Original subtitles

You got it?

It worked well, General.

Give it to me.

Fucking finally.

Eyes on the target.

- And the briefcase? - Right where we want it.

Good.

Agent Hooper?

- Yes, Mother. - You in position?

The sexist position of the blonde girl in the short red

dress and the knee-high boots at the bar with next to no purpose

on this mission. Yep.

Agent Becky Hooper, reporting for duty.

Simple affirmative would've sufficed.

For what it's worth, I think you look good in red.

You're stupid, and I hate you.

Just give him the glass, Becky.

I'd say wish me luck, but we both know I don't need it.

All right.

Remember, we need three minutes to download the contents of

the computer in that briefcase.

Mr. Sterling.

Mr. Pierce.

Weren't you ever taught that to be on time is to be late?

I'm afraid my mum skipped that lesson.

So charming.

Please, sit.

4% and counting.

So, what is it your employer is looking for this time?

Tell me about the Raven.

Something wrong?

I don't know what you're talking about.

25%, Rigby.

You didn't actually think you could show the Iranians

a next-generation drone and keep it quiet, did you?

The Raven is not for sale.

Everything is for sale this year.

No, no, no, that's--

Hey, the backup stopped.

What happened?

They took the glass.

What do you mean they took the glass?

I mean, the waitress took the glass,

the glass with the remote hard drive in it,

the glass critical to the mission.

Fuck. All right. We're gonna move to Plan B.

Copy that. Excuse me.

I don't like being ambushed, Mr. Pierce.

This meeting is over.

Give him the codes.

What's this?

A sign of good faith.

The codes to a single satellite controlled by the Saudis,

encrypted from top to bottom.

Untraceable.

And you suspect this will make me talk?

What could be of more value to Golshiri than the power

to control his enemy's skies?

And for you to be the one to bring it to him?

Excuse me.

From the girl in red.

I'll teach you a little something I learned

a long time ago.

In this line of work, you'd be wise never to accept drinks

from a random woman dressed like that.

Drink is spiked.

Good. Rigby, we really need him to take a sip of that drink.

What do you say, the Raven for the rest of the codes?

Sounds like an arrangement worth drinking to?

As I said, the Raven is not for sale.

Goodbye, Mr. Pierce.

Rigby, we cannot lose that briefcase.

I hate to say this, Montana, but--

Hooper, do not say it.

Time for Plan C.

- Becky! - There is no Plan C.

-Becky! -Oh, and another thing.

The next time your employer wants to do business,

he should contact me directly.

Hmm.

Not so pretty close up.

Becky!

We're gonna need that briefcase.

And who is it you think you are?

I'm the one you didn't expect.

Fuck!

No. Please.

Move. Move.

Move. Becky.

The name's Becky Hooper, Agent Becky Hooper, and this?

This is just another day in paradise.

Two years ago, you somehow convinced me that recruiting

a 16-year-old girl

with anger management issues was a good idea.

In that time she abused the agency's reach

and blew a man up.

Ah, fuck.

She obliterated several of her fellow agents, costing us

copious amounts in facial reconstruction surgery.

Jesus Christ, Becky!

It's just a fucking training exercise!

She went rogue on her first, second, and now third mission.

Time for Plan C.

Time for Plan C!

Time for Plan C.

No matter how many times the CIA suspends her

or issues mandated therapy sessions...

...nothing changes!

Nothing.

Director, do you think this is a conversation

that we should be having in private?

Why? 'Cause it worked out so well

the last 12 times?

Sterling was our best shot in accessing the intel, tied to one

of the biggest arms dealers out of Europe.

Yeah, and I got you the laptop, didn't I?

No, Agent Hooper, you destroyed it

when you used it as a meat mallet on this man's head.

Oh. Yeah.

Oops.

Yeah. Oops.

If you have a problem with my methods, then why the hell am

I still here?

-Your methods? -Hmm.

Oh, that's very good.

Hooper, you're excused.

Rigby, you too.

Return to New York where you'll await further instruction

on whether or not you'll be seeking employment

at your local bodegas.

