Original subtitles

Where is the surgical instruments kit that the Professor gave us?

-There is a scalpel over there. -Berlin has got it.

The surgeons! Go and steal the instruments from them. Hurry!

Okay.

Wait!

Give him the note, please.

SATURDAY 06:31 PM

HOUR 33 OF THE HEIST

What?

Sometimes on TV there are people like you.

Like me, like what?

Heist men.

But you don't look like one. I can tell this isn't your thing.

Why?

The way you hold the rifle.

I thought you were the ambassador's daughter, not Rambo's.

Well, my father always wanted to have a son

and since I was five years old he’s been taking me shooting.

Shooting? What at?

At sticks in the funfair?

At wild hogs, red deer,

antelopes...

But what my father would like is to hunt ecologists.

But I don't like guns.

Once, in Norwich...

the rifle of my father's friend went off.

I saw everything.

The shot in his back, the people screaming...

It's like...

when you see an accident on the road and it gets stuck in your head, the...

blood stain.

Anyway...

It's not loaded, okay?

Don't be scared.

What do you think, doctor?

Will I make it?

The bullet is located...

in the clavicle.

It's not touching any vital organs

and I can't see any...

bone fragments.

No one is going to die from this.

Let's get going.

Denver had no time for diagnoses.

-Anaesthesia. -Monica was losing a lot of blood.

If he didn't take the scalpels soon,

having spared her life would be in vain.

What kind of anaesthesia will you use?

In this cases like this it's better to use total sedation.

No.

Better to use local anaesthesia.

So my friend and I can chat during the surgery, can't we, Arturito?

Relax.

Okay, that's it.

And that clock, what's it for?

To control the duration of the local anaesthesia, 25 minutes.

If anything should go wrong during the surgery,

we should give him one more dose.

Show the clock on the screen.

That operation was scheduled

and had to last exactly 25 minutes as the inspector had ordered.

That countdown would allow two police men wearing masks of Dalí inside the factory

or, if it went wrong, two dead bodies inside the ventilation ducts.

Drop the fucking rifle.

It's not loaded, drop it before I get really pissed off.

The bullet in the breech.

Suarez, do you read me?

Duct clear.

We're moving towards the target.

Turn around and put your hands behind your head.

Now!

Now!

So.

What now? Not so tough now, are you?

C'mon, for fuck's sake!

Shoot now.

You fucking crazy little girl. On your knees!

Scalpel.

Stop. It’s me who gives the arms out here.

Scalpel.

You nailed it earlier on, didn't you, Arturo?

Changing your wife's name.

Of course, it's normal.

Fornicating in the mornings with Monica,

spending the afternoons with Laura...

It's normal to get confused.

But I love them both.

That’s the truth.

When you're in my situation, it's very easy to judge. Everyone...

thinks you're a scoundrel,

a son of a bitch.

Far be it from me, to make moral judgments.

I can understand everything.

You can talk freely about anything with me.

But, in fact I’m a wretch,

a poor man who is in love with two women

and who hasn't got the guts, to choose one of them.

And in the middle of that infidelity declaration,

Denver got the scalpel he needed,

and the love note Monica had thrown into the sea disappeared

or almost because Nairobi,

always paying close attention to detail, spotted it.

-What the fuck did you do that for? -I don't know, I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

To the ground!

-You're 11 metres from the entrance. -Copy that.

We're proceeding.

Fucking little spoiled brat!

-I'm sorry. -Shut the fuck up!

Don't tell me your life story, okay?

I'm not the fucking friend of the outcast, understood?

If you're begging for your kidnapper's friendship, you're so screwed.

Do you know...?

I'm only six weeks pregnant and...

I'm more concerned about the kid's life than my own.

You need more than an infection

to stop children from taking on the world, my dear.

Listen, what's your name?

Moscow, they call me Moscow.

Listen, Moscow,

and what's it like...

being...?

I mean, being a parent.

Being a parent...

You see, being a parent means that all of a sudden a pile of problems

falls right on your shoulders and also for the rest of your life.

In a few words, being worried for the rest of your life.

