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"CLASH"

We're finally ready to get started, here at the Olympic Stadium in Berlin,

at the World Cup qualifier between Germany and Turkey.

Increased security measures have led to a delay in kick-off tonight,

and I hear there are still around a thousand fans at the gates.

But there's no need to wait any longer.

It has been decided

that the game will finally now start.

This afternoon, the German team was dealt a heavy blow,

with news that their top player, Orkan Erdem,

wouldn't be able to play because of health reasons.

But that can't be used as an excuse.

The German team is the undisputed favorite.

It will be a surprise if they don't triumph today.

And?

A dead Kanack was found at the towers last night.

No one knows anything.

Not even the press.

I talked to everyone. It wasn't one of us.

Our police contacts have their lips sealed.

Well, now we've got an in at the top.

Looks like it's time for Ulf to deliver.

Unbelievably, the German team starts hesitantly.

They'll have to try not to lose their authority in front of these crowds.

In Berlin, with the largest number of Turks outside Turkey...

Seiler? Yes? Where are you?

That was clearly the first bad pass.

Straight past the disastrous defense.

And that in a game like this!

Man! What is he doing?

Come on, come on.

Rooting for the Kanacks?

If Turkey wins, Kurt wins. And we get our money back.

Around here, you better show them what side you're really on.

Oh, fuck! Shit!

GERMANY

Say that again. Sorry. Where are you?

In the Association lounge? Yes, okay. See you there.

It's time to bring some calm into the game.

The Germans are organizing the play.

Their technique and stamina is far superior,

and it's what they need right now.

Hey!

-Fuck you, asshole. -Clean it or spend tonight at the station.

-Don't you pigs have better things to do? -Sure, lots.

Why annoy innocent citizens?

Berlin's my home. Do you let your dog crap at home?

Go on, pick it up.

Hey, they're finally letting more in. We'll miss the match!

Mehmet is under attack from Henderson.

When's Dad coming? He'll miss the game.

Listen, you two.

I'll tell Dad what happened today with your grandma, okay?

Yeah?

But until then, it's our secret.

I've never given anyone a gift like this. This is just for you.

They knew I deal for you guys, but they still didn't let me in.

They don't give a shit about Tarik-Amir. They have no respect.

I'll look into it, okay?

Look into what? He's got no respect.

He talks shit like: "Go fuck yourself, Tarik-Amir".

-I'll send someone over. -No, I will.

You. You do it yourself, right after the game.

And you teach those sons of bitches how to behave.

Nobody talks shit about Tarik-Amir, huh?

Thanks, brother.

Hakim, I wanted to keep it low key. I don't want more hassle with the cops.

Not after yesterday.

Get me a Coke, little brother.

-What? -Coke. With ice.

Got a problem with that?

Yallah.

It's okay.

Private party.

-We're invited. -Sure, Kovac. Get out of here.

Are you deaf? We. Are. Invited.

Man, are you deaf? Fuck off!

It's okay, big guy. I invited him.

-Hi, Tomo. -Hey.

Hakim didn't know I was coming.

I can invite who I want. It's none of his business.

Little brother wants to take over the Tarik-Amir clan...

Bullshit.

What's your brother doing here with Kovac?

We'll see.

You invite me to Hakim's fiancée's birthday?

-That's an insult to a boss. -No, it's just business.

-You want to take over. -No, I want to make a deal with you.

I can't make a deal unless I know what's going on, so...

Say it.

-Fine. -Okay. Wait.

Wait.

Here's the deal. Tarik-Amir has one simple rule.

Whoever brings in the most money is the boss.

And what I want to do with you

will make me more money than Hakim can ever earn from drugs.

Do you understand? My time has come, man.

-Okay. -So, can we talk business now?

Sure. In a minute.

Hey, what the fuck, man?

A simple rule in the Kovac clan: Show respect to those who earn it.

Hakim!

Long time no see.

I wish your wife a successful future,

good health, strength, and many children.

-Kamila. Hello. -Pleased to meet you. Tomo Kovac.

Here's a little something.

Happy Birthday.

You're too kind.

So you're a friend of Kareem's?

Yes.

Yes, I think you can say that...

A friend of Kareem's.

Thanks for coming. See you later.

See you later.

-That was rude. -I don't give a shit.

What the fuck was that, man?

Now we can talk business.