Ma'am, with all due respect, I've been tr--

Get the fuck out of my office!

Hmm.

Montana, that girl is a danger

to herself and her comrades.

She cares more about these missions than any other agent

we have.

Well, I ain't picking up on that.

- She's a fighter. - No, she's a psychopath.

A killing machine.

It's a miracle she hasn't taken out any civilians yet,

and I will not be responsible the day shit goes tits up.

Fuck you, dude. I have the light.

The CIA relocated me to New York after training.

Smells like shit.

It's loud as hell.

People are jackasses.

Why don't you go outside, take a walk

and get hit by a bus?

I love everything about it.

Yeah, a landline.

Go work for the CIA for two years,

you ditch your cellphone too.

Delivery.

The thought of ever living a normal life

had long passed.

I was better off alone.

It took me too long to realize that I was the angel of death

in the lives of anyone I cared about, but I refused to let

anything bad happen to Diego.

So, I found him a new home.

Sometimes it's all just too much, and everything goes dark.

I can't read without my glasses.

Uh-oh.

I will catch her scho-- school

and bring it with us.

Baby ballerina.

Baby ballerina.

Hi chipmunk, how you doing?

Am I there?

Yeah, almost.

There you are. Yeah. Stop.

When I first joined the CIA, they put me

through all these tests and psych evaluations.

Felt like I was under a microscope.

State your full name, age, place of birth.

Don't you have that on file from, like, the last five times

we did this?

Do you make new friends easily?

Don't know.

Never tried.

How old were you when you got into your first fight?

Nine. I broke the kid's face.

They asked me if I'd always been so unhappy, so angry.

How did you feel when your father died?

Becky?

Oh, super.

It was great. What a fun time.

What does it matter? Shit happens.

Line secure, proceed.

This is Fox.

Sir, this is worse than we thought.

Wilhelm was lying to me. Maybe he suspects something.

I don't know.

But sir, the Fourth Reich's just the fucking beginning.

Russell, everything okay?

Get out of the car, Anton.

I was just calling a friend.

I had picked up a new hobby since joining the agency:

swords.

Like knives, but bigger.

Hey, you've gotten better.

Can you improvise?

Hmm.

How was that?

Hooper.

The Director's here to see you.

Not you, Rigby. Just Hooper.

I'll go quietly, but I'm keeping the apartment and the suits.

Shut up and listen.

Now, four years ago, you had the misfortune of crossing paths

with a group of escaped convicts lead by this man,

Dominick Lewis.

They were looking for a key under your family's lake house.

Well, it's about fucking time.

Our best guess is that the key had been hidden

decades earlier by the home's former owner,

a man named Joseph Alpert.

Real name, Johann Reuss.

Now, Johann, good old-fashioned Nazi.

One of Hitler's favorites, actually.

A leading bioengineer in the development of nerve agents.

Now, by 1946, he became a first-round draft pick

in Operation Paperclip.

He enjoyed the American dream for a few decades before dying

in 1987, survived by his grandson, Wilhelm Reuss.

Wilhelm here, he's proven to be quite the problem child.

We now know he's been the mastermind behind Dominick

Lewis's jailbreak, step one in a multi-pronged plan to usher

in the Fourth Reich.

Step two was to obtain the key, which would lead as a roadmap

to step three.

These are UTM coordinates.

They lead to a forest in Poland, the site of Hitler's military

headquarters during the Second World War, a place more commonly

known as the Wolf's Lair.

You'll imagine our surprise when Wilhelm here relocates

his family there, joined by his right hand, Russell Wagner,

and his associate, Dr. Friedrich Metzger.

Now, thermal imagery indicates that there is something going

on underneath the lair.

How did Wilhelm know where to go if he doesn't have the key?

Well, he does have the key.

The w-- what? How?

We gave it to him.

Okay, so you gave the man trying to usher in the Fourth Reich

the very thing he may need

in order to usher in the Fourth Reich?

Sometimes national security requires dining with the devil.

