All language subtitles for S00E02 - Infiltration-eng(1)

'N'Drangheta' -

a hard word to get your tongue around.

So let's just call it what it is.

The Calabrian Mafia.

They arrived in Australia
early last century

and established a power base in the
farming country of New South Wales

because that's what they were
- peasant farmers.

They grew fruit and vegies. alright.
But that wasn't their only cash crop.

When marijuana came along.
They coudn't believe their luck.

They went into the dope business
big-time and made a fortune

and like Mafia back home in Italy.

They protected their pot
of gold with tooth and claw.

I swear, I didn't do it.

Didn't we pay you enough?

Plenty. I never took the stuff.

Just tell the truth.

You stole from the crop
we pay you to look after.

You're gonna knock me anyway.

Just tell me the truth.

And you won't knock me?

There is a chance.

I pinched 100 plants.

You've got hundreds of thousands out here.

Listen, I sold them, but
I'll get them back to you, OK?

It's not a problem. I got a bit now,
and I'll give you a bit... No, please!

I told the truth. I told the truth.

Yes, you did.

And you will go to heaven...

Arggh! Ohh!

...with a limp.

And when God says, "Why do you limp?"

You tell him the truth too
- you thieved.

No, Antonio...!

Over the years.

They notched up dozens of violent murders.

Police coudn't ignore them forever.

But how do you crack open an
organisation like the Mafia?

They're a family. They
don't trust outsiders.

They never talk business on the phone

and they never roll over.

For a long time.

His name
- Colin McLaren.

SONG:

♪ It's a jungle out there... ♪

In the 1990s.

The Australian Government set up
police operations across the country

to find out ex actly what the
Mafia was up to and stop them.

I was part of the Victorian task force

and that's the man I'm talking about
- Colin McLaren.

And that's his team -

investigators. Italian translator.

Squirrels. including me.

I was a squirrel.
Nothing to do with acorns.

It was our nickname for
surveillance operatives.

And there were the bean counters.

Loyalty is the core of
N'Drangheta's success.

You can't simply join N'Drangheta.

You have to be born into
an N'Drangheta family.

N'Drangheta grows by
marriages between the families.

Antonio Russo is married to Maria Ricci.

She's the daughter of Carlo Ricci.

He's been the boss of the
Griffith shebang for aeons.

Antonio has inherited
the reins from Carlo.

Blood gives N'Drangheta its strength.

Blood and absolutely no mercy.

Arggh!

Hi, Dad. Hey!

Love you.

Got soccer tomorrow, Dad.

When was the last time I forgot? Never.

Come on.

Ciao.

We started by buggering
up their marijuana business

using satellite surveillance
to bust their crops

15 years before Google Earth.

Three fucking crops in a
month. Fucking satellite.

How can the fucking
thing see a marijuana crop

from outer fucking space?

They're costing us a lot of money.

Antonio, we stop planting. Agreed?

There. Fixed the fucker.

Ex cept Antonio Russo was
more than up to the challenge.

But every step he took.
We were right behind him.

Excuse me! Have you got a sec?

Um, I'm a bit lost.

I'm looking for, uh...
What is it? Market Street.

Do you know where that is? Oh, Market Street
- that one.

So they must have unloaded
20,000 little marijuana babies.

But they can't be going to grow them
in there. There's not enough room.

No. Mr Russo's got somewhere else in mind.

Antonio's plan
- hydroponics on a massive scale.

Which needed a huge
shed. Tons of equipment

and some poor fool who
was desperate enough

to let his property be used by the Mafia.

They're tooling up to grow under lights.

They're shifting the marijuana
babies into this shed here,

out of sight of the satellites.

Put them under growing lights,
turn on the irrigation -

$5 million worth.

Antonio Russo connected to the plants?

Rosario Torcaso connected to the shed.

So we've got more than enough to
do them for conspiracy to cultivate.

Conspiracy's piss-weak, Roger.

This is the top N'Drangheta brass.

As soon as they're in that shed
with the growing lights turned on,

they're up to their eyeballs

in cultivation, possession
and distribution -

10 years, 6 years to serve.

That cuts the N'Drangheta head off.

So we're looking at, what, a month?

When they're in, we'll move.

I'll pencil a month into the time line.

The clock's ticking, remember.

A month?

Even a humble squirrel like me
thought it was ridicuously optimistic.

It would never have occurred to the
old guy to grow crops undercover,

not in a million years.

But Antonio Russo
- this prick thinks outside the box.

He's...

A bright bastard.

Mmm.

OK, the Shepparton farmer, he,
er, he telephone to Antonio Russo.

The farmer says his
wife now change her mind.

"She wants nothing to do
with N'Drangheta, full stop. "

And Antonio says that he's relaxed
about things, he understands.

He says to wait 12 months
and then reassess things.

Fuck me.

What do you wanna go to Griffith for?

There is no guarantee
they'll ever use the shed,

and even if they do,

we can't sit around on our
arses waiting for 12 months.

There's N'Drangheta here
in Melbourne. Foot soldiers.

Roger, we've got to
take down Antonio Russo.

I've never been to Griffith.

I just wanna go up there, sniff
around the place, suss out...

We've already spent a fortune

on the squirrels' travel and
meal allowance in Griffith.

Roger, you said so yourself, alright
- the clock is ticking.

We've got a two-year statutory
life. We're already eight months in.

This is our one chance.

Now, I just have to find another angle in.

I'm sorry, but I don't think so. No.

Can we clean up those marijuana babies?

Yep. Waiting to speak to the local DI now.

I thought we'd dummy up a drug
raid, arm's length from us,

you know, local boys and
girls acting on local intel.

I'll concoct something.

Good. That's exactly
what Colin and I thought.

If the N'Drangheta get a whiff of us now,

they'll go absolutely to ground.

Good call.

Griffith's lovely this
time of year, isn't it?

Oh, Inspector Davis, hello.