Okay.

Everything is upside down tonight.

And Turkey is still on the attack. Far too passive.

And the Germans are making things unnecessarily hard for themselves.

Are you too stupid to kick a ball? Damn it!

-Don't worry, it won't stain. -It's fine.

-We made it. -About time.

This is Maïssa and Murad.

-Hi. -I'm Guido.

Hi.

Those tickets were for my clients. Where are they?

-Can we discuss this at home? -With pleasure.

Okay. Fries and a Coke? My treat.

I'm fine.

Diet Coke for me, please.

-You? -No, thanks.

-Murad, will you help me? -I said I didn't want anything.

What happened to you?

Sports injury.

The food is invitation only.

Shall I put it back?

I got Bandlow's approval. You're leading the Erdem investigation.

Great. I already have a suspect.

The betting mafia.

He was paid to fix matches?

Maybe he didn't stick to the deal, so they got rid of him.

Who? Who got rid of him?

Only the Kovac clan has the balls to do that.

-They'll give me trouble. -Do you need a security detail?

Maybe.

Well, you can discuss all that with your partner.

What?

You'll be leading the investigation with another detective.

-Dual leadership. -You're kidding, right?

A very competent Turkish officer.

I don't need a babysitter. Even less a Turkish one.

What do you expect, given your past?

If the press gets wind of it, they'll dub you the "neo-Nazi",

and both of us can say goodbye to our jobs.

Have I ever screwed you over, man? Or done anything like that?

I'm not your "man", Mr. Grimmer.

Think of him as a lightning rod.

If you don't like it, give up the case.

I put my neck on the line for you and you just walk away?

Relax, Mr. Seiler.

I just need to digest the news.

We keep out of your drug business.

You keep out of our betting business.

Everybody's happy. So why am I here?

We could earn twice as much together.

I have sportsmen willing to fix matches.

Our families have been at peace for five years.

You've got the necessary setup.

Casinos, arcades, betting shops, a global network...

But I have the right connections.

Kareem Tarik-Amir, the man with the connections.

We'll provide you sportsmen, referees, functionaries...

You tell us what bets to place, set the odds, hide the flow of money...

-Who? Who have you got? -Whoever you want.

Shot putters, jockeys... football players. We can get to anyone.

I'm running Tarik-Amir's security, and the limousine business.

I've learned how to reach people.

No.

We're doing just fine.

Even if you had the German team in your pocket...

No.

Yeah, right. Nobody can buy them. They're too well paid.

Who said anything about buying?

You're bluffing.

-Who's the best German player? -Orkan Erdem.

So take a look. No Orkan Erdem. Or am I wrong?

-And I made sure that he won't be there. -So what?

He's sick and you already heard about it.

Or he's not playing to keep the Turks from hating him even more.

-I took him out of tonight's game. -So what if you did?

Germany won't lose just because Erdem is missing.

I need more than that.

I've got the whole German team.

If I say they lose, they lose. If I say they win, they win.

And I say you're talking shit.

I bet you 1,000.

Germany to lose.

If I'm wrong, the money's yours.

If I'm right...

Then we're in business. Okay?

Let me tell you something.

Not to annoy you, but because I want to help, okay?

You are the number two in your family. Be grateful and enjoy it.

You've always been smart, but this shit... It's not gonna work.

Quit fantasizing before you get hurt. And respect your brother's leadership.

I didn't ask for your fucking opinion, did I?

I want to do business, and you give me this gay shit.

Are you scared? Then just say so. Then I'll do it on my own.

Listen up, everybody.

Kareem thinks he knows more about the betting business than me.

The kid is convinced the German team will lose.

So, here...

are 5,000 euros.

I'm betting that against him. Are you in?

I don't have that much money on me, man.

Oh, Kareem hasn't got that much on him.

What's that jerk talking about?

Let's see where this goes.

Dude, if you don't have the money, keep your mouth shut.

A Tarik-Amir should know that.

I'm betting my birth ring.

It's priceless.

Your ring? It means shit to me.

If you're so certain Germany's going to lose,

then bet the finger the ring is on!

-You're not getting that finger. -Are you scared?

You can have this one.

And this one too, if Germany win.

-You swear on your honor? -On my fucking honor.

You're all my witnesses.

Kareem just bet his middle fingers:

one if Germany don't lose, and both...

if they win.