We had an asset on the inside, Agent Jeffrey Fox.

We received a distress call from him.

We believe he's been made.

Okay, so you want me to go on a rescue mission?

They have identified Fox as an agent.

There is no one left to rescue.

Agent Hooper, you will travel to Poland at 0900 hours tomorrow.

Once there, you'll pick up where Agent Fox left off.

The Reuss family lives on site at the lair's inn.

Which is where you'll be staying.

Mm, so Hitler's man cave has an inn.

And a gift shop in case you need a hat.

Collect what intel you can on what it is Wilhelm is doing

beneath that bunker, and report back. That's it.

In other words, try not to kill anyone.

And Agent, the noblemen are not the only terror organization

in the world trying to overthrow the government.

Extremist groups are rising up all around the globe.

But Reuss, he is one of the most terrible

and dangerous of them all.

So I ask you, are you up for this?

You had me at Nazi.

Mein Volk, for 80 years we have been plagued by the ignorant

ways of our enemies, forced to hide among them,

to feign unity, to stand by and suffer whilst bearing the burden

of a superior way.

We know it takes only one man to bring the Almighty's light

into the darkness.

And thanks to you, and to our fellows around the world

who watch and wait for our command, we stand here today

on this hallowed ground at the edge of greatness.

The light is coming!

Ja!

But just as one man can choose to lead us to victory,

so too can one choose to bring our demise.

Our comrade here has made his choice.

And in the words of our Führer, "If men wish to live--"

"Then they are forced to kill others."

Now no one can stand in our way.

You're Alexis Taylor, American college student getting

your World History degree from Columbia, but you're making

your way through Europe between semesters.

Hmm.

A car will be waiting for you when you land.

It will have everything you need.

Hmm, a pen.

Guess I could stab someone with this.

It's inspired by Havana syndrome.

You press the top-- don't actually press the top.

It emits a frequency that disorients anyone

within earshot.

What happens to me?

When pressed, a small prick will inject a substance-- I know,

temporarily relaxing your cochlear nerve.

That hearing loss will make you immune to the effects.

Hmm.

Montana, you shouldn't have.

It's a blowdart.

The muzzle's on the bottom.

The projectile is a splinter that is coated in an engineered

compound that resembles nitroglycerin.

It pierces the skin, interacts with the iron in the blood,

and reaches critical mass within moments.

-English. -Turn other person into bomb.

Uh, okay.

Seriously, walk--

- Yeah, right, that slaps. - Yeah.

Not normally our style, but I thought you'd like it.

-Eye drops? -Poison.

Baby grenade launcher.

Subvocal detector.

Tiny flashlight.

Signal jammer.

And tiny flashlight.

Hmm.

-Becky? -Huh?

This is your last chance.

Baker's only giving you one more shot.

Oh, well, I'll be sure to send her thank you chocolates

-when I start giving a fuck. -Can you cut the shit?

We get it. The world burned you, you're gonna burn the world.

This is a very tired act.

Oh, this is the part where you tell me you were angry too once

and found a better life on the other side?

No.

This is the part where I tell you that the world doesn't

revolve around you.

What happened to you happened.

It's the least interesting thing about you.

Stop letting it define you.

Hmm.

Come to see me off?

First solo mission and all.

Try not to die.

Aw.

-You'd miss me? -Nope.

Just don't feel like flying all the way to Poland to pick

-up a coffin. -Hmm.

Charming.

Mission Find Out What These Fuckers

Are Up To: commence.

It took all of two seconds for me to figure out

that this place was my own personal hell on earth.

Maybe it was the wolf art.

Or the Bach.

Or the life-size cardboard cutout of Hitler.

Witamy.

Witamy.

-How can I help you? -My name is Alexis Taylor.

I believe I have a reservation for one night.

Luisa!

-Witamy. -Witamy.

Alexis Taylor.

She believes she has a reservation for one night.

-Hm. -I see.

Mother!

Witamy.

Witamy.

Alexis Taylor.

She believes she has a reservation for one night.

