A NETFLIX ORIGINAL SERIES
God!
No, it isn't going down. Give me another.
-Please, please! -Another one!
Another shot!
Come on, come on, come on.
What's going on?
Okay, he's better, he's better.
He's fine.
-00:26 -00:25
-00:24 -00:23
How much time is left?
Five seconds.
-00:03 -00:02
-00:01 -00:00
Doors are unlocked. Everyone, get ready. Come on!
Get ready! Masks on, now!
Smoke! Now!
Silence!
Fuck, be quiet!
It's only smoke.
Not yet. Hold on.
Helicopters, descending in 30 seconds.
Now! We're going out. Come on!
Now. Fast. Everyone out.
Come on. We're going out.
Everyone out. Fast, fast, fast.
Come on! Out!
Come on, come on! Out!
Fast!
What the fuck?
We can't enter through there.
We have to abort.
I don't care about the balconies. If they have the hostages there,
we'll knock down the main door.
Armored units, move forward!
Come on, come on! The bad guys are at the door.
I'll open the door and you'll get out, arms raised high with these boxes.
Is that what you think, orphan?
Fuck.
They're opening the doors.
All the better. Let's enter with all we have. Now!
I'm telling you to get out there.
Nobody moves.
Get out there, now!
The special forces are arriving. Nobody move.
What are you going to do?
Are you going to shoot us, like your daddy was shot?
Nobody move!
Denver! What are you doing?
Denver!
What are you doing, Denver?
And brother, here's the big surprise. The one you're already thinking about.
White flag!
What is he doing?
White flag!
Target confirmed.
Denver!
I have the target in sight. He's in my line of fire.
Requesting permission to shoot.
I repeat, requesting permission to shoot.
A state can accept that they had to deploy the army on the streets.
A state can allow you to go into the national reserve and steal the gold,
but there's something they can't allow happen.
A state can't tolerate you getting to their secrets.
If we get those red boxes out, and they see them,
it will only take them a second to realize what we have in our hands,
and they'll be ours.
Those sons of bitches.
Because in those 24 boxes,
there are the secrets from the Ministry of the Interior,
Ministry of Foreign Affairs, Intelligence, and how they spend the reserve fund.
The sewers of the state!
All those things the system can't allow to go public,
or they'd go down the drain where their own shit is hidden.
Sons of bitches!
Stop the assault!
I repeat. Abort. Respect the white flag and withdraw.
Is it possible for those cocksuckers to dive inside the chamber?
I don't know, Colonel.
-I don't know. -For God's sake!
Yes!
Gay sex is the best in the world, and do you know why?
It's obvious.
Because there are no women.
You aren't homosexual, you're misogynistic.
-How were you not born in a cauldron? -No, ma'am.
Don't mistake misogyny with biology. They're facts. It's very simple.
We, men, need to get rid of our poison.
Every few hours, we need to boom boom.
Later, we reject the body that we spilled it onto.
It doesn't matter which body, we can't help but to reject it.
Then, we say, "Ciao."
Boom, boom, ciao.
-Beautiful. -Homosexual sex.
Sex between women is also homosexual.
Boom, boom, ciao. Two men meet and they relieve each other.
Boom, boom, ciao. They don't even know each other's names. Wonderful.
Do you know what's wonderful?
The fantastic fucks women can enjoy.
And we can do it ten times in succession...
-Or more. -And multiple orgasms.
We can cum for hours, not in five seconds.
I'm not saying that God didn't give you the possibility of feeling pleasure,
saying that would be misogynistic.
I am simply saying you don't need it.
-In that case... -It's not as organic a need
as it is for men. Let me explain myself.
The world is full of saunas where men meet and relieve each other.
Public parks, public toilets, where we find each other and do the deed.
It's seminal altruism.
Where are those saunas for women?
-We don't need them. -You don't?
-Of course not. -They don't exist.
Where are the public toilets where you rub your tits? They don't exist.
I'm going to tell you why, and it's controversial.
That's because female sex is conditioned by procreation.
In some way or another, you're looking for a man to exchange genes.
To form a family, which is revolting.
You have too many things in your head.
We have only one. Ejaculate.
That's why we do: boom, boom, ciao.
Boom, boom, ciao. Boom, boom, ciao.
Gay sex!
Boom, boom, ciao.
Look, your theory is fucking shit, but the rhythm is catchy.
No.
-Boom, boom, ciao. -I'm out of here.
Boom, boom, ciao.
-Professor! -Boom, boom, ciao.
-Come on, Professor. -Boom, boom, ciao.
Professor!
Boom, boom, ciao.