What's wrong, coward?

I want to talk to Kareem. Alone.

-Kareem? -Yes!

What?

Hakim wants to talk to you. Right now.

I'll be right there.

We're sitting over there.

This way.

Where are we going?

I want to see the match, man.

Come on.

What are we doing here?

We can go now. Come on.

I invited Kovac. It's my business. I've got a bet with him.

So what the fuck is this? Why am I called in here like a kid?

Is everything okay?

What do you mean?

Is everything okay between us?

Sure. Why not?

Remember when Baba found my grass?

Almost 30 grams.

Shit, man. He went crazy.

He thought it was mine.

He beat you, didn't he?

Yeah, and how. I had to have 30 stitches.

Baba knew it was my grass, not yours.

I told him. Back then.

-He knew it? -Of course, brother.

Baba was really crazy.

Baba was the first-born son.

The crown prince.

And I'm his first-born son.

He never once hit me, no matter what shit I pulled.

It sucks to be the second son. I know that.

And I was often a shitty older brother. I know that too.

But now I'm here for you.

And I can help you,

if you tell me what's going on.

No matter what. You understand?

Look at me.

Even if you have something going with Kovac...

We can deal with it.

Together. Tarik-Amir.

But you need to tell me the truth.

So...

What is going on?

Nothing's going on.

Then make your bet with Kovac.

Alone.

Cool, huh? I got it from the copy shop.

His debts will get paid, for sure.

You two go and check the place out.

The cop from the raid yesterday.

Murad is a snitch.

Send that photo to my phone right away.

Raif!

What's up? Is everything okay?

What's the Turkish cop from yesterday doing with Murad?

-No idea. -You're in charge of the kid.

-Didn't you invite him? -Of course I did.

His sister wouldn't let him go.

Now he's here with that fucking cop.

Is he a fucking snitch?

No, no, no.

Murad's not like that.

I promise you. I swear it.

Listen, I want you to check him out.

If he's a snitch, you come straight to me.

Understood?

-Okay, I'll do it. -It's your responsibility.

Check him out.

Yallah.

Okay.

Erol! They saw us.

-They even took a photo. -You did it on purpose, didn't you?

Did I force you to work for Tarik-Amir?

Work? I carried a carpet. That's all!

That's all? That's always how it starts.

-Know what they do to snitches? -Hey! They won't hurt you, okay?

On the contrary. They'll welcome you. And respect you.

-Why would they? -Because you'll tell them about me.

-What? -We'll put word out that we got to you.

Tried to bribe you. The whole deal.

But you didn't say a word.

They'll know you're trustworthy.

The clan needs people like that. They'll give you the royal treatment.

When will I be out of all this?

-When the clan is out of Berlin. -What?

I want to know about every delivery: what, when, how and where.

And everything about Kareem and Hakim.

-Private lives, business, everything. -I can't do that.

You should have thought of that before joining Tarik-Amir.

-Asshole. -Hey!

I swear you and Maïssa are safe, as long as you help me take down the clan.

I'll see you in the stands, okay?

Mr. Seiler?

Yes, I'm in the stadium too.

Okay.

He's on his way.

Fuck.

The German team is finally showing signs of life.

There's Freidrich on the attack. But it's too weak, there's no power.

And the ball is back with Turkey. What's going on with the Germans?

They're walking around like ghosts.

I haven't seen them like this in a long time.

What's wrong with them?

Turkey is on the attack again.

Yes!

God damn it!

Fuck!

Shit!

Yes! Yes!

Mine, man. Mine!

Turkey's up one-nil, a much-deserved lead.

What will Coach Kranz do? He has to react.

Orkan Erdem is sick and can't help them out now.

This is the first half, not...

Bou'Penga? Get warmed up. You're going on.

Kranz sends in Bou'Penga.

The player from Leipzig had an excellent season.

He's been pegged to have his national debut soon.

It looks like his time has come.

Can he turn this game around?

Mr. Birkan.

We're over here.

This is Detective Grimmer. You'll lead the Erdem case together.

-I've heard a lot about you. -And I've heard about you.

-You're a back door bandit. -A what?

-Grimmer! -You know, a back door bandit...

A fudge packer, a pillow biter...

A faggot.

Don't worry, you're not my type.

Too rough for you, huh? You prefer the gentle, cuddlier stuff?