First, it's the baby's colds.

That means you'll be in the emergency room every weekend

instead of going for a drink.

I don't mind, I don't drink.

You don’t know what you’re missing, you don't know how good a Pacharán feels

when you leave him there sleeping in his cot.

And then there's school.

The fear...

that all parents feel of...

your son being the dummy and the punching bag in his class.

I mean, what’s known as "bullying" now.

The fact is that in my case...

it was my son who did the beating.

He was being expelled all the time.

I can’t tell how many schools he went to, that...

And then his mum, poor her, she had her bad habits...

Well, not "poor her".

She dumped me there, on my own...

Ready for whatever comes.

Because in the end, all you want is...

him to be normal,

him not to end up on a corner, smoking joints

instead of going to school.

But being a parent...

is good. It's very...

Hey, no! Monica, stay with me!

Look at me! Stay with me, darling.

-Come on, look at me! -Dad!

-That's it. -What's wrong?

Nothing, it's okay.

-Yes? -Her temperature is too high.

No, don't stop looking at me. Look at me, that's it.

I've got everything with me.

Five minutes left for the doctors to come out.

Copy that.

It’s out.

Thanks.

And now you stitch him up.

Who, me?

Yes, you.

You're a nurse, aren't you?

Yes, I am.

So, then.

It's local anaesthesia.

We put it on the wound and in a jiffy... no pain.

There I go.

Come on, let me do it.

-You keep checking her pulse. -Right.

There we go... Done, now, that’s it.

Do you know what I'm going to do when... I get out of here?

I'm going to study, distance learning.

You haven't studied in your whole life.

I'm not saying that I'll study medicine, but I'll...

take it up where I left it, you know?

This is going to hurt a little more, okay?

Look. Oh!

Done.

-Right, done. -Done.

Done. Now, in five minutes it'll start working and...

we'll start to open up, okay?

-Come on. -Okay.

You're within two metres of the entrance.

We can visualize the target.

Let's see...

I'm not feeling well. I think I'm going to be sick.

Are you a nurse, a ballet dancer? What the fuck is wrong with you?

I'm a nurse,

but I'm not used to working surrounded by guns.

That's enough. I'll stitch him up.

But I want everyone to remain silent please.

Come on, start.

Tweezers.

The Professor wants to speak to you.

All right. Take the nurse to the toilet so he can vomit.

If he doesn't, put his head inside the loo until he does it.

Do you hear me? Until he does.

Good bye, Arturo.

Come on.

Walk.

They're broadcasting on short wave and it's encrypted, so they're getting in,

-but I don't know from where. -Copy, I’m moving to plan B.

Okay and get the medical team out of there.

Now.

My darling, be strong. I'm fine. I love you. Monica.

Deputy Inspector Angel knew in less than a second

that they had lost another battle.

Those sinister masks meant that they’re going to throw

two men to the wolves.

Also that the guy who had planned that robbery

was smarter and had more imagination than the police,

the CNI and the Intervention Unit,

and when they're well ahead of you,

it's time to run.

We have to leave now.

Miss, excuse me, we're done here. Can we go now, please?

-Yes. -Yes?

No problem.

You, follow me.

Doctor!

Just one moment.

One minute, 30 seconds.

-What's wrong? -They have frequency inhibitors.

Suarez, do you copy?

They've installed frequency inhibitors.

I think communication will be lost.

Do you read me?

There are frequency inhibitors. We're losing communication.

Suarez.

How did the surgery go?

Well, but we should come back in 24 hours.

Thank you for your interest, but, for the post-op

we have enough qualified people.

My friend, the nurse... Are you feeling better now?

-Yes, yes, thanks. -I'm glad to hear.

Excuse me if I can't see you off, but I leave you in good hands.

Good bye.

-Good bye. -Good bye.

Give our regards to the people outside!

-Did you tell Arturo that I'm fine? -Sorry?

Did you tell Arturo that I'm alive?

Yes. No... I didn't tell him.

-Did you or you didn’t? -I gave him the note.

And what did he say?