Squirrels, who's up
for showing Collie-Wol

the sights and delights of Griffith?

I've had a gutful of the dump.

I've got an appointment
with my gynaecologist.

Yeah, if you promise
Roger won't shit himself.

Fools rush in. right?

Colin, I'm sorry.

You've offered no tangible justification
for the outlay in TAs and MAs

in excess of those already
allocated against Griffith.

Whatever, Roger. We're here, mate.

Antonio was told that the
marijuana babies were busted.

He's very angry.

Very angry's good. We might unsettle him.

Watch yourselves. Thanks, Sandra.

Antonio Russo's humble abode.

Here he comes, the man himself.

Local palace of dreams.

Eau de stale beer.

Yeah, I remember that cigarette
smell from six months ago too.

Two G&Ts, please.

Our lucky day. 11 o'clock, two tables
pushed together, the dirty dozen.

Let's squirrel, squirrel.

A local fucking uniform
copper found the stuff.

OK.

Carlo Ricci. Rosario Torcaso.

Antonio Russo
- the prize.

The man who had to come
up with a new business plan

before the family looked for a new boss.

Colin knew it was a golden opportunity.

But without being family.
Without being blood.

How coud he even start a conversation?

There you go. Grazie.

Come here, come here.
I've got something for you.

What you got for me?

You put your little hand here.

But if you win, you share with me.

I know what he wants to
share with you, sweetheart.

I've had a vision, so go
with me. Just stay here.

Excuse me, has anyone
played this one recently?

No.

Beauty.

See, I've got this theory

that these are programmed to pay
out after a period of inactivity.

A scientific theory, of course.

There's no system. Trust me.

I do know the people who
own these machines, though.

Oh.

They're sitting over there if you
wanna complain, but I wouldn't.

Nah. It's a quick-and-the-dead
world these days.

Make a dollar any way you can.

It's thirsty work, this.
What are you drinking?

Rum.

I'm Sara. Herlihy.

Hi, Sara. Cole Goodwin.

"Coal'? Like as in"coal'
- Newcastle kind of coal?

No,
C-O-L-E.

Oh. Old family name.

Really? Tradition
- that's so good.

Where you from? Melbourne.

Mmm, I love Melbourne.

I've never been there, but
I just... I know I'd love it.

What do you do?

Self-employed. I'm an art dealer.

Wow. I love art. Yeah?

Yep. Can you... Sorry,
just excuse me. Just a sec.

Hey, boys. I'll see you later, yeah?

Well, you're a naughty man.

Hey, Sara, I can be
pretty fucking naughty too.

I'll see you later. Ciao.

Oh, nice tits.

Thank you. Nice shirt.

Could you show some respect?

Hi, lover.

My name's Cole Goodwin.
I'm a Melbourne art dealer.

And we're overnighting here

on our way to Broken Hill
to Pro Hart's gallery.

Now it all became stunningly
crystal clear to me.

My team leader was flying
by the seat of his pants.

But what did I know?
I was only a squirrel.

I love Pro Hart. Yeah.

He does key rings.

For the next two hours.

Colin's strategy was
to get Sara very drunk.

I had a job.

In Broken Hill?

No, no, no. Here at Griffith Library.

Fair dinkum? Mmm.

But I'm friendly with the wrong Italians,

so they said no.

So no job. Bastards.

Yeah.

Well, it's because, um... Come here.

It's because... they're the Mafia.

N'Drangheta.

They're, um, Calabrian Mafia.

Huh.

They're my boys.

Yeah.

But they're my only friends here.

Sorry I'm late. Traffic.
What have I missed?

We're infiltrating the N'Drangheta.

Cole Goodwin, art dealer,

will have cards, brochures and stationery

printed up inside 24 hours

and the Pro Hart key
rings are organised, mate.

Good stuff, mate. Roger, good morning.

Infiltration? Yep.

Jude and I found the
perfect back to ride in on -

a female associate desperate for friends.

There's no way into the
N'Drangheta. You heard Vito.

What's more, Jude is only a squirrel.

The art world has a seriously...
A very good squirrel.

She is, mate. But the art world
has a seriously shonky underbelly.

That's our angle and
that's what's happening.

So you're prepared to risk Jude's life?

No. I am.

Infiltration isn't undercover.

Undercover's pretending to be a waiter,

a cab driver for a couple of weeks.

Infiltration is about burrowing
into your targets' hearts,

winning their trust and
living their lives with them

for however long it takes...

...as long as they don't
twig to you first...

...and kill you.

If you're up for this, I'll be glad.

And if you're not, then
I'll understand completely.

If you think I can do it...

It's not what I think. It's
going to be your life at risk.

Yours if I screw up.

Yeah, but I've been there
and I've done it, OK?

I know the risks.

So I want an audio link
back to this office, Tiny,

but I am not wearing a wire, OK?

I hate the things

and this operation's
long-term, so way too risky.

Coward? Yeah, got it in one.

I've got a mobile phone I've been
having a bit of a dick around with.

Technically it's still in R&D,

but the bugger's testing
its little plastic head off.

Functioning mobile phone.

Push 5-1 on the keypad -
enables it as a transmitter.

Transmission mode cancels phone capability

so no-one can call you
when you're transmitting.

You're a star, Tiny.

You're a scholar, Col.

One other thing
- it sucks battery power in transmission mode.

I'm working on it,

but take spare batteries, crates of them.

Yeah, right.

The Calabrian Mafia? You're insane!

I mean, we're Sicilian, we can be evil.

Those Calabrians are seriously
dangerous mothers, mate.

That's not a caponata.
That's not Sicilian, mate.

That's a... that's a
skip version of Sicilian.

Come over here and ask me some questions.

Alright. OK. I'm now an art dealer.

I need to know more than I do.

Alright.

What's a Norman Lindsay
original sketch worth?

Pen and ink
- 1,200 bucks.