-Boom, boom, ciao. -Let your hair down, Professor!
-Boom, boom, ciao.
Boom, boom, ciao.
Good night.
I can leave, if you want. No problem.
Okay.
We have to be practical, Helsinki.
You were good. You're a titan. That's true, I can say that.
But we're professionals.
Not like the rest of the idiots in this gang, right?
Right.
Can you imagine going in there carrying an emotional backpack?
It's absurd, don't you think? We pumped out our poison.
We did the boom, boom. And now...
Now, ciao.
No backpack.
Well, now we're blood brothers.
Brothers, pals, something like that. Aren't we?
Yes, brothers.
What's wrong?
It's better I sleep here.
Tomorrow is a big day.
He fucked you and kicked you out.
What a disgusting asshole!
-Between men, that's the way. -You're not like that.
I've traveled the world with you, and you're a teddy bear, darling.
And if you could spend the next 12 hours cuddling him, you'd prefer that.
We're colleagues. Brothers.
You're not his brother!
Helsinki!
You have to love yourself more.
And get over that disrespectful asshole.
The next time he tells you, "Boom, boom," you tell him, "Ciao."
And that he can stick his boom-boom up his ass.
Okay.
Helsi.
Are you in love?
Brothers.
Damn.
There are weird days.
You should be in an important meeting,
but a while ago, you were clinically dead and dressed as a diver.
You're still wearing the neoprene,
and you really don't know if you're dead or alive.
You feel as if you had the biggest hangover in the world, and you wonder...
"Is this hell?
What did I do wrong?" You didn't do anything wrong.
Well, the same as everyone else.
Being in the wrong place...
at the worst time of all.
Governor?
Governor!
Your heart almost exploded.
We injected enough Diazepam in you for a whole family. Please lie down.
I'm perfectly fine.
Easy, easy.
Be careful.
If you're feeling fine,
come with me. I'm going to show you what a beauty we've built.
Come, Governor. Look.
Look. What do you smell? Smell!
What's the smell?
That's it! There's no smell. Industrial extractors.
The gases go through the machine and they get liquefied.
Then, it goes to the vault.
Atmospheric contamination, zero.
But be careful tomorrow, because there will be way too much CO2.
Here...
We're melting 52 ingots per hour.
We've already reached cruising speed.
Those are state assets.
And every single drop is there.
We already melted 1600 kilos. Isn't that right?
How many days have I been unconscious?
Four hours.
Come here, Mr. Mario. This is the best part.
Look at that.
Look, Mr. Mario. This is the best part.
Come, come.
Look how it spills out.
Look how it spills out. There! So beautiful!
Good evening, Governor. Chorizo?
Here, we turn the melted gold into grains.
Pips of gold, like rice grains.
We do everything with bubbles.
It's addictive.
Look at these!
Golden seeds, Governor.
Miss, what you're doing here will bring countless consequences.
That's the lesson: Nothing is free.
Everything we do has consequences.
Almost a million people surround the Bank of Spain.
The government is under a lot of pressure.
And the big question, Sara Solomando,
what was in those boxes to make the police and the army stop the assault?
For now, Cristina, all our questions have been answered with silence.
Since the assault was aborted, many official cars have arrived,
from the highest ranks.
Among them, the Minister of the Interior, the State Secretary of Foreign Affairs
and the Chief of the Defense Staff.
and the crowd was not happy to see any of them.
The consequences have begun to arrive.
The Minister of the Interior, the Chief of the Defense Staff,
all of them came to the command center
during the four hours the governor had been unconscious.
The Prime Minister wants the crowd to be dispersed immediately.
Tell him that if we disperse the crowd with water cannons,
tomorrow we won't have one million people out there, but two.
The European Union is demanding information.
They want to know if the contents in the boxes implicate them.
Of course it implicates them, but they can't know that.
Understood?
Your job is to reduce the diplomatic pressure so I can do my job.
They already think there must be something quite big.
They saw how the Spanish forces stopped an assault against seven delinquents.
Colonel Tamayo had tried it,
but as in a game of chess,
the Professor and Berlin's plan had changed everything.
One move
and now it was them who were under the threat of a checkmate
against the king and the rest of the government's institutions.
The contents of those 24 boxes took less than an hour to get to Pakistan.
Our legion of hackers opened a secure and undetectable email account
through an opaque satellite.
If we published that information, they would be dead.
And they knew it.
What's the real size of the leak?
Colonel?
Minister.
The size of the leak...
Europe causing a war in Libya because of personal interests.
Payments to Morocco in exchange for leaving immigrants in the desert.