Damn, he was overjoyed, what was he supposed to say? That...

-Go on. -That...

-That he loves you very much. -What else?

He said that...

That when you two get out of here, he's going to take you to Australia.

To Australia?

Yes.

I can't see it.

He also told me that he doesn't know what you saw in him to like him.

-To Australia? -Yes, Australia.

It's his wife's dream destination.

Besides, Arturo knows I'm scared of flying.

What happened? His wife went in with the doctors?

-Has Laura been here? -No.

-Yes. -He told her on the phone.

-Suarez! -Command post, do you read me?

Command post, do you read me?

Shit.

Inspector, the surgeons are coming out.

Don't stop.

Don't stop.

Run now.

Run now! Hurry!

Come on, out!

Angel is running in. Something’s gone wrong.

Abort! They've changed their face masks.

They're not wearing the Dalí ones. They're going straight to the slaughter.

What?

Listen up, do not go in.

Suarez, do you read me?

Target reached.

We're proceeding to remove the flap and we'll be in.

What are you doing?

A bullet.

A bullet wound.

Gosh, Moscow! You're making a big mess! Move away.

-Then something unexpected happened. -Let me do it.

Nairobi did her best and used her meticulousness for the greater good.

Instead of telling on them, she helped Moscow save Monica's life.

I'm going to get some fresh air.

-Or at least her leg. -For fuck's sake!

She really hadn't come to kill anyone.

-Damn, come on! -And as I told you before,

she wasn't going to let anything screw the Professor's plan.

Suarez, do you read me?

They have changed their face masks.

There are some interferences. Command post, do you copy me? I can't hear you.

They're not wearing the Dalí face masks! It's a fucking suicide.

Do not go in, I repeat, do not go in!

It's an order!

They have changed their masks. They're not wearing the Dalí face masks.

Attention, do you read me?

Do not go in!

-We're aborting the operation. -Damn!

We're aborting the operation.

Berlin, everyone can relax now.

Plan B has worked as planned. They're withdrawing.

Hidden behind a metallic voice with his cameras and his strategy

negotiating a robbery, the Professor was in his element.

The rest of things in life were alien to him.

Both so different as Clark Kent and Superman.

Perhaps because he had spent his childhood and youth

lying on a bed at San Juan de Dios hospital of San Sebastián

talking just with senior nurses and reading books.

He was neither a ordinary nor a very sociable fellow.

And much less the seducer type.

Can I sit down?

Yes, sure.

So I loved making him feel nervous.

So, when you're not planning a heist, what do you do?

You mean in my spare time or something like that?

Do you go dancing or...?

Not at all. I don't have the slightest sense of rhythm.

Have you got a girlfriend?

Married?

We agreed on no personal information.

You're not a virgin, are you?

I've been in some relationships.

Several.

Not a whole lot and they didn't last long, but I've had a few.

Relationships... I mean...

sporadic relations.

I don't mean with prostitutes, don't misunderstand me.

Well, I don't know, you may be gay.

For God's sake... No.

No, it just hasn't happened.

I'm not inside any closet or anything of that sort.

People find a lot of things sexy.

Dancing, muscles, fair hair,

a French accent...

Do you know what I find sexy?

Intelligence.

Men who speak to you and you can't help admiring them.

It doesn't matter whether they are tall, short, ugly, good-looking...

It turns me on when they talk to me about things I don't know.

Well, this peculiarity is registered in dictionaries,

it's called sapiophilia.

You know everything, don't you?

Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see the blast off.

One thing.

How did you come up with the idea of this heist?

It wasn't me who had the idea.

And who did?

It wasn't me.

That sapiophilia thing sounds to me like fucking a toad.

-Who the fuck were those face masks of? -I don't know.

Their mouth was open kind of, as in distress.

Like, I don't know, "The Scream" from Munch. That one.

Munch, the Expressionist painter!

Dalí, Munch... Which will be the next one?

You don't know how happy it makes me to hear that question, inspector.

If you had to change it, which painter would you choose?

I don't know... Picasso, perhaps?

Goya.