Of course.

Let us see.

Here we are.

And will anyone be joining you, or...

No, no, it's just me.

Well then.

Welcome to the Wolf's Lair.

Any questions you may have can be directed to Otto here.

Each night we provide dinner for the guests at 7:00 p.m.

sharp, and curfew is 9:00 p.m.

to 6:00 a.m.

Um, curfew?

For the safety of our guests.

Well, these forest were once littered with landmines.

Unlikely there are any left, but we wouldn't want a pretty thing

like you wandering about and helping us to find out.

Right.

After I dropped my stuff off,

I made my way to the big tourist attraction.

Ah, the Wolf's Lair, Nazi wonderland.

You could smell the desperation for world domination in the air,

and it smelled faintly of cabbage.

Doctor, I was with the General.

Well get on with it.

Come on, let's go. There's a lot more work to be done.

Well, well.

Who do we have here?

Family? Check.

Friends?

Check.

Now where's Wilhelm?

Wait. Who's this?

Who are you?

You another guest here?

I'm sorry.

M-- my English...

Weird choice for a vacation.

Sometimes to move, um, beyond past,

you must face it.

Okay.

Some unexpected elder wisdom.

Would all guests of the Wolf's Lair Inn

please join us at this time for our delicious evening feast.

Thank you.

Guess that's us.

Tell me, Miss Taylor, where do you come from?

Oh, um, New York.

I'm currently studying World History at Columbia.

It's a real passion of mine, dissecting how our past impacts

our present and how our present will impact our future.

Of particular interest to me right now is these leftist

regimes working so hard to overthrow everything

that has always made America so great since its founding.

The old ways have always just felt so, mm, superior.

Well, that's a strong viewpoint you have there.

What about you guys?

Where do you heil from?

Uh, where do we...

Hail from?

We're American.

Father, too.

Mother is German.

Ah.

Okay.

Oh, and how'd you guys end up in Poland?

Father's work.

He, too, is quite passionate about history.

Is that Reich?

Well, I can't wait to meet him.

Will he be joining us tonight?

There he is now.

Ah.

Witamy.

Witamy.

Witamy.

Witamy.

Apologies for our tardiness.

It's been a long day.

We're in the final stages of a little something here

at the lair to improve the state of things,

-you could say. -Ah, exciting.

To put it lightly.

But one must eat, am I right?

Where are my manners?

Hello.

I'm Wilhelm.

My small friend here is Russell.

Ah.

Well, it's so nice to meet you both.

Wilhelm, these are our guests for this evening, Miss Taylor

and Mr. Emmanuel.

Both solo travelers.

Is that right?

Well, we are thrilled to have you both with us.

Oh, Miss Taylor, you don't have any sauerkraut on your plate.

You really must try it.

Um, no.

I-- it's all right. I-- I'm not-- I'm not really--

One for sauerkraut.

Yes, that's what they all say, but this is Luisa's specialty.

You won't regret it.

I insist.

The best I ever had.

Oh.

Uh, well, in that case...

Tell me, Helga, what did we miss?

We were just having a lovely conversation

about Miss Taylor's shared love for history.

Ah, do we have a fellow scholar in our midst?

Uh, no, hardly a scholar, but I can hold my own.

Quick.

What's this?

That's the Valknut.

Very good, Miss Taylor.

A symbol of a slain warriors.

And yet it would appear you still walk among the living.

But willing to perish at any time for the right cause.

Hmm.

I must say I'm impressed.

And where did you learn this history?

Oh, I've just, you know, come across it once

or twice in my studies.

I suppose some back in the States do still teach

appropriate curriculum then.

Helga and I found our children's time at American schools

to be less than satisfactory

Is that a reason for the move?

A contributing factor.

And the other factors?

You know what I think, Miss Taylor?

I think you know exactly why we're here, why we've come

all this way to Herr Wolf's lair.

It must have become fairly obvious to you of all people.

No?

History!

Yeah, yeah, of course

Russell, we should get back to work.

Apologies, children.

We're just so close.