Pencil
- 900.

Well, I'm off to work to
try and poison someone.

Hey, your old man's disappearing
out of your life again, Chelsea.

Mixing it with murdering Calabrians.

I'm used to it.

I love you, Papa Bear.

Ciao, Uncle Vinnie. Ciao, bella.

See ya.

Colin had raised Chelsea alone
since she was 18 months old.

She never stopped worrying about him.

Come on, bubba. Let's
see what we've got here.

Hmm.

Please be careful.

You're the only Papa Bear I've got.

I love you. Chelsea.

It's not acting. There
isn't a script to follow.

It's a matter of sticking to the strategy,

being utterly believable, and winging it.

Being comfortable in our
art dealer and fiancée skins,

comfortable with each
other as an engaged couple.

Exactly.

Hanging in and surviving.

Am I flogging this stuff?

Yes, but it's helping.

I don't know if this is
strictly according to the manual,

but I'm shitting myself.

Can you sing?

Not for nuts.

Me neither, but I've found it helps.

♪ We can put away the
bad memories together... ♪

I don't know the words.

? Forever

? Watching you touch

? We're past this much, yeah

? I'm alone with you tonight

? I'm alone with you tonight

♪ I'm alone with you tonight... ♪♪

Hey, what do you think?

Uh...

You never seen a girl
in her undies before?

Yes, sure.

I just never figured you
for those kind of undies.

Bang goes a girl's mystery.

I'd go the cream and black thing.

Low-cut blouse for
Rosario Torcaso's benefit.

Now, we can't prepare beyond setting
ourselves goals for each time.

Understood.

I'd have picked you for
a boxers kind of bloke.

Boxers are fine if you
fancy an oversized slug

flopping around in your pants.

Bang goes your mystery.

So our first goal tonight
has to be to meet them?

Meet them and make
ourselves interesting enough

that they wanna get to know us.

This is as lowas I can get my
top without my boobs falling out.

If I take my bra off I'm
gonna look like a slapper.

You're absolutely fine.

Spare batteries for the phone?

Ready, lover?

As I'll ever be, fiancé.

The key rings! Thank you
so much. I'll treasure them.

We did promise. We
always keep our promises.

Do you wanna meet my boys? I
told them everything about you.

Do you remember my boys? Yeah, yeah, yeah.

They're just over here.

OK.

This was it. No turning back.

How do you make small talk when
your mind's completely blank?

Boys, these are my friends.

Make small talk with fruitgrowers...

...whose orchards are killing fields?

Cole Goodwin and Jude Powell.

This is Carlo Ricci, Antonio
Russo and his brother Rocco.

Rosario Torcaso and his brother Dominic.

Please join us.

Maybe they weren't in the
mood to kill anyone tonight.

What will you drink?

Sara maybe already knows.

Two G&Ts? Spot on.

Thank you, Sara. This your
first time in Griffith?

No. This is, what, our second time? Yeah.

I remember your first time.

Yeah?

Mmm.

I'm sorry, I don't recall.

What a lovely place
- Griffith.

Yeah. It is so peaceful and relaxing.

Thank you. We like it.

It's sad there is a bad reputation here.

I haven't come across that.

Or me.

But, anyway, what's a reputation worth?

I mean, Melbourne's is for
four seasons in one day.

Thank you.

Personally, I like
variety. Thank you, Sara.

Have you been to Melbourne, Rosario?

Many times.

What about Lygon Street? Do you like
Lygon Street. The restaurants there?

Sure.

We like Tiamo and. Uh...

Oh, you like, obviously, Italian food.

Yep, grew up with Italians.
Sort of an adopted son.

Sunday lunch in the backyard
when they come home from mass.

Open the fridge, caponata, you
know, with the fresh sardines,

homemade cassata.

You grew up with Sicilians? Yeah, yeah.

Good people.

Yeah, not bad people,
for fucking Sicilians.

See, that's Calabrian humour.

Yeah, well, they cook the best
Italian food I've ever had.

Really?

If you're hungry, if you would
appreciate some nice Calabrian cucina,

my family own a restaurant in this street.

You're welcome to come.

We'd love to.

We'll show you what real
Italian food is. Huh?

So far. So good. Now
came the difficut bit.

We had to show them we
had something they w anted.

But they had to discover it themselves.

Fichi ripieni alla Calabrese.

I know that is stuffed
figs, but "alla Calabrese"?

"Alla Calabrese". Yeah, sure,
it's, uh... it's the sauce.

It's not the sauce.

It means it's cooked like in Calabria.

I get it now.

How you become art dealer?

I grow grapes, citrus
fruit. My family grew them.

Your family was art dealers? No, no, no.

I was maybe 18, backpacking around Europe

and stumbled upon the art galleries,
and, well, they blew my mind.

So, uh, you earn a commission?
Sell a painting, get a percentage?

Spinaci e patate arrosto.

Grazie. Oh!

What is wrong with your phone?

Feels like it's going
to burst into flames.

Yeah.

She's warm.

I told you it was too
cheap to be any good, lover.

She can't walk past a bargain.

Am I in trouble again?

Your bargain mobile phone is
about to burst into flames.

Well, you've lost every expensive
one I've bought you, so...

It's like my wife
- cannot walk past bargain.

So where were we? Um, commission.

Put it this way, Antonio.

If I had to rely on commission,
I'd still be driving a Commodore.

I have a fruitful relationship
with some very clever clients.

What sort of things do you learn
from these, uh, clever clients?

OK, so long as you're not the tax man.

I learned things like where
do you hide a mountain of cash

so that the tax man MIGHT see it?

It could be staring him right in the face,

but he'd never recognise it.

Yeah, it's a print.

Mm-hm. Cost maybe $50.

You know that. The tax man doesn't.

You spend 200 grand,
cash, on a Tom Roberts

and put it right there,

the tax man will walk right past it.

200 grand, cash, hidden in full view.

