Original subtitles

Guest workers.

What a shitty expression. Who thought that one up?

In the 1970s, firms like DAF and Chemie NV had a brilliant idea.

To import temporary cheap labour from countries like Turkey and Morocco.

Ambitious young men eager to work towards a better future.

The name says it all. We were just guests here.

The plan was to get rid of us after a few years.

But the men stayed on. After awhile they brought their wives over.

The children were born in the Netherlands.

The guests turned into our neighbours.

Over a thousand years ago, Imam Tirmizi wrote:

The best present a father can give his son is a good chance in life.

That present is called our country.

In de name of Allah, the Most Merciful...

Now the same fathers are taking their sons back to Morocco.

To bury them.

How much did he get for this job?

200 euros?

500?

A few grams of coke?

His teeth lie scattered across an industrial site in the promised land.

Peace be upon the prophets.

Peace be upon the prophets.

Grief everywhere.

What's a human life worth?

15k.

For The Pope's head.

Shouldn't we check what the fuck happened first?

How can we be sure it's him?

The Pope with his fucking jealousy and greed.

He's after us all.

He just needed an excuse and he got that last night.

We have to hit back.

Should I get Belgian and Shy? - Those idiots.

We have to keep pushing the stuff, bro.

I haven't got enough crew. I can't just ring a temp agency.

I want an outsider.

Do you know Miroslav, the Albanian? - Did he get Rachid Rambo's whores pregnant?

No, that's Slava.

Miroslav. He did a job for me last year.

You handle all communication.

When do you want it to be done?

Yesterday.

Brutal murder in broad daylight.

How you're doing, Peter R de Vries?

You can go on Pornhub in the bedroom.

Yeah, I thought I'd just jerk myself off.

Any jerking off has got to include me.

Deal. I'll be right with you. Okay?

We have to be up early tomorrow. -I know, sweetie. I'm coming.

Some blow first.

What's up? -Nothing.

Nothing? What the fuck is this?

Dad. His school is merging with another one.

They're letting him go. They have enough janitors.

He didn't say anything. Did he tell you?

What are you going to do? -Nothing yet.

And you keep your mouth shut.

Hey, how come no one's done any shopping?

Did you hear what I said?

Can't you drink normally? Animal. -Animal? We're all mammals.

And I'm not supposed to say anything to Dad. It's gonna cost you, Sis.

A whack round the face is all you'll get.

Niffo.

What was so important?

My father.

He's going to lose his job. -Okay. That's fucked up. So?

I want to help him. I want to give him some of Romano's money.

But he'll just think it's dirty. -Tell Nadira you've got a part-time job.

Give her a few hundred a week. She'll sort it out with your dad.

No. That won't work. She saw you giving me money.

What's up with you?

Romano wants to get rid of The Pope.

And I'm supposed to fix that. Where do I find the fucker?

I don't get it. Don't they see this is a stupid war?

Something's got to happen, right? -Yeah, and where does it end?

Exactly.

Do something for me. Go to the stash-pad, tell Belgian...

you're taking on his clients for now.

One or two days, maximum. Get it?

Sure.

Do you know the PC Hooftstraat? Go and buy out Gucci's mother.

You deserve it.

Adil, the champ. 45 knockouts, everything.

How are you, man? -Look at you, Puff daddy.

Whoa, you know. Fuck her then.

I might have a job for you.

The Pope? I didn't know he'd started up his own business.

I've seen this guy doing some real crazy shit.

Remember him at the Sloterpark pool, with the padlock.

A fractured skull. -I know I was there.

But that's not why I'm here.

I just want to know if you guys are in.

How much has Romano put on it? -15K.

For 15K, we'll drop him off at Romano's, gift-wrapped.

When? -Soon as we've got the location.

It's not a fucking game.

Make sure you're focused.

I've come to get the phone. -What did Romano say?

All I know is, Adil told me to take over your phone.

You're replaceable, mate. You're an iPhone4.

Shut your yap, shitbag. Fucking Erdogan.