How close?

Tomorrow.

Uh, I-- I forget.

What-- what is it you said you were working on?

I didn't.

It's a pity you won't still be here to find out.

Yes, that reminds me.

Um, I should be going to bed.

I have to head out bright and early tomorrow morning.

Alexis, you still haven't tried your sauerkraut, dear.

Right.

Well, you know, I was going to, but then I thought to myself,

"How good could it be if Mr. Emmanuel's the only one

at the table eating it?" Hmm.

Nighty night.

I don't trust her.

The timing is too convenient, and she smiles too much.

She's young, but not too young.

I want to know who she is.

Stay off the radios.

If the Americans sent another spy, they might be close.

Shut the gates.

Set the blockades.

Miss Taylor, it's Otto and Luisa.

You have to get out of here now.

Listen to us. Our parents,

they're not who they say they are.

But they can't know that we said anything.

I swear on my life, Miss Taylor, you have to trust us.

And why would I trust you?

Because we're telling the truth.

Why don't they ever just eat the fucking sauerkraut?

We don't usually wake our guests after dinner,

but when my men discovered your true identity,

well, I just had to say hello.

I recognized that name immediately.

Becky Hooper of the Hooper Residence, Lake Sinclair.

That little girl who took out all my men

and stole my key all those years ago?

And here you are.

I should have known we'd find ourselves meeting one day.

History has shown time and time again,

take something

from your enemy, something that they love more than anything

in the world, and let them live to tell the tale.

Like a cancer, they will grow.

Why?

Anger, the most powerful force of all.

Five years ago, I instructed Dominick to kill every person

in that lake house.

Outside of your father, he proved to be incapable.

I can assure you of this.

Your father died for an extraordinary cause.

No!

Becky.

Becky, please answer the question.

How did you feel when you watched your father die?

I don't wanna talk about this.

- Becky. - I love you, Becky.

The most powerful force.

Extraordinary cause.

Becky.

If you've finished playing with your food, darling.

Uh, Miss Hooper, I want to congratulate you.

It appears it will be your blood that brings about the next great

chapter in history.

Be careful with her.

She's got spunk.

Hold still. Yeah?

Nein.

They're working on it now.

You'll get the last batch soon.

Access granted.

Access denied.

Access denied.

In today's session,

we will learn to clear the mind and be here.

This is Montana.

There's another bunker underground, off in the forest,

beneath the lair.

We destroyed all those bunkers after the war.

No, not this one.

There's a lab inside, but I can't access it.

Jesus.

There's more.

I just sent over photos of the inn's visitor log,

the highlighted names.

Cross-reference those

with any missing persons over the last six months.

Yeah. Why?

They've been killing guests.

Solo travelers.

Killing them, bleeding them, and then burning their bodies.

They're storing the blood in these temperature-controlled

devices. It's precise.

Th-- they must be using it for some kind of experiment.

Okay. Agent, your job is done.

I need you to leave the lair immediately and head to Langley.

There will be a plane waiting for you on the tarmac.

I'm going to kill him, Montana.

Whoa. What? What?

Sorry, what?

I'm going to kill him, his family, his men,

and anyone else that stands in my way.

Becky, listen to me.

You were right before, about things being bigger than me.

Wilhelm Reuss is responsible for my dad's death.

He's responsible for everything that's happened to me

since the day I found that fucking key.

That's reason enough, but that's not why I have to do this.

The things this man and his followers are capable of,

the pain they will cause if they succeed, I can't walk away

from here if there's even the slightest possibility of

that happening.

If you go rogue, I cannot protect you.

We will contact the Polish authorities.

They will initiate military action.

You will become collateral damage.

Do you understand that?

Thank you for believing in me, Montana.

Becky--

Maybe Baker had a point.

Becky.

Maybe I was just a killing machine.

But when it comes to killing Nazis, maybe that ain't such

a bad thing.

We've got a problem.

Charles, I'm gonna have to call you back.

Please come in.

There's a lab underneath the Wolf's Lair.

That's the heat signature.