Goya.

Velázquez.

Velázquez...

Da Vinci. Yes, with a beard.

I like it, a beard.

Andy Warhol.

-The soup guy? -Andy Warhol?

Angel.

Yes, Andy Warhol, the one who painted Marilyn.

He's a painter...

a very well-known, iconic painter.

The hair and the glasses.

Angel, you're full of surprises.

Full of surprises with a microphone in your glasses.

They could change the face masks every day

for a month and we wouldn't be able to ever be ahead of them.

But that's not the crux of the matter, inspector, and you know it.

But that's what matters. What matters is

how the fuck did they know we were inside?

How long did they spend studying all our next steps precisely?

If I'm honest with you, half of my life.

How long do they expect to be inside there?

Not long, only nine more days. Ten, eleven the longest.

We're playing a fucking game of chess,

and they're beating us.

But I have a Trojan horse, inspector. You have little chance to beat me.

It's time to think carefully...

look back,

go back to the starting point.

We all know this started long time ago.

We know that those who are inside had been there before.

We have footage of Cortes and Oliveira entering the museum.

But did they enter alone?

Was it the first time or the last one?

How many times did they visit it?

Did they speak to anyone? A sign, a look...

And, more important, did they leave any fucking string to pull?

I want you to go through the CCTV footage again

and check them second by second.

The rest of us will try to rest.

Some of you haven't slept for over 30 hours.

Suarez, give me a call if anything happens.

You're in command.

Affray in Marcelo Usera, any unit near by?

Please,

leave channel eight free for the hostage crisis!

Do not use channel eight, thank you!

Listen, Raquel. Fancy a bite before going home?

Between eating and sleeping, I'd choose the former, but...

I'm worn out, Angel.

I’m sorry, thanks.

Have you ever thought that if you could go back in time

you probably wouldn't make the same decisions?

We all make our own snowballs with our bad decisions,

snowballs that get bigger and bigger, like the rock in Indiana Jones,

that slide down after you and squash you.

All the decisions we made in the past

they take us inexorably to our future.

Rio was going to realize that

as soon as he switched on the only television left in the factory,

in case at any point we lost communication with the Professor.

Turn it on, kid! See what they say about us.

This is bigger than the Great Train Robbery from Glasgow!

A yet unknown number of heist men gained access...

What do the heist men want?

This is a big one!

Do they want to hit the system?

My goodness! Not even the Americans could have done it!

This is made in Spain but with M-16! Beat it!

Gosh, my parents!

An adolescent...

a bit of a weirdo...

-Shy... -Shy.

Our son was always locked in his room,

but we thought he was playing computer games or...

One never thinks that he could be a criminal.

And then... you see him on TV shooting a rifle...

and 60 people are locked up.

-And you see he's like those jihadists. -Paco...

He isn't your son anymore.

Please, don't say that.

For me... For me it's like he was dead.

But, Paco...

We have just heard the words of one of the parents, heartbroken...

The Professor said no news from outside.

But he had also said he wanted a heist with no blood,

with no violence.

Angel, yes.

Hello, Raquel.

Were you sleeping?

No, what's the matter?

No. Nothing, relax.

Look, I’ve been thinking. Have you got a minute?

Give her a rest, man, she must be worn out.

Yes, sure, yes.

Sorry to be so direct.

What was all that about Andy Warhol?

-Sorry? -That, about being full of surprises.

What's wrong with me, I'm not supposed to like museums or modern painters?

I'm not supposed to like something other than the Atleti?

Yes, of course you are.

It took me by... surprise, because I didn't know.

I didn't know you were an Atleti supporter either.

-But it suits me, doesn't it? -Yes, it does.

Yes, it does.

Listen, Angel, I'm really tired. Can we speak tomorrow?

The guy I saw you with at the cafe, you were holding hands.

Would you sleep with him?

Tell me, I want to know.

Angel, what's all this about now?

Would you sleep with him, yes or no?

Answer me.

Well, yes, I would, why not?

I'm a free, 40 year-old woman,

and the truth is that I could do with a good bang,

to... have something different to think about.