If you want, I can call Adil. I don't think he'll be happy.

You know what happened. -And you know why.

Are you trying to say it's my fault?

Bullshit, man.

What's Adil thinking? You're his cousin, so...

Belgian, just give him the bloody phone and carry on weighing.

Hey, don't you want some blow?

You need to have some on you when the phone rings.

And keep it short: time, place, hang up.

Tazz, this rat doesn't have a clue what to do.

Each packet is 1 gram. We don't do half grams.

Those cry-babies always try it on at first.

Tell them to run home to Mummy.

Why're you always so negative? -Fuck off, man.

I don't go on about how you talk like a fucking pussy.

Here you go.

What's that? -Three bags.

Come on, sweetheart.

Stop stressing. We're on time.

It's turned green.

Rein....

I need advice. I'm in the street where Tamara's family live.

Should I just ring the bell? Is that okay?

By the way, I hope it's not too bad... your wife's cancer.

Right. Call me.

Hello, madam.

I'm sorry for bothering you. First, my condolences.

Are you from across the road?

No, I'm from the Parool.

Who's there?

I can't do it, Rein.

Really. -Can't do what?

I'm not going to spend my last few months in a hospital, like a guinea pig.

Every night on that drip is driving me nuts.

Sweetie, the doctor said... -She can say what she likes.

She isn't walking around like a skeleton.

She doesn't have to puke up every morning...

before she can get out of bed.

I can't do it.

Don't you understand that?

At least we can start on our bucket list.

What do you say?

I don't need a guard dog, are you nuts?

Baby, don't talk crazy, Tamara was bloody well pregnant.

The Pope has lost it, he's a loose cannon.

I'm much safer without tracksuit following me.

It's only for the time being, really.

Are you sure about that? -This is not negotiable.

Don't talk like that. -I'm trying to keep you safe.

And why exactly aren't you friends anymore?

You and The Pope. Did you do something to him?

Why does it have to be my fault?

Couldn't he just be a sad, jealous motherfucker?

Shush. Your daughter.

Okay.

Slik, you know Celine already.

From now on you're her shadow until our problem is fixed, mate.

Love the tracksuit.

But what the fuck did Pencil's woman have to do with it then?

What, you think she's a woman so she's not a target?

A tactical hit is what it was.

Tactical? Haven't you seen the news?

Exactly. Pencil was going to marry the whore.

And so?

So now a team of detectives will be crawling all over him every minute of the day.

Romano's corporate interests are all hidden. He can't make a move.

What does Pencil want to do? Fucking bookkeeper...

They needed a lesson.

You wanna just do nothing?

This shit is getting out of hand.

You think they're not gonna hit back, that they'll just keep quiet?

Pencil is weak.

Weak as water.

I'll always watch over you

Why would you choose weakness?

I love you so much

Then you don't deserve it.

That's it.

Say something.

Okay.

Where you going?

Are we really going to do this? -Yes.

I'm not going to spend my last last months crying my eyes out.

So...

you and I are going to pop open a bottle of champagne...

and I don't want to hear any more about it, okay.

Well...

Let me... -No, it's okay.

Why did you marry me?

What do you mean?

I had to ask you four times. Why did you say yes in the end?

I thought it was pretty miserable for you.

It's the least I could do.

Because you're you, Rein.

I belong to you.

Why do I have to prove it?

Hi, Mouse.

Nice jacket. -Thanks.

When are you gonna let me buy you something?

Zeynep, did you get the bottles of Coke? -Not yet.

I told you... -Yes, I'll do it in a minute, Dad.

I'll just help Youssef.

Doner kebab? -Yes.

Eat in or to go? -Eat in.

Hello, Mr. Osman.

From the new collection.

Bro, we have...

I need to show you something.

Honey, go and play for a bit.

Your Albanians can't do it. -Why not?

They're elsewhere. -And the other guys?

They're Antilleans.

Are they reliable? -Let's say, they're crazy, they'll do it.

Your call, bro. You asked me to fix it as fast as possible.