They've got heavy machinery, and because we know who Wilhelm's

father is, we can assume it's a chemical weapon.

Of course.

Did you direct Hooper to return?

Yes, but--

She refused.

Ma'am, we need to contact the Polish authorities

who can get in touch with the necessary parties,

and we've gotta get her out of there.

Thank you, Agent Montana.

You're excused. I can take it from here.

Maybe I didn't make myself clear.

I'm talking about World War fucking III.

The word war implies a victor.

And if the intel is correct, it wouldn't be a war.

It would be mass extinction.

Would you care to explain to me why you're not doing

your fucking job?

I've already done it.

I did it when I assigned Agent Hooper to this mission.

I don't understand.

I always thought her anger

was a sign of weakness in the field,

but you were right.

She is invaluable.

Perhaps the greatest assassin the CIA has ever had.

And then it dawned on me, "Why create panic and send

in the cavalry when I can just send in Becky?"

How long until you reach the target?

57 minutes.

Get her out.

This is Kate Montana.

I need the Director of National Intelligence.

There once was a girl, a very angry girl,

hellbent on slaughtering some Nazis.

When she was good...

Oh, she was never really good.

And when she was bad...

Well, let's just say you cunts are fucked.

Get the kids.

Find her. Kill her.

But General, the perfusion.

Let me handle it.

We need the blood, Wilhelm.

Go!

Much better.

We split up.

Let's hunt.

Access granted.

Slight delay with the last blood donor,

I'm off to prepare for the meeting with the Brothers.

We will be ready, General.

Metal detected.

There's the trap.

Now, where's the mouse?

Aha.

Perfect.

It's her.

That's right.

Follow me.

I saw her first.

This isn't calling shotgun, you idiot.

You don't get to kill her just because you saw her first.

Plus, Mom and Dad aren't just gonna let you kill someone.

You're a fetus.

We're Nazis, dumbass.

Who cares how old we are?

Fine.

We'll split up.

Whoever finds her gets to kill her.

What if she kills me first?

That's a risk I'm willing to take.

Wait, don't shake it.

Just pull it.

I got it. I got it.

Just put it down and I'll-- let...

Whoa. Wait. Wait. Wait. Almost there.

Okay, okay.

We're short.

They were supposed to bring more blood.

Got it?

Yeah.

Perfect.

Um, which one of you is the brains behind this,

uh, operation?

Oh, uh, that would be me, Doctor.

Media and Performing Arts major, Ohio State.

Drain him.

Please.

Yes, sir.

- Doctor? - Yeah.

How long until you're ready?

Momentarily, General.

Russell, I expect the girl is dead by now.

Any minute, General.

Keep going.

Oh, fuck.

And that's why you don't leave landmines lying around.

Otto?

Sorry.

You almost killed me.

Did you hear the blast?

Yes.

Where is your sister?

Drone returning home.

Nice toy.

Close one.

So close.

You even know how to use that thing?

Hitler Youth camp.

They still have those in Germany?

Mississippi.

You know, I'm part Jewish, on my mom's side.

Figures.

Thought I smelled kik--

You just had to say it.

This chatter is insane, and we haven't even gone live.

Over 14 countries already.

This thing is gonna blow up.

Desired temperature reached.

Desired temperature reached.

Desired temperature reached.

Desired temperature reached.

It's time.

Start the countdown.

Yes, sir.

The Brothers are starting to enter the chat.

Gentlemen, our hour of glory is almost upon us.

The countdown to a new world order has begun.

Activate all your bots, your sleeper agents.

Fix the algorithms.

Let's get this trending.

Russell, I'm giving you one final chance

to come in before I come up there

and get the job done myself.

Do you copy?

It's the intercom.

Let's go!

Switch.

Unless that's exactly what she wants us to do.

She's a girl, Otto.

She's not that smart.

Go.

Fuck.

Otto?

False alarm.

My bad!

One more time and I'm taking that thing away from you.

Yeah. Right.

Wait!

Hunter's Brew and Oppie's Song.