He's in charge? Seriously?

I'm sorry. I'm happy to lodge an official complaint.

Relax. I'm not taking the case.

I'm sticking with Tarik-Amir.

But thanks for thinking of me.

You're an officer. I can order you to take over this case.

I'll take sick leave and ask for a transfer.

-God damn it! -I'm sorry.

It's his decision. You have to respect it.

Forget about the clan. After that botched raid...

I see you've got a replacement.

Listen.

We think Orkan Erdem's murder is connected to the betting mafia.

That's organized crime too. The Kovac clan.

I don't care about Kovac.

Tarik-Amir doesn't commit every crime in Berlin!

Nearly a third.

They're connected to a third of all violent crimes.

They're a tumor. I'm going to cut it out.

You're really getting on my nerves.

You have until the end of the game.

Or else Kubat gets the case.

And you'll have an ugly black mark in your file until the day you retire.

Until the end of the game!

Come here.

Just a couple of seconds in, and Bou'Penga is on the ball.

This is magic!

He's only just been sent on, and he's already off like a rocket.

His energy is carrying the whole team.

No, no.

Shit, shit!

Pull yourself together.

Fuck!

What a debut! What a sensational kid! What a performance!

TURKEY 1:1 GERMANY 41ST MINUTE, FIRST HALF

Bou'Penga scores his first goal for the nation

just 90 seconds after entering the game.

The scorer is a nigger!

The guy who scored is a goddamn nigger!

Can't you see?

Shit.

-What? -Something's happened. I'll come get you.

-Not now. -It's about Bine.

Is she okay?

She jumped in front of a car. I wouldn't call it "okay".

Shit. I'm coming outside.

-Who the fuck is number 18? -Raphael Bou'Penga. From Gabon.

It's his first game today.

This is his first game?

Only a few seconds left in the first half. The Germans are awake, motivated.

Bou'Penga is relentless.

Incredible! He's leaving the Turks in his wake.

A great chance! And...

It hits the bar! If only that had gone in.

What a game for the young German.

We're looking forward to the second half. It just got interesting again.

Coward!

Get down to the locker room right now

and tell that Bou'Penga to stop playing so well.

Germany has to lose. Got it?

Or we'll cut off his dad's balls and his mom's tits

and we'll fuck her up the ass, okay?

Kareem, I can't just go in there. They've got security.

Then take two guys with you.

Are you scared? Shall I fuck your mum instead?

Yallah.

Hans, what happened to Bine?

She flipped out and threw herself in front of a social worker's car.

We were trying to contact you.

-Damn. -She braked. Bine got a few scratches.

I just drove her home. She caused a scene at the welfare office.

The social worker wanted to charge her with harassment.

But I took care of it.

Thanks, man. Thanks.

She was in a bad way. She kept asking for you.

Shit.

When it rains, it fucking pours.

-Murphy's law. -That's not Murphy's law.

-It's not? -No. It's not.

Can you lend me some cash? I'm broke.

-How much? -Four hundred.

You better not be gambling again.

I'm pretty broke myself. They want to nail me for manslaughter.

What? Because of that crazy knife guy?

Those bastards! You deserve a medal for that.

Tell that to his mom and the damn lawyer.

Either I pay or I go to the big house.

Like I said: When it rains, it pours.

Murphy's fucking law.

Turn around right now and leave. No entry.

Relax, we'll just be a second in there.

I said there's no entry here.

-I'm permitted to use armed force. -Chill out, man.

We're going.

How will you tell Kareem we didn't get in?

This is yours.

Shit day, huh?

More like a shit life.

Know what's good about hitting rock bottom?

That the only way is up?

I can't do it anymore.

-Sure you can do it. -I can't do it.

You can.

Because I'll help you.

Yeah?

Can I assume that there won't be a repeat of what went down today?

-It won't happen again. -Good girl.

Next time, throw her in front of the car instead.

The Germans are back in the game.

Bou'Penga is the instigator, the motivator,

always creating new chances.

The Turks have pulled back into their own half.

Maybe you can sense it at home too. A goal for Germany is not far away.

Hey, did you talk to number 18?

-Yeah. -So why is he playing like Ronaldo?

I don't know.

Turkey is trying its luck with high balls. That's desperation.

Bad move, bad move, Hartmann! And there's Kurtulus. Goal!

