering): What the hell?
Hey! Turn off your brights!

- What do you want me to do?
- Nothing.

Don't do nothing.

- (guard, quietly): Clear?
OK.

Drive through. Let's go.

- Aanya! Wait!
- You know, you can still change your mind.

- Just so you know?
We would've worked,

just not right now.

When it's all over,
I'm coming to get you.

OK?

OK?

- Hey, c'mon! C'mon!

Let's move!

- See you guys later, alright?
- Thank you, Gus.

- Yes. We are very grateful.
- Be safe, alright?

- Hey, guys. Let 'em through!

(low talking)

- (Mr. Gupta): Thank you.
- (Angel): Goodbye.

Thank you.

- (guard): Alright, gate secure.

- What is this?

- This...

this is the Silver Angel.

- Nice to meet you.
- Now, are we gonna talk

or we gonna drive?

(screeching tires)

(opera music playing)

(jaunty music playing)
(lively chatter)

- I don't feel as though
I'm playing the violin

so much as it's playing me.

- (chuckling):
What-- what do you mean?

- Well, it had so many
owners before me.

Each with their own
way of playing.

Their own emotional life.

It seemed to me as if the violin

absorbed all that and

created its own
personality and sound.

Sounds kind of crazy, I guess.
- No! Not at all!

But why haven't you pursued
a professional career?

- That was my dream.

I was hoping to go to Vienna;

audition for the symphony.

But then the crash came.

Father lost his job.

My family needs every penny
I can bring in.

- But you must go to Vienna.

If you don't, you'll regret it.

- What about you, Tommy?

Do you have any idea

what you want to do
with your life?

- Oh, I don't know.

I envy you, Helga.

You have a passion. A direction.

At school, my friends...
they all knew

they wanted to be
lawyers or engineers,

or what have you.

But me? Nothing's worked.

I can't seem to find anything
at which I can excel.

- Some people are late bloomers.

- (man): Pardon me,
I need that table.

Gentlemen, ladies, please

may I have your attention!

On my way here tonight, I passed
a bread line that stretched

over a kilometer. People who

have lost their jobs,
their pensions, their homes,

their self-respect.

Some say Germany's days
as a great nation are finished.

But I refuse to believe that,

my friends.
- Let's get out of here.

- Just a minute.
- A Third Reich is rising

like a phoenix from the ashes
of the Weimar Republic.

A Reich in which
there are no more

bread lines. A Reich
in which each and every German

has a job, a sense of purpose

and pride. A Reich that needs

the blood and sweat
of true Germans.

- (all): Ja! Ja!
- A Reich that needs you!

And you! And you!

Yes, you, my friend.

Germany needs you!

Who here has lost his pension?

Who here has lost his home?

Who here thinks they've lost
the ability to hope?

- What is the matter?
That was a great speech.

Hitler wants to unite
all the German people.

- Except the Jews.

You do know what
the Nazis think?

- Of course. They're finally
saying it out loud:

the Jewish bankers crashed
the stock market.

They're the ones who saddled
Germany with debts

and ruined our economy.

They're parasites and leeches.

What?

- You're so blind.

You can't see what's right
in front of your face.

- What, Helga?

- I'm a Jew.

Is that how you see me?

Am I a parasite?

Or a leech?
- Oh, I didn't mean you...

or your family. Hitler was
talking about the foreign Jews.

From Poland and from Russia.

Hitler has no problem with the
German Jews. And neither do I.

- I was wrong about you. You're
not destined for better things.

You're right where you belong.

At the bottom of the blackboard.

- No, Helga.

(whispering): Helga.

(door opening)

I brought you a snack.

- What? You're seasoning me now?

No, thanks!

(whispering): No, thanks.

(small cry)
- Did you hear me ask,

"Would you care
for some pineapple?"

No, you did not.

This isn't a dinner party where
someone passes you the peas

and you say,
"No, thanks. I'm fine."

(loud breathing)

Tell me you will
eat the pineapple.

- Yes, I'll eat it.

- No! Say,

"Yes, I will eat the pineapple."

- Yes,

I will eat the pineapple.