And if you pick the right painting,

you can turn a profit on the resale too -

40%, 50% over two years sometimes.

You know, you're a very good
businessman, Cole Goodwin.

I honestly can't remember
the last time I complained.

Terrific night, Antonio.
Thank you very much.

It was a lovely night.

It was nice meeting you both.

Next time you come through, maybe
we see each other again, hey?

Sure thing.

Hey, um, do you know, is there
a United Bank branch in town?

Yeah, yeah, go two streets, turn left.

Good man, Dominic. Thank you.

Thanks, Dominic. Thank you,
everyone. Goodnight, all.

Ciao.

I can't believe I got through that.

I can't believe Tiny didn't tell
me the fucking phone cooks itself.

Please tell me this gets
easier with practice.

I wish I could.

He's in between girlfriends, isn't he?

The revolving door's in
for repairs I believe, yes.

How long's it been since he's had a root?

Your point being?

Look, Jude's a sort and a half, but
there's just no way in the world.

He's a pro. It'd compromise the operation.

Yeah, not to mention
constitute a sacking offence

on top of legal ramifications.

Jude's untrained, therefore vulnerable.

Which is exactly why he wouldn't.

Antonio Russo's as seriously
bright as we figured.

He's looking for new opportunities,
which means he's receptive.

You can't want more in a target.

All up, we're on track...

...as long as those, um,
undies don't derail us.

If these are posing an
operational difficulty,

I can always switch to cottontails.

I spoke to the accountant.

Cole Goodwin was talking of a
thing called money laundering.

Usually it makes your cash
look like it's legitimate,

but with Cole's way,
you can make 50% on top.

Because what is our cash earning us now?

Our cash is safe now.

We're not fucking businessmen.
What we do, we do well.

What do you think about Cole Goodwin?

No way I'm gonna do it. Life's too short.

Think business. What do you
think about Cole Goodwin?

Tell me.

Never trust a fucking skip.

Times change.

I like his mind.

I think we can use him.

Sounded good last night,
champer, Mrs champer.

Early days, mate. Very early days.

Hey, what's Tiny's story
on that overheating?

Well, best guess
- it's battery related.

He's sourcing stronger
ones to test as we speak.

Oh, and, er, George Henderson
from the United Bank called.

Apparently staff at the Griffith branch
did a recce on Cole Goodwin's accounts.

You made an impression.

Er, how often does he fart in bed?

Fuck up! We got a sweep running.

Favour, Roger. Oh, a hard man to catch.

I've had queries from above
regarding our time lines.

When can we expect to
be looking at drug deals?

When and if they happen.

The last thing that we need
is a paranoid N'Drangheta,

so can you please talk to the
other states' section leaders,

tell them to hold off
any N'Drangheta busts

until further notice?

Done.

Colin wasn't making it up

when he told Antonio he'd
grown up with Italians.

That's the secret of a good cover story -

make it as close to the truth as possible.

Thanks for coming, Uncle Colin. Dad
said you might not be able to make it.

No, I wouldn't miss it
for the world, sweetheart.

The most important day
in a Catholic kid's life

and you got here for her?

You agnostic bastard.

Ask him if he's making
it to my chef graduation.

Are you gonna make it
to the most important day

in your only kid's life?

I promised I'd try, OK?

Try! Try? Mmm.

You slack parenting bastard.

I'll do my best, sweetheart.

? Watching you touch

? We're past this much

? I'm alone with you tonight

♪ I'm alone with you tonight... ♪

In this job. You never.
Ever get over the nerves.

It was the Calabrians' move.
We coud only play it by ear.

Colin's job was to become Antonio's mate.

Mine
- to keep Rosario happy.

Have you still got this fucking thing?

Let me get you a new one. I know a guy.

Thanks all the same, but
I actually had it fixed.

But it's shit! Well,
it's sentimental shit, OK?

Jude got it for me. Capito?

Jude, I gotta ask you something. Ask away.

Cole, this picture thing
- I spoke to the accountant.

He liked the idea. Mm-hm, OK.

Rocco's shy. Can't talk to a skirt.

His balls turn blue
like they're gonna burst.

I don't know what was worse -

Rosario's mouth. His B
O. or his dress sense.

Maybe you have time to find
a nice painting for my wall.

Yeah, sure.

I mean, there's bound to be an
art auction on somewhere, you know?

The accountant said also

maybe we can find other
w ays to work together.

Maybe make use of your bank account.

Er, park some money for you?

For a commission, of course.

Nah, mate, I wouldn't
have a problem with that.

You guys must be doing
alright out of oranges.

You bet. Plenty money
in oranges. And lemons.

And we have other, um,

irons in the fire.

It was the first hint he'd given. But
a giant step in the right direction.

It was a double infiltration.

We were seducing him
and he was seducing us.

50 fucking grand for that?

It's nice. I like it.

So do I.

You got good taste, Jude.

This, er, Maria, my wife.

Cole Goodwin, Jude
Powell. Lovely to meet you.

Oh, these are noisy
kids, Louisa, Little Tony.

Louisa!

I think Antonio should
spend less time with Rosario

and much more time with Cole.

Every so often I'd catch myself thinking.

"These are very w arm.
generous people. I like them. "

? Feels like

? Someone's alw ays
looking over my shouder

? So scared

? I'm frightened just to
w alk around the corner

? Last night

? Your eyes upon me everywhere

? Looking over my shouder

♪ Oh. oh... ♪♪

For a drug-dealing Mafioso,
Antonio Russo's pretty good company.

? Looking over my shouder

♪ Oh. oh. oh. oh. oh. ♪♪

Cole, what do you reckon
about Italian religious art?

Oh, I could take it or leave it.

You can be honest. Maria likes this stuff.

Hi, Jude. Hi, Cole. Maria.

What do I like? Religious art.

Hey, you leave my religious
art alone. It's my faith.

Coffee? Yes, please.