Stick around, keep an eye on that cockroach, Niffo.

I'll have it to go.

Here you go.

Good of you to come.

We've sold a lot of tickets.

We're expecting a full house tonight.

Watch out, it's a real cactus.

Drink. Make yourself at home. Let me know if you need anything.

Hey, you don't happen to have some blow do you?

I'll call my man later. I'll sort it.

Right.

Listen, we really need your taxis.

Bro, I can't do it. My wife is completely paranoid.

Yeah, so what?

Just buy her a Gucci bag.

Bro, I'm only in it for the money.

We really need your taxis.

What for? We haven't got any merchandise.

Exactly. So we're going to Antwerp tomorrow.

To talk to my cousins.

The Makhloufis? -Yeah.

Won't they squeeze you? -Their money is in the shipment too.

Look, we're just going to see if we can make a new deal.

Why haven't we done that already?

Because I want to sort out my own fucking shit.

Make sure the taxis are ready and waiting. Get it?

What are you doing? -Sorry.

Thank you. Top class, as usual. -No tip?

Zeynep, the tip is for you. Don't give it to your father.

Did they even get him?

Bro was wound up, just got stoned. I'm going to check out the situation.

He says he couldn't get a proper look.

Do you really think Pope comes here to eat Osman's rotten doner?

Has he been hit? -Mo said he jumped in the canal up there.

Do you know how cold the canal is? He escaped in his ride. He ain't hit.

Where are you?

I'll be there in half-an-hour.

I need a piss. Come on.

I'm sorry, man. Sorry, bro. -It's fine. Shit happens.

All over your H&M shirt. -It's no H&M.

Here, have a Gin & Tonic. -Yeah, thanks, man. They cost 12.50 here.

I'm Matthijs. -Moshin.

But my friends call me Mo, Mo the show.

Mo the show? -Yes.

Ah, yes, I get it.

Are you that guy in the advert?

You look just like that guy in the train advert.

Are you trying to hit on me? -No, man. No.

It was a joke. You're right, I'm that guy.

What do you do then? -I work for the Parool.

So you're a journalist? -Yes.

Put me on the front page, mate. Rags to riches, Mo the show.

I'm just an intern. I haven't written anything yet.

But you keep in with me.

One day I'll be the CEO. Well, man.

Can I get three of the same drinks?

I'm sorry for disturbing you Mr Chadli. -Chidli.

Your neighbours reported they'd heard something like an argument?

Everything's fine. I'm here alone.

We want to ask you some questions about the liquidation.

What liquidation? -In Osdorp.

We think it may have something to do with what happened to your girlfriend.

Fiancée. -Fiancée.

I have no idea.

I've been here all day. Ask the neighbours.

We've done that already.

Mr Chadli, you're not a suspect any more, you can talk to us...

Oh, so I was once a suspect?

Ro.

They're planning a raid.

Fucking dog. He snitched on us. The Pope is still alive...

Shit, grab anything dodgy.

Out the back door. I'll lock-up.

Wake up Elvira.

Hiya. -I'm on the guest list.

Who put you on the list, honey? -Gianni.

What's your name? -Mouse.

You're on it.

Police.

Sweetheart, put your safety belt on.

Let's see your hands.

Police. Let's see your hands.

Hey, I'm looking for Gianni. -That's me.

I'm here for your order.

Oh right. Wait here, honey.

Coming through. This is... -Mouse.

These guys normally have the best stuff in Amsterdam.

Ewa, brother. Are you a junkie now?

Police.

Police. -On your knees. Hurry up.

On your knees. -Get down. Down.

Let the kid go.

Hands on your head. -Hands on your head.

You are now under arrest.

I've cursed this night often enough.

And longed to have it back again.

It should never have ended.

No. This night should never have happened.

How much is a human life worth?

For some people it's worth fifteen thousand euros.

For others it's a million.

A million tears.

A million fucking tears.

Extracted from Amazon.us Sync by HCW for Adrenaline release.