(coughing)

- Good girl.

And yes,

as a seasoning,
pineapple is exquisite.

(whimpering)

(distant siren)

(scraping)
(heavy breathing)

(distant voices)

(grunt)

(eerie music)

Take off your pants.

- (scoffing): What?

- Remove your pants, Dutch.

Now!

- Well, I know you lost
your dick 70 years ago,

so what are you gonna do?

- You'll be surprised.

It is a night

for trying new things.

Your mouth.

Give it to me.

(short breaths)

Gut...

gut.

Gut.

Gut.

(whispering): Spread your legs.

Bend over.

(croaking)

(low squealing)

(spraying sound)

(yelling and shrieking)

- Ah! Ah!

Shit!

(crying out)

Ah, God!

(whimpering)

Come on, come on,
please! Come on!

(whispering): What is this?

- Now, the Mayfield sits right
above two dead-end lines

from Grand Central,
tracks 61 and 63.

Now, back in the day,

they used those lines
as a private subway entrance

for President Roosevelt
whenever he came to New York.

So then no one would see him
in his wheelchair. Here we go.

- Careful. Looks like a strigoi passage.
- Exactly.

Not good. Let's go!

- Agh!

Ah...

(low growling)

- We got it!

(bang)

(heavy breathing)

- (distant): Where are you,
Fraulein Velders?

Please stop running.

There is no way to go.

Your shampoo, Fraulein,
and your blood...

I'm almost there.

- No! No!
No! No!

No, please! Please!

(footsteps)

(growling)

Get away from me!

(muffled): No!

- Did you hear that?

- (muffled): No!
Get away from me!

- Come on!

- Thank you for an engaging
chase, Fraulein.

- No, stay away from me!

Oh, please.

- You know, most days,
eating is simply a duty.

But this...

I have not looked forward
to a meal like you in...

I can't remember how long.

- I hope you choke on me!

Aah!
(grunting)

- Time for us to be going.

- No! No!

- What? No!

- Screw you, you arsehole!

(thumping)
Ah!

- Dutch!
(grunting)

(screaming)
Dutch!

(clinking)

I'm coming for you!

You all might wanna get back.

- (distant): No! No!

Help! Help!

No! No! No!

(screaming)

Somebody! Help!

(curses in German)

- Dutch!

(crying)

You alright? Hmm?

- Gah!

(crying)

(sizzling)

(loud yell)

- Ah, Untersturmfuhrer.

Thank you so much for coming.
- How can I help?

- This Jew claims to know you.

- I'm so sorry to bring
you into this,

but they are threatening
to deport me,

and my whole family.
Thomas, please tell--

(gasp)
- You do not address an officer

of the SS by his first name.

Do you understand?

- Yes.

- Is it true?

That you have a relationship?

- We worked in the same office

for seven months.

Then she was accused
of stealing.

- What?
- It was never proven, but...

the money was gone, nonetheless.

- None of this is true!
- That was the extent

of my relationship with her.

- Thank you for clarifying
this matter, Untersturmfuhrer.

(crying)

(indistinct chatter)

- Heil.

- Sieg heil.

- Guten tag, mein herr.

- Heil Hitler,
Herr Untersturmfuhrer!

It's good to see you again, sir.

(birds cawing)

(creaking)

(violin music)

(gulp)

(sirens)
(honking)

(soft crying)

(distant sirens)

- Wait right there.

State your business.
- Mr. Rudyard Fonescu

to see Alonso Creem.

- Is he expecting you?
- Cardinal MacNamara sent me.

(static click)
- There's a man here.

Wants to see you.
Says the Cardinal sent him.

- (man): He's good.

- Move over.

(distant siren)

OK, let's go.

- (guard): Right.
- (second guard): Clear.

(throat clearing)
- My name is Rudyard Fonescu.

The Cardinal said
you could help me.

- Cardinal's dead.

- This was before he died.

In fact, I think
it's why he died.

I have something.

Something people
would pay a lot

of money for.
- The Lumen.

- How do you know?
- Let me see it.

- I need money.
I need safe passage--

- I need to see the book.

I think we can do business.

(theme music)