Me, I have faith.

But I hate religious fucking art.

If I see another agonised
John the Baptist...

...I'll amputate his fucking head myself.

So, Cole Goodwin,

these other irons we have in the fire -

a small business we have on the side.

Plenty of dope smoked in art business?

Mate, the art business would
be paralysed without choof.

That's interesting.

We... we was wondering.

But that's nothing compared
to the music business.

I've got some contacts in music and
they love their drugs, believe me.

That's even more interesting.

So one that size, that's a
Frankie size. That's a Tony size.

Keep going, keep going. That's my size.

Jude? Jude? Yeah.

I'm studying for my confirmation.

Oh, Louisa, I'm not Catholic.

You don't have to be to test me. Oh.

OK, the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit?

Can't you ask me the disciples?

Louisa, you know the disciples.

Come on.

What are the seven gifts?

Hey, Cole! Cole!

What does he bloody know?

Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute!

What are you doing?!

What are you doing?

You are not good!

I know. Not very good.

That's no good. Sorry.

It's the Italian priority
that works for me.

Family.

Why you feel so much for family, Cole?

Growing up, there wasn't much of one.

Makes you swear you'd do it
differently if you ever have one.

One day, I hope you have the opportunity.

Mmm.

Your road has been hard, huh?

Oh, you do your best.

Don't ever make our road hard, Cole.

Ever.

Welcome to our family, Cole Goodwin.

What are you telling me?

Something's happened.

Leave it with me. I'll fix it.

Madonna, madonna, madonna, madonna.

He's coming.

We have a problem.

Business. We have a snitch. We must go.

A snitch?

Someone we thought we could trust, huh?

Not your problem. We find
the snitch, they have problem.

Stay, enjoy yourselves.

We didn't know what the hell had happened.

But Colin grabbed the opportunity
to prove that we'd been in the house

in case Antonio ever
tried to deny he'd met us.

Yeah. Thanks, Sandra.

Yeah, good work, mate.

Some Queensland admin dickhead

decided an N'Drangheta bust
in the Queensland boondocks

wouldn't impact on our operation.

How could they not think
that that would impact on us?

Dunno whether you've noticed this, Jude,

but the service is made up of two ranks

that usually manage to achieve something,

and above us about seven ranks of clowns

who wouldn't know if
their penises were on fire.

Junk food and cat piss
- perfect way to celebrate a graduation.

If Chef could see us now...

Hey, who's missing?

Um, my dad. We share.

He couldn't make it, but
I know he's here in spirit.

Cheers. Cheers.

? I've got no helmet
Baby. I've got no light

? When your boyfriend comes back to town

? I'll be gone

♪ I didn't choose to
be riding with you... ♪♪

Carlo Ricci's been on
the phone to Calabria.

He wants someone called Massimo Falzetta

on the first plane out here.

Massimo who-the-fuck?
I don't know.

Guido and the anti-Mafia
unit in Rome will know.

Thanks, Sandra.

Carlo Ricci's importing a
snitch-hunter - Massimo Falzetta.

According to Guido in the
anti-Mafia unit in Rome,

his talents are spoken of with awe.

Ciao, Rocco.

I think maybe we find some
place nice to talk business.

What about back at our place?

Jude does not want to be bothered
by men discussing business.

I don't mind men discussing business.

Come on, Jude. Let's go, sweetheart.

Jude, you'll get him back again, huh?

Maybe a couple of hours.

Come on, Jude. Let's go, honey.

'Bye.

Papa Bear.

Papa Bear!

Hey, Papa Bear.

Papa Bear!

Hey, Papa Bear!

Papa Bear, hey.

Huh, what's that slag on?

Alright, are we ready?

We can keep a fucking secret.

So if you can, Jude don't
have to know nothing.

Unless you make our road
hard, then we tell her.

Time to get down to business, Cole.

About time, Antonio.

This ain't for you lot's
delicate ears, Monica.

Go lick each other all over, huh?

I'll see you later.

OK. Cole. We have
another iron in the fire.

We're getting into cocaine.

What do you reckon?

You're diversifying?

It's a good business practice.

If you don't grow, you go backwards.

Yeah, absolutely.

What's the market like, you reckon,
in the art business, music business?

What? For cocaine? Mmm.

You've never seen so many
disintegrating nasal passages.

We're importing half a tonne.

But we already got stock
- 195 grand a kilo, pure.

What's that worth on
the street? Like, a mil?

Right, fair enough.

I'll take a kilo of cocaine, thanks.

Nice finally doing business with you boys.

Hey, what's the fucking
hurry, Cole? Relax.

We give all our new
clients a fucking present.

This is Rachel.

We'd have wrapped her up for you, but
she gets off at that sort of thing.

She'll take good care of you.

How you doing?

So...

...what's your fancy?

To be perfectly honest...

...I'd rather not.

) I'm gonna keep you up for hours.

For Christ's sake, let's
keep this off the record.

A working girl pole-dancing on
your knob while you're on duty

is some serious shit.

Troops, progress?

All good. I think he's on top of things.

You're nice, Cole.

How come you know Rosario and Antonio?

They buy art from me.

I'm an art dealer. Cool.

I like art. Cool.

Rosario must be really
interested in you and your art.

He's a good guy, Rosario.

And Antonio.

A couple of good guys.

Good mates, in fact.

Chelse. Chelse. How could you do that?!

Hey, hey. Whoa, whoa,
whoa. How did that happen?

How was I to know? OK?

And what were you doing
there? Working. I got a job.

Well, how am I to know?

Because I left you a note,

but it was still there two weeks
later, so I just threw it away.

I'm sorry.

Well, if we didn't always
have to communicate by notes...

One day. OK?

One day. Yeah.

Well, this is the same old bullshit! Shhh.

One day.

In the meantime...

...you don't know what
those notes mean to me.

OK?

How was your night, anyway?

Yeah. Don't ask.