Where they're mixed as one is where you belong.

Jägerbomb.

Hmm.

I knew that somewhere deep, deep, deep down

under all that fascism, you had some brains.

Hmm.

Care to share a drink?

Where are my children?

Mmm.

I will answer your question.

But first, you're gonna tell me everything

you, your cock-sucking hubby, and his shit-tard compadres

are doing down in that little lab of theirs.

What lies in the chamber beneath us is proof that we never went

anywhere, that we have been hiding in plain sight amongst

all of you.

That we are the most resilient species of all,

and that we will be the last ones standing.

Hmm.

Pretty sure you just described a cockroach.

Where are my children?

Ah, right.

Hmm.

So I've been working through these in my head,

and I think they're pretty good.

But let's start with Russell.

I'm very proud of that one.

His soul is in danger, it has crossed a line.

One step gone wrong.

He is on a...

Landmine.

Hey!

Very, very good.

Although I did hear what sounded like a kaboom

a little bit earlier.

So that ship has sailed.

Shall we move to Otto?

I have no teeth, but quite a bite.

When I open up, I shine a light.

Though Otto's plans I may have foiled, keep with me

and he'll be far less spoiled.

He's in the freezer.

You're good.

Still alive?

I'd say he's got a solid hour.

Then continue.

Hmm.

Luisa.

Brace yourself.

This one's my favorite.

Not wearing her top, a void instead.

Can't think, blink, or drink, your daughter is without her...

Now how about a toast to a game well-played?

You didn't actually think I'd be stupid enough to drink the one

you poured, did you?

You should have.

Because that's the one I poisoned.

Huh.

Get up.

You're too late, you know.

There's nothing you can do to stop us.

Just shut up and walk.

Hey.

I found her!

Whoa.

Who's that?

Fuck.

Come on, Hooper.

We're going home.

The Poles will be swarming this place any minute.

We have to leave now.

You go home.

I'm not going anywhere.

Something funny?

Both are you are so stupid.

Neither of you are getting out of here alive.

Shit.

Well, you two know how to put on quite a show.

And I love a good show.

Your wife and daughter are dead.

And that guy over there.

Your son's gonna be next if you don't surrender.

Really?

You're going to shoot a child, and while all of these guns

are aimed at you?

Hmm.

Otto, come.

You okay?

Good.

You act so tough, Becky Hooper, but you continue to make

the same fatal mistake.

You assume we all care for our families the same way

that you care for yours.

My family proved today that they were weak.

There's no room for weakness, not this time.

Breaking news.

A live stream is going viral across the internet

with a countdown leading to, what is being described as,

and I can't believe I'm saying this in the 21st century,

the launch of the Fourth Reich.

There are currently over 100 million devices

around the world--

Tuned into this live stream across various platforms.

- What? - Come here.

We'll be keeping an eye on the live feed.

But a warning to viewers, we have no idea what to expect

when the countdown hits zero, and the stream goes live.

Well, I hope you're happy.

I just got off the phone with the President of the goddamn

fucking United States of America.

He made me look like a complete jackass.

Yeah. One of us had to do our job.

Pack your shit, Montana.

You're finished at the CIA.

You sent one of our own on a suicide mission under false

pretenses, and you neglected to inform the intelligence

community of a global threat!

I am the intelligence community.

Not for long.

...about where this feed might be originating from,

and how it went viral so fast.

Hey, easy.

Stay there.

Hey, neighbor.

Hooper?

How's your cell?

Cozy.

Hmm, same here.

There has to be some way out.

There's a dead guy in here, a Nazi, upside down.

Yeah, let me guess, drained of blood?

It has to do with the weapon.

I just sent over the intel.

Becky, the Director set you up.

She was using you.

She wanted you to do what you always do.

That's why she sent you alone.

But-- but you came for me.

My directive was clear: extraction.

If the CIA has the intel you say it does,

NATO has probably given the Poles permission to bomb

this place to hell.

And that's the best-case scenario for us.

Worst case?