The confidential agreement to look away from the Mediterranean.
Seventy-four shipwrecks that could've been avoided, hundreds drowned.
Even if it sounds old, all the details
about the creation of a terrorist group in the south of France. Do you want more?
The contents of those boxes condemn this government and the previous ones.
The shit is going to land on Spain, the European Union, and NATO.
And what's worse...
we'd be bringing ourselves down. You, you, you and me.
Are we willing to end up in the court? Is that what the prime minister wants?
Is there any prime minister in Europe who wants to go to jail?
That's the size of the fucking leak.
We can't negotiate with that man.
If he has the secrets, he will always be a threat.
So?
What do you propose?
We can only do one thing.
You know it well.
Good evening, I'm Alicia Sierra, for those who don't know me.
And I'm going to be in charge of the robbery's negotiations.
Let the party begins.
I want three little things. I know you can do it.
I want to know how much gasoline they have to feed the emergency generators.
Second,
bring in the underground teams
so they can tell me exactly what's under there.
Tunnels, galleries, sewers.
Okay? And third,
Antoñanzas.
Antoñanzas?
Inspector?
Okay. Donuts, licorice, lollipops, and that melon-shaped gum.
My hormones are all over the place
and I need to seem like a sweet, empathetic woman
when I talk to that fucking Professor. How's that sound?
Everything's peachy. I leave you in charge.
Okay. Come on.
Martínez.
Inspector, we're trying to triangulate the calls.
Inspector.
What country was he detained in? Why was he brought in a secret plane?
The pregnant woman who tortures.
Even the monkeys from Madagascar are going to know about me.
He fell like a rag doll.
Go and get me some chewing gum.
ALLEGED ILLEGAL INTERROGATION
I look fat.
Yesterday, we were discussing how to buy time if we're arrested here, in Spain.
But what happens if we're able to rob the Royal Mint,
escape with the money, and then, after some time,
Interpol arrests us in a foreign country?
In all likelihood, they will hold us in that country to...
well, to make use of what they call enhanced interrogation techniques.
Torture.
The only good news is that
at a certain time, we can use it to our advantage.
Using torture to our advantage? Cool. How come I didn't think of that?
Even if they sidestep the law,
even if they sidestep the laws guaranteeing our rights, sooner or later,
they have to bring us back to Spain, and that means transfers, vans.
That's the moment in which you have to look completely destroyed,
because there's always someone looking.
And if the people see and feel that brutality...
that's when we have our chance to negotiate.
Did you come from the bathroom?
Yes.
Did you go to deposit your solid detritus at 12:00 p.m. in the shared bathroom?
To shit? Yes. Is there any problem?
That's the bathroom we all use, what if I have to go now?
Then light a match, for fuck's sake.
Or cover your nose with that finger you always have up your ass
and that makes you be so standoffish. You have options.
Do you know what smell is? Smells are particles.
Particles that were in the grime of your intestines,
placidly flying around and they got out...
with your detritus, through your anus, laying waste to everything!
And now I have to accept it going into my nose?
Then, cover your fucking nose.
What, you don't shit?
Every day, religiously, like a watch, but in the wee hours of the morning.
First, because of privacy, but especially, out of respect...
-Respect, you say? -Out of respect.
I don't think anyone has to inhale the particles of my shit.
Let's not get too refined.
If we start with the taboo against taking a dump,
we'll end up calling each other "mister."
-I like to be called "mister." -What a surprise.
Look.
I know I am not an elegant man like you, mister.
I know I don't know as many things as you do, mister.
And I only know how to open holes where not even God would dare to open them.
But most importantly,
I would risk my life for my people, if it were necessary.
And the question is...
are you part of my team or not?
The question is if I would risk my life for you.
That's the question.
The answer is that, despite your habits learned in a shit-hole boarding school
and your fondness for crosswords, if we go into the Mint together...
we'll get out together.
So, are we all friends again? Yes?
Great.
What we were talking about is very important.
We all run the risk of being arrested.
Let's see.
Palermo? Can you see anything with that eye?
I see your Russian Orthodox beard, fucking Serbian.
Or is it Jeremiah Johnson's beard?
What I don't see is the fucking mule. Where did you leave it?
I can see fine, fatty.
Let's see the other eye.
Don't worry. Your eye needs to heal. It will be better tomorrow.
Let's put the patch on.
I'm going to grab a cane.
Palermo, are you there?
Eagle eye! I'm listening, Professor.
Is Tokyo there?
Yes, she's here.
Professor.
Tokyo...
Rio is in Spain.
Thank you.
I hope I'll be able to hug you...
and thank you in person very soon.