Chelsea alright? Yeah.

She's amazing. You should
meet her. I almost did.

As for the other matter,
lucky we're not engaged.

I would have cut your oversized slug off.

Well, I did order a kilo of pure coke.

As you do prior to a root in a brothel.

Days in the office don't get much tougher.

I reckon this is almost
better than a real engagement,

even without the humping.

Been there?

Still am there.

Is he in the job? Powerlifter.

Professional?

Just powerlifts.

This is exactly what I mean. About what?

What you need in a partner.

Someone you can trust.

And someone who trusts you.

Yeah, well, you can't put
brains into monuments, can you?

Ah, thanks. I owe you one.

What now?

A mate of mine with the
NSW task force reckons

that word of our infiltration
is all over Sydney and Brisbane.

How can it be?

There was a task force admin national
conference a while back in Sydney.

Afterwards, a little bit of socialising

and professional dick-measuring,

and all of a sudden our supposedly
top secret operation wasn't anymore.

Great. How long till
that reaches Griffith?

Well, it better not or we're dead.

Clowns.

I've never applied for $195,000
for a kilo of pure coke before.

Think about it like you're applying
for a new globe in your desk light.

Times it by a million.

Sandra?

The response to our application just
came back. You might wanna sit down.

They've approved $50,000.

Maximum.

What the fuck am I
supposed to say to Antonio?

"Oh, yeah, sorry, mate, you
know, 50 grand's our limit.

"Me and Jude are just some
pissant fringe players. "

The whole point of this
operation is to do deals.

You know, that's all the
clowns are on my back about.

Excuse me. I logged Carlo
Ricci talking with Antonio.

You are going to meet Massimo
Falzetta later tonight.

Carlo wants him to look you and Jude over.

Piacere, Massimo.
Piacere. Nice to meet you.

This is my fiancée, Jude.

Piacere, Jude. Piacere.

Massimo understand more
English than he speaks, huh?

He's come out to help organise
with the cocaine importation.

Fair enough.

Excuse us, Carlo, Massimo.

Yeah, we got, er, business
to talk, don't we, Cole?

Organise payment for a kilo of coke,
deliveries, boring detail stuff.

Sure.

Jude, do you wanna organise
some drinks for everyone?

Absolutely.

I can offer everyone a lovely red wine

courtesy of some very generous
friends of ours in Griffith.

For starters, you're probably not

gonna wanna split a kilo of coke, are you?

We can't.

It comes in sealed packages of one kilo.

You got problems, Cole?

Only that this guy's umming and ahhing

over three Norman Lindsay oils.

Quarter of a mil's worth for 200
grand, and he's still mucking me around.

Well, that is disappointing.
It's pissing me off.

You said you had plenty of contacts. Yeah.

Fuck him off, get the
money somewhere else.

Um...

Nice house.

Thank you.

Massimo fine with the
red wine? Er, yeah, he is.

And he says that, er, he
wish he could live here.

The blast ripped through the office

on the top floor of the 12
- storey building.

Contained in a parcel. The bomb blew up...

On Tuesday. March 2. 1994.

An obscenely destructive phosphorus
bomb delivered terror to Australia.

The target was the
National Crime Authority's

Adelaide task force office.

The victim was Geoffrey Bowen.

Colin's equiv alent in South Australia.

Who are IBM Promotions, Pete? Beats me.

Be computer-related, yeah?

I didn't order anything computer-related.

Could be a bomb. Ooh, yeah, right.

There's no wires.

The dead man was Sergeant Geoffrey Bowen.

A senior detective...

South Australian Mafia identities
were at the top of the suspect list.

This is a wicked and evil thing

that's been done.

No
- one has ever been convicted.

Completely out of the
character of this country.

The NC A has a wide-ranging role.

Investigating organised
and white-collar crime.

Most recently it's tackled
drugs and the Mafia.

We beefed up our security. Every
task force in the country did.

But it didn't help me.

I'm not leaving the operation, Roger.

No way. We couldn't have
got this far without Jude.

I'm sorry. It's come from above.

I don't care how high
it came down from, Roger.

What, did it come from the same clown
that wouldn't organise full-tote odds

to buy that kilo of coke...

It's been deemed too dangerous...
... effectively sinking...

...for Jude to continue.
... our operation?

Did it come from the clown...
I understand your feelings...

...that got on the piss in Sydney, opened
his mouth and nearly got us killed?!

We cannot risk Jude's life!

Now, this is not, I
stress, it's not negotiable.

Fine.

It's understood for
operational legal reasons

two operatives are required for
the purposes of corroboration.

I'll try to put another male
operative in Jude's place.

? This endless ride has got me. I know

? I've been holding on by a thread

♪ Falling tow ards the end... ♪♪

Hang on.

♪ But I have been held
by a thousand hands... ♪♪

26. One for each week of our engagement.

♪ And I know that something is wrong... ♪♪

Thought you could do with some company.

This stuff's like battery acid.

I can hear it chewing
through the glass as we speak.

You started without me, you prick.

They can get fucked, mate.

Every clown that's ever fucked us over.

Fuck all of them.

Yeah, goodo. Where's your corkie?

See, the proverbial bar, champer,
the bar that one sets for oneself -

your bar is set permanently
up there somewhere.

I mean, a Mexican bloody jumping bean
on amphetamines couldn't clear it.

Beats me why.

And if that's not enough, you
let the fucking clowns get to you.

You take it personally.
Alright? You can't.

OK, shit happens in life, otherwise
the world's perfect, and it's not.

Except Collingwood Football Club is.

Geoffrey Bowen paid the
ultimate price, mate,

and we can't get more than 50 grand.

So walk away when Antonio tells
me to piss off or walk away now?

What's the diff?

It's over.

The only thing I'm gonna
miss is his company.

Yeah, you said he was good company.

It bothered the shit out of me.

That man has more balls and more brains

than all the clowns put together.