Ending up like our upside-down friend over here.

I have an idea.

How's your core strength?

It's time.

What happened to him?

My guess?

Cyanide.

Pussy.

You feel better?

Move.

Welcome, Jenna.

What do you make of all this?

Thanks for having me.

Here's what we know so far from dark web chatter.

As you requested, sir .

Coming in now.

Well, their algorithms tend to favor

far-right...

Where's the other one?

Dead, sir. Cyanide.

Lucky man.

You, Becky Hooper, on the other hand, enjoy this moment.

It'll be one of your last.

Get on with it.

10 seconds, sir.

Are you ready, Doctor?

Yes, General.

Let's make history.

And I'm getting word we're going to be broadcasting

this thing live.

Again, to our viewers, discretion is advised.

Good day, brothers and sisters around the globe.

My name is Dr. Friedrich Alwin Metzger,

and on behalf of General Wilhelm Reuss,

I come to you today a humble servant of the Reich.

What you are about to witness is a moment 80 years in the making.

Today, we restore the course of history.

Today, we return our race,

the master race,

to its rightful

place atop the global order.

Because...

today...

we resurrect our Führer.

Did he just say...

Yes.

Yes, he did.

Uh, Heil Hitler.

It was worth a shot.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Little small for the master race, no?

No, no, no, no. Oh, shit.

We've lost the feed,

but it does appear that Hitler is dead again.

It's time for Plan C.

What is happening?

This can't be.

A lifetime of work.

No!

No!

Fuck this.

No.

Please, I-- I was just following orders.

Hmm, that you were.

- Becky!

Tag...

You're it.

Rigby!

Becky.

You witnessed your father die.

How did it feel?

Like the world was on fire.

Looks like your friends are here.

Maybe this is the end of the road for both of us.

Three generations of tireless planning, you naive little girl.

Everyone thinks that their way is the right way.

That they know the truth.

That the other side is so pitifully lost in the dark.

But what if we were the truth?

What if the light was on our side?

What if you were all wrong?

Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?

You should be thanking me.

I'm about to reunite you with your family.

No, my family's someplace good.

You and me...

...we're going to hell.

Fair enough.

You were right.

Order was restored to the world today.

Today...

we ended everything you and your backwards band of

fuckwits wasted decades of your lives on.

Today we returned your kind back to their rightful place

in the shadows.

Today we killed ourselves some Nazis.

How was that for a closing monologue?

Looks like mine was more effective.

Now who's the cunt?

Were you aware of Director Baker's

intentions when she deployed Agent Hooper to the Wolf's Lair?

Not exactly, no.

Uh, what I perceived to be Director Baker's intentions

were entirely in line with the investigation

we had been carrying out for years.

And it wasn't until one of our agents was compromised

that I confronted her and I found out that we were not

carrying out a basic recon mission.

And that's when you became aware of the information that Baker

had been withholding from her superiors?

That's correct, yes.

I told Director Baker I believed she was making a grave mistake.

I went back to my office

and I immediately contacted Director Bullock.

According to our records, you made a call prior to contacting

Director Bullock.

Isn't that right?

- Yes, sir. - To whom?

Agent Jordan Rigby.

And who was it that gave you

authorization to send Agent Rigby to Poland?

I wasn't given authorization, sir.

If you were in fact

under the impression that a standard recon mission

was being conducted,

why did you feel the need to have another agent in the field?

Sir, Becky Hooper was my responsibility.

I believed that she was being sent into the lion's den

without appropriate backup.

So I did what I thought was best for the safety of my agents.

Given how things turned out,

would you say that what you did resulted in what was best

for the safety of your agents?

My agents believed in something bigger than themselves

and they laid their lives on the line.

That's the job.

That wasn't the question.

Their actions resulted in what was best for the safety of

the nation, and all nations around the globe.

Agent Montana,

please answer what was asked of you.

Did your actions result in what was best

for the safety of your agents?

No, sir.

May I ask a question?

Yes, go ahead.

Was Becky Hooper's body ever recovered?

No, it was not.