Yes!

Those assholes cut off my cable.

WiFi?

No, it's part of the package. I'll pay it tomorrow.

-I've got to go. -No, not yet.

-Please. -I'll come back later.

I'll be back later.

No.

Just a little longer.

Bine...

I really have to go...

Just a little.

Just a little.

-Just a little. -This isn't fair.

Please...

Please, please, please, please.

Just a little.

TURKEY 2:1 GERMANY 92ND MINUTE, 2ND HALF

What are you doing, you bastard?

Hey.

Hey.

-Where are you? -With an old school friend, Bine.

-It's an emergency. I'll explain later. -Are you coming home soon?

I've got to go somewhere else now.

Did something happen?

It's fine.

Okay.

I love you.

I love you too.

I've gotta go.

To Paula.

Okay...

See you later.

Why don't you leave her?

-Drop it. -You're here with me more than at home.

Okay.

Sit down and listen.

I'll say this only once.

There was a time when I felt like you do now.

And Paula...

was there for me.

Nobody else.

I wouldn't be here without her.

So never, ever tell me to leave her again.

Understood?

Was that a yes?

I'll see you later.

This isn't what football is about!

The Turkish team is lucky the referee isn't calling off the match.

Robert!

This penalty kick will most definitely end the game.

-I'm supposed to take it. -This is my game.

My game, okay?

This kid has nerves of steel.

It's like Günter Netzer sending himself onto the pitch in 1973.

Let's see whether the German team really belongs to you.

Turkey is the best!

Turkey! Turkey!

Shut up, asshole!

Go back to Turkey!

Grimmer, you old bastard.

You actually did it.

Congratulations, brother!

-So? -So what? Boring.

-Mr. Seiler? -So, have you thought about it?

-Yes, I have. -And?

Kovac!

I told you I own the team.

And that's not all. We could make millions. Billions!

So, are we in business?

You said the Erdem case could be connected to the Kovac clan?

I did, yes.

We'll be in touch.

I'm in.

Sorry, Kubat.

You're out.

To Turkey!

He was confident enough to just take the ball,

taking the chance to score from a much more experienced player.

And then blew it!

The German team have lost the qualifying match

and are now firmly positioned in second place.

EROL BIRKAN IS YOUR NEW PARTNER!

-Hans? Hey. Doing anything tonight? -What are you planning?

Fuck you!

Fuck you!

The Kanacks think they can celebrate!

-In our country! -Never!

-In our city! -Never!

Are we the kind of assholes who'd let that happen?

No!

Let's show those Turks what true German fighting spirit is!

Yes!

Time for a third half!

-Where are you going? -To beat up some Turks.

Really?

Will that solve the problem?

Of them coming over here, taking our women and breeding?

Forget about that child's play.

The real war is about to start.

It would be better to focus on getting the money from your brother.

We haven't seen the team play like that in a long time.

What was wrong?

Kranz substituted you in the first half.

We saw tears.

I can't... Thank you.

Hey. Great first game. Honestly.

You really lit a fire under the German team.

I can't talk about it, but we all played under difficult circumstances tonight.

You're playing here with Leipzig in three days.

Think you'll be able to bury the trauma of missing that penalty by then?

It was his youthful overconfidence

that spurred Bou'Penga to take the penalty himself.

But as we saw, the guy from Gabon needs more experience.

We can expect a lot from him,

but he must learn to be a team player first.

MAY OUR COLLABORATION CONTINUE! KAREEM TARIK-AMIR

-I'm going to get a Coke, okay? -Be quick.

Hey, bro.

What do you think of this?

It's good.

What are you doing for Hakim?

-For who? -Always got the right answer.

Just so people don't start talking shit: I know you got a photo of me.

The cops tried to turn me. I didn't say anything.

I'm Tarik-Amir, man.

I made this beat.

M-U-R-A-D, 16 shots from breathing

Saruk is waiting

The beat is sick Let's get married

Dude, let's get married. Uh.

-Cool beat. -Not bad, huh?

Yeah, man. Pound it.

If I don't pass the football tickets on to our clients,

it's called embezzlement.

I know.

I'll be better.

No, you won't.

But I know that.

Shit!

-My dad. -Hey!

Okay!

Turkey!

Keep out of the Orkan Erdem case.

Understood?

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