He kills people, champer.

They can get you killed, Leigh,

getting on the piss after
a conference in Sydney.

Colin.

I told him not to call you.

He tells me you're being a dickhead.

You're out of it, babe.

Better off.

Hey, listen, you're not the
only one with the investment.

I put six of the craziest, most
exciting months of my life into this.

If you walk away now,

I will personally put your
oversized slug in a vice

and I'll stretch it until it looks
like that sausage in the photograph.

Oh.

That makes two of us, fiancé.

Sir, we've spent 18 months and
goodness knows how many millions

targeting N'Drangheta.

Now, for an extra couple of hundred
thousand we can clean them up.

I'm no accountant, but that sounds
like a mighty good investment to me.

The Commissioner did his
sums and saw the sense.

Roger. Ever cautious.
Insisted Colin wear a wire

as well as carry the
mobile phone transmitter.

Cole, I was sorry to hear
Jude's mother is not well.

Mmm. Thanks, mate.

I spoke to her this morning in
Sydney. Things aren't looking good.

She said to say hello.

Give her our best regards,
huh? Yeah, I will do.

Thanks, mate.

What's this?

Is that really what I think it is?

It's your kilo of pure
fucking cocaine, you prick.

OK.

Let me stow this baby somewhere safe
and I'll be back later with the cash.

About 7:30?

You do trust me to pay later?

We know where you fucking live, skip.

And at 7:30 on the dot...

That should cover the cost of dessert.

Followed two weeks later
by 10 kilos of skunk weed.

With funding freed up.

Colin became a reguar at his
local drug dealer corner store.

18 months of scheming. Sweating. And
tradecraft all coming to fruition.

And it got even better.

Cole, this, um, business we've been doing,

it's, um - what do
you say? - chicken shit

compared to what we have in mind next.

Half a tonne of marijuana heads. Phwoo.

Grown in New Guinea.

$6 million worth.

It come from New Guinea on a boat
to this Queensland place, er...

Horn. Horn Island.

We load it onto a plane,
fly it to Griffith.

We gift you one-sixth
share, $1 million worth.

The cost to you
- zero.

Nothing. Just find us
an aeroplane and a pilot.

For some reason, we humble fruit growers

have trouble hiring aeroplanes.

Done.

Jeez, when it fucking
rains around here, it pours.

And this is the icing on the proverbial.

This cuts the N'Drangheta's head off

and buries it.

Is this doable?

Yeah. It's gotta be.

I mean, sure, I run into coppers

with covert experience and
a pilot's licence every day.

Yeah? Well, let's find us one.

I'd shit myself if I had to front
the N'Drangheta, and so would he.

I'm down to this guy.

I wish I could say he
filled me with more hope.

Senior Sergeant Jim Zignatowski
was a loy al Victoria Police officer

who enjoyed his posting in the peace
and quiet of the Coroners Court.

So, where's Horn Island?

Torres Strait, just
off Cape York Peninsula.

Then fly back to an airfield
just outside Griffith, NSW,

with cargo
- half a tonne of marijuana heads.

And at least one passenger
- Colin McLaren.

Undercover as Cole Goodwin.

But, in all likelihood,
there'll be two passengers -

Colin, and Rosario Torcaso,
a member of the N'Drangheta.

The endra what?

Calabrian Mafia.

Oh.

No, it all looks feasible.

Half-tonne of cargo,
couple of passengers.

Have to rip the interior
out to fit it all in.

Looking at something fairly sizeable,

e. g., your Navajo Chieftain.

Alright. Can you fly one?

In my sleep, Colin.

You gotta remember "Cole'.

Alright? You gotta remember "Cole'.

Don't worry, we're cooking, Ziggy. Cole.

Cole. Yeah, Cole.

Civil aviation bods will go mental.

Why's that?

I haven't got a licence
to fly a Navajo Chieftain.

Bit like having, well, a car licence
and you wanna drive, e. g., a bus.

I could get a licence, though. Only
take a couple of months, but, Colin.

Yeah. Cole.

Sorry I'm early. Antonio
up yet? Just woken up.

Ooh.

Bad timing.

Can you tell him that
the plane's not a problem,

but there's a bit of a
glitch with the pilot.

We're looking at maybe eight weeks.

So you got a pilot? Yeah,
of course I've got a pilot.

We've gotta meet him, approve
him. That's the glitch.

He's in demand 'cause he's the best.

The boat has to land here, at the jetty.

There's nowhere else.

This is all mangroves.

You've got about 10-12
metres of grassy area here

right at the end of the strip.

Now, the plane will park here for
quickest, most efficient loading.

So, I'm thinking that we put the
SOG-ies in here, in the mangroves,

which will be here.

And that way they can cover both directions
- the plane and the jetty.

Once that plane is loaded,
then we move in. OK?

You, you're gonna be in
Griffith with the cavalry

awaiting my call to take
down the N'Drangheta brass.

Colin, why the SOGs?
Because they're the pros.

But they're Melbourne-based.
The SERTs are Queensland-based.

The SOGs are the pros, Roger.

One more week and we get our pilot.

That's good news, huh?

I've told Rosario a hundred
time, you don't let us down.

I tell you something too, you're
lucky you're small businessman.

I have big business, all I get
- a big headache, huh?

This stuff Italian?

Mmm. Italian Renaissance.

I see no John the Baptist asking for
his head to be fucking amputated, huh?

Grazie a dio, eh? Mmm.

The Italian Renaissance artists
led the way into secular art,

non-religious stuff.

You're really into art, huh?

"Art washes away from the soul
the dust of everyday life. "

Yeah.

That's nice.

I like that.

Yeah, I wish I'd thought
of it before Picasso did.

Cole... I have a confession.

Mmm.

Massimo Falzetta come
here to find the snitch.

Carlo's idea.

Carlo never trusted you and Jude.

Even when I vouch for you.