Of course you will.
Tokyo, we still have to do the most difficult part, but we'll get it done.
We'll get it done.
All actions,
all of them,
have consequences.
And the police...
Colonel!
...in the darkest time,
were going to see a light.
-We're starting to triangulate the signal. -Like a mobile phone?
It isn't as precise, by a long shot.
UIT has receivers everywhere in Spain.
The signal turns up in Galicia, Alicante and even the rest of Europe.
But it emits more intensively from the south of the peninsula.
-I think they're transmitting from there. -How precise is this?
This is the radius.
He's running the robbery from the beach? On holiday with his cousin Rosita?
Come on!
It doesn't make sense for him to be close. He did this in the previous robbery, sir.
He will take for granted that we'll search every building in the area.
So they went to Portugal, Andalusia, Morocco?
Every place is safer than Madrid.
He only needs a phone and a radio.
Colonel, he knows our protocols.
And there aren't any about investigating a robbery with hostages 400 miles away
from the crime scene.
What happens if you go there?
-Well, the area is still very wide. -Fuck that, Angel!
-We need to narrow it down. -Go there, right now!
And absolute discretion.
I would rather have you there
than a couple of Civil Guards from a small town
that would only scare them away.
Martínez! Come here!
Yes.
You're going to work with him.
Study this signal exclusively. Only this one.
Okay.
And this stays between us. Don't tell anyone.
I would love to do a trip like this with you some weekend.
I mean, without having to rob anything.
Yes, it could be our honeymoon.
Yes.
Well, for that we would need to marry first.
Well, I'm already living with your mother. Marrying you wouldn't be an issue.
Excuse me?
-What the fuck was that? -Excuse me?
Marrying you wouldn't be an issue? Are you fucking kidding with that?
You're just put it out there and then puss out?
-It was just a comment. -Forget it.
Forget it, because you're making it worse.
Call Marseille.
Yes.
Hey...
if you want to marry me,
ask for my hand properly.
Look for a place to pull over.
PRIETO
Inspector. It's him.
Professor.
Inspector Sierra? What a joy! I was looking forward to talking with you.
Yes, I know you like to negotiate with policewomen.
Aren't you going to ask me what I'm wearing?
I imagine maternity clothes.
Oh, how old-fashioned you are!
Are you one of those men who wear undershirts?
Actually, I am, but...
Inspector, the classics never die. Don't you think?
Alas, you can look like Pablo Escobar with an undershirt
or like Marlon Brando in A Streetcar Named Desire.
Touché.
Tell me, then.
Have you ever recorded yourself making love?
Let me think...
No, the truth is I haven't.
I guess I've always had qualms about it because I'm a shy man.
In that case, I can help you.
Raquel!
You are listening, aren't you?
Raquel?
Hello, Alicia. Long time no see.
A long time, yes.
I'm surprised your Professor is too shy to ask you to record yourselves
having sex.
You did it in the second year of Academy.
With Hortigosa. Fuck!
Alicia, you disappoint me.
Listen.
I'm going to tell you what you're doing.
You're trying to take control of the conversation
with a friendly disposition, and then you will drop a bomb to try to divide us.
Negotiations 101.
Not at all. I was only entertaining myself.
I'm dropping the bomb now.
You've been classified as terrorists, so I got the CIA, Interpol,
and fucking everyone searching for your mother and your daughter.
I don't know where they are,
but I'm guessing you didn't run away to Norway,
but to an idyllic country with a poor, inefficient police force.
South Asia, for example.
That's what I would do.
Do you know what's bad about those countries, Raquel?
You tell me, Alicia.
The jails.
They're disgusting.
Overcrowding, infections...
drugs and killings.
All kinds of things, and your mother is there!
With her age and how confused she is. And Paula?
Little Paula?
I can delay an extradition for a long time,
I can't imagine her there, crying every night
in an orphanage in Jakarta. Damn, poor girl.
Congratulations, Raquel. Great job. You won a wimp.
I'm sure he's one of those who only want sex once a month, and you lost a family.
If you hand over the Professor, I will leave them alone.
Why did you tell her that?
Because this is a card game, and I went all-in.
And now they will be fucked for a while. And that's what the game is about.
Screwing someone.
Calm down.
-It was a bluff. -You called and you lost control.
You took my control away.
She was playing you. She manipulated you.
Me?
-And you were smiling like a puppet! -She manipulated you!
She hung up and we didn't even play our cards.
She went after you because you're the weak link.
Hey, mutt!
Bring me water.
What did you call me?
Mutt.
But I can also call you doner kebab, gypsy or melon seller.