So I surely would.

And, so what?

I understand.

You would give a chance to a nobody. I understand.

Angel...

What happened between you and me in Cercedilla was a fling.

Eight years have passed and, look,

I made a clean break because we're colleagues.

And friends, Raquel.

And friends.

-And you're married, Angel. -I'm married.

Because you said it wouldn't work between colleagues.

Then you got married, and on top of that with a colleague.

And because you never see me like... a winner, you always see me

like the loser who is not... supposed to like Andy Warhol.

But if for a moment you would see me as a man,

I promise you it would take me less than ten minutes to leave Carmen...

Forgive me. Raquel, I’m sorry. Damn, I don't know what I'm saying anymore.

It's this... job, which is driving us mad.

Yes, that's true, all of us.

Angel, it's late. Go to bed, okay? We'll talk tomorrow.

Good night, Raquel.

Good night.

Who were you talking to?

I can't believe you were spying on me.

I couldn't help overhear the conversation.

Go to sleep, it's late.

Too late. Now, I can't sleep.

Let's see, tell me, what's wrong now?

-What? -Two suitors.

He's not a suitor, it's Angel, a colleague.

I thought you were making him feel jealous

with the stranger in the bar, the one from the beers.

Please, mum, I wasn't making him jealous!

You... don't close any doors.

And now that you're not married, you can go around playing the field.

-Playing the field. Of course. -Yes, playing the field.

Kido, in the end love is...

what makes us see life in a different way.

And you lately just see the dark side of everything.

It may mean that you haven't got over... all that.

Let's see, mum, what haven't I got over?

Do you also think I pressed false charges?

And I'm bitter because my ex got involved with my sister

and I want to screw them?

Your husband got involved with your sister?

Mum, what are you saying?

-What? -Nothing. Yes...

I just wanted to play it down.

In the end that man has hooked up with two sisters

like in the films...

those erotic ones.

Mum, are you okay?

How are you getting on with the heist, darling?

Not well...

There, sitting all day,

in a stagnant situation, and...

But you sitting, my darling?

What you have to do is to chase.

You only catch bad guys when you chase them. As if you didn't know.

Good night, darling.

What a nice surprise!

You should come around more often.

I can see you have a very cute little office.

-You already have two. -I like offices.

I have always...

wanted to have one with a mahogany desk,

but crime and offices don't get along.

It's hot, isn't it?

I can see you're wearing your bullet proof vest to come to see me.

I'd have preferred a corset, a Venetian one.

You see?

I can't quite get you.

Why did you come, Tokyo?

To ask you

please

to phone the Professor

and tell him what you did,

that you order the execution of a hostage.

Naughty boy.

Because you know what?

The Professor is my guardian angel,

and if you don't tell him, I'll have to do it.

You?

Then you'll be a tattletale.

a snitch, a filthy rat.

I'm a gentleman, I wouldn't allow that to happen.

Yes.

I violated the first rule of the plan.

I’ve killed a hostage.

Well not exactly me, Denver has, but that's not important.

Let's say he did it strictly following my orders.

I preferred to tell you myself.

It was the only red line.

You've screwed everything up.

I understand your shock.

You've screwed everything up.

That woman had a mobile phone between her legs.

She might have wanted to use it to phone her cousin Chelito...

and tell her she was shagging the CEO,

but I actually think she wanted to phone the police.

No more phones in the future. You can be sure of that.

Who was she?

Monica Gaztambide.

Will you punish me?

You should.

I know you're an idealist,

that you think they will give us the banknotes if we ask politely,

that you want to be a decent guy, while you give us guns and explosives

to blow this building up, but no more games.

You'll have to punish me,

because if you don't have the guts, we won't succeed.

I've told you on and on over the past years:

it's not me who has a problem, it's you.

You'll have to punish me so I'll know you are a real captain

who is at the helm with no doubt,

that you're dependable.

It seems you don't want to talk about it now.

Currently, nobody outside knows about this demise,

so the plan is on.

They'll ask for proofs of life in less than 48 hours.