Even when I stake my own
life that you are trustworthy,

he no believe me.

Old men, huh?

Old men, huh?

Hey.

Maybe we bring Maria
here, you and me and Jude.

Mmm.

Wash from the souls the
dust of everyday life.

Ziggy. Oh, g'day, mate. How are ya?

When did you last shower, mate?
Oh, about a week or so ago.

Thought I may as well look the part.

Been sleeping on the couch
at home and everything.

So, um...

I meet you and Rosario
Torcaso, Weipa Airport,

er, about 3am, day after tomorrow.

Just so you know, Ziggy, this is
out of satellite range after Weipa.

After that, we're on our own.

It might be a good idea if you
just kept a very low profile, OK?

Just keep the pressure off
yourself. Mate, I'm way ahead of you.

Mr Invisible is me. Right.

Just fucking one week. That's enough!

Rosario, you ready to go?

I'm sorry, Cole, Rosario got too
many things to organise in Griffith.

I don't know what the fuck's going on.

And there isn't a weapon on that plane.

I'll see if I can organise to get
you one at Brissy or Cairns airport.

Thanks.

Couldn't shake him in Brissy.

No, he even went for a piss with me.

So Brissy said. I'm sorry,
babe. That was our last chance.

Listen, one more quick thing.
You have the SERTs at Horn Island.

Fuck!

Roger's doing. I'm sorry. More
economical than flying up the SOGs.

I can't talk to you again
after Weipa, so good luck.

Thanks, Sandra.

Morning, Cole. Hey.

Rosario.

Er, not Rosario.

This is Massimo Falzetta.

How good's your memory? Too bloody good.

10 minutes till the boat arrives, Massimo.

Hey, Rosario. Hey, don't
worry, Cole's on top of it.

He'll call us.

OK?

Massimo, I can hear the boat.

Well, they're on time.

Here they come, Massimo.

Police, freeze! Police! Don't move!

Don't move! Don't move!

Get down on the ground!
Get down on the ground!

Don't move.

On the ground!

Ah, the man himself. Congratulations.

A SERT broke cover when he got pissed on.

We missed the boat and the drugs.

No matter. We got them
on conspiracy to import.

That and everything else.

13 N'Drangheta in custody,
including all the top brass.

It was a fuck-up, Roger.

A monumental fuck-up.

We cut the N'Drangheta's head
off. Mission accomplished.

Er, I'll do my best to
ensure that nothing comes of

the, er, intercourse with
the prostitute business.

I'll do my best, but,
um... never can tell.

No more notes. Ever.

I promise.

The Calabrians' committal hearing

was the first time they'd set
eyes on us since their arrest.

We call Detective Sergeant
Colin McLaren to the stand.

Or. As they were probably
entitled to describe it.

Their betray al.

It's a two
- w ay street. Betray al.

You can feel betrayed

and you can know in your
heart that you have betrayed.

And you wonder how you're
going to live with it.

Please read the statement.

I solemnly and sincerely
declare and affirm

that the evidence I shall
give will be the truth,

the whole truth and nothing but the truth.

Be seated.

Colin spent six days in the witness box.

Day three was the killer.

Where did this meeting take place?

At the Green Gardens Hotel.

And was it on the second
or the third meeting

that you allege my clients
discussed the importation?

Our case was overwhelming.

All the defence coud do

was try to undermine Colin's
credibility as a witness

by catching him out on details.

...one of which you claim
in June of last year,

9 June.

11 June, in Mr Russo's suite.

Tell the court what transpired.

I arrived early.

I knocked on the door,

and Mr Torcaso told me that
Mr Russo was still in bed.

And?

And I went to the bedroom door, I knocked,

then I opened the door.

And?!

And Mr Russo was in bed with Kim.

Kim was a waitress from Griffith.

She accompanied Mr Russo on
several trips to Melbourne.

In the N'Drangheta world.
Honour isn't just important.

It's all that matters.

What goes on in priv ate is priv ate.
Even if everyone knows it goes on.

There's no logic. That's
just the w ay it is.

But when priv ate becomes public?

How are you? Shithouse.

Maria's face.

Hazard of the trade.

How are you?

They're gonna be committed.

They'll be convicted.
We should be celebrating.

Yep.

You know, there is one bit of tradecraft

that I never got around to mentioning.

Yeah? What's that?

The very best you can ever
hope for in a partner...

...is a mate.

And we done good, mate.

See ya when I'm looking at ya, Roger.

Sorry? I just quit.

What on earth for? That's a huge result.

Don't you understand the
future that's set up for you?

Yeah. Reckon you'll get
a promotion out of it?

I'm quietly confident.

Yep. See ya when I'm looking at ya.

Now, I've come to the realisation

that the only way to avoid
gooses pooing down on you

is to work for yourself.

There's no-one there
to screw it up for you

and there's no-one there to bask
in the glory when you have a win.

Sounds logical to me. Mmm.

So that's why we're going into business.

At first I was thinking
a, you know, pensione.

Like a B & B? Yeah.

But then I thought, hang
on, Chelsea's a chef,

why not make it a ristorante?

And then I thought, bugger it,
go the whole hog, you weak sod.

So it's gonna be called Villa Gusto.

And it's gonna be an
Italian hotel and restaurant

with me hosting and pulling
corks and you cooking.

What do you reckon?

Ours.

Antonio Russo served 8 years
of his 13-year sentence.

In those days. A quick guilty
plea earned a reduction.

He'd been advised not
to return to Griffith...

Antonio!

...but that wasn't Antonio's w ay.

Some said Antonio was punished
for getting conned by a skip.

Most reckoned he'd have
been forgiven that mistake

if he hadn't publicly
dishonoured his wife.

Colin McLaren.

You fucking user.

You fucking, fucking user.

Who's this?

Just somebody else you fucking used.

What do you do?

Sara.

I hope Antonio Russo haunts you...

...for the rest of your days