Do you want to go nose-to-nose with me and piss me off?
I don't.
I don't even want to think of the number of asses that nose has been in.
You're Gandía. Aren't you?
Is it just me or is there a lot of negativity in the air?
Very bad vibes.
Take me to him, I want to talk to him.
Leave us alone.
He's sitting in front of you.
I smell sulfur.
I don't see very well, but...
I'm developing other senses.
And my intuition tells me that you don't respect us.
It's what jerks with masks deserve.
They don't command respect.
A logical thought coming from someone of your position,
but you're wrong about me.
You watched too much TV. Do you think we're Robin Hood?
That we're adorable teddy bears with Dalí masks?
What I think is that you're a sudaca, one-eyed, faggot son of a bitch.
Sudaca.
Yes, I'm sudaca. That's true.
But I'm from the German school. Berlin's.
Don't move!
I love piñatas.
Don't move!
Son of a bitch!
-Palermo! -Don't move! Don't move!
I am the sudaca that's going to repatriate the gold you plundered, asshole.
Denver, stop him!
Palermo! Denver, stop him!
Gold bathed in American blood! Satanic, ritualistic!
-Fucking reptile! -Stop!
Better kill me. If not, I'm going to rip your intestines out of your ass
-with a pair of pliers. -I'm going to kill him!
Son of a bitch! Come here!
I'm going to kill you!
Nobody move!
Come here and hit me harder! Hit me harder! Son of a bitch!
Son of a bitch! Come here!
You've put us on the same fucking level as the Taliban.
What were you trying to prove?
Authority?
Beating up a guy that's tied down?
You only proved that you're a piece of shit!
Then untie him and I'll beat him up with just one hand! That fucker, bring him!
This fucking psycho is who the Professor put in charge?
No, no, no. Listen to me, Palermo. Here we have a plan and we have rules.
The Professor's rules.
And he's the one in charge.
Where the fuck is the Professor? Where is Mr. Professor? He's never here!
Raise your hand if you have the scepter of command!
I have the scepter of command! I'm the one in charge!
Easy, easy.
I'm going to explain something to you about the rules,
the son of a thousand bitches
who dares to insult any member of the team, I will break his skull.
And you, mutt, you will stay silent. Did you hear me?
Unless you want to open your mouth to thank me
because I defended you, for example. What do you say?
I don't need a piece of crap like you to defend me.
Don't you realize that in the same way you've beaten up a defenseless guy,
I could grab my rifle, crack your skull, leave you fucked...
and take charge.
Really?
Helsinki, tie her up.
Tie up her hands and feet, and take her to the forge for mutiny. Right now.
Don't even think about it. Helsi, Helsi!
-Nairobi. -Helsi.
"Helsi?"
"Oh, Helsi." Sorry.
I think you're addressing him from your emotional backpack. Am I right?
Do you really think you can be Helsinki's woman?
What, Nairobi? Following an impossible love? Why is that?
Are you lying to yourself? Or do you want to play mommy?
I regret to inform you the only role you can assume now is the faggot's friend.
You're the fucking fag hag. I'm sorry. Helsinki loves me.
I'm sorry.
Let me tell you something that you need to know, because you're old enough.
In the relationships of love, we have the lover and the beloved.
The lover lives the relationship with passion, devotion, and romanticism.
The beloved...
simply enjoys being worshiped.
I'm not saying being a lover is a bad thing.
Don't get me wrong, please.
But do you know what?
Lovers suffer a lot, dear.
Whereas, I have my fun.
The only yield I get is sex.
It's the fucking law of love, Nairobi. I'm sorry. It's the way it is.
The only miserable one in this whole story...
is you.
With your speech about love, and "Boom, boom, ciao." Wow.
That's because... you are too coward to admit the truth.
The only truth is the reality.
And I'm going to explain it to you. Look. You love fatty.
Fatty loves me.
And I don't love anyone. And that's precisely why...
you hate me.
You don't love anyone?
Of course you don't, darling.
You don't have the balls for it.
To love you need courage.
I have courage. Look.
Helsi.
I love you. I love you so much...
that I would have a family with you.
See? This is bravery.
I feel it and I say it.
And that...
you don't know how to do.
How long has it been?
Ten years? You were in love with Berlin for ten years?
And you never dared to tell him.
Of course. You worshiped him and followed him like a dog.
And that's it.
Now what?
Nothing is possible now.
He's dead.
And you're empty.
The only thing you can do is hide behind that damn speech. Boom, boom, ciao.
Because you know.
You've been left in the lurch forever, friend.
Let's get back to work.