We're at the position.
Where are you?
Approaching the village.
Landmines. Leszek is down!
Take your positions.
We're going in. Stay sharp.
Take cover. Mortar.
They're running away!
Eleven o'clock. Shoot!
You got them.
As you can see, nothing of interest.
It's relatively quiet up here,
if such a thing can be said about Afghanistan at all.
And the incident last week?
Is that why you've come?
I saw a report on the news in Kabul.
We received a tip-off about Taliban hiding out in the village...
Our convoy was attacked, we lost a soldier...
Shooting ensued, during which three civilians were killed.
Killed by a sniper's bullets.
War.
Mistakes happen.
In July, the Americans bombed a Taliban village.
Turned out to be the wrong village.
Colonel.
The sniper killed a woman and two old men.
- He could see who he was shooting at. - Yes.
The prosecutors carried out an initial investigation.
It was early morning. There was a sandstorm.
Seems to be an unfortunate accident.
Could I talk to the soldier?
Sergeant Waśko...
Mr. Editor...
Just leave him in peace, please.
The boy's taking it hard, and...
Why write about it?
He's got family, friends, neighbors...
Local television's reporting on this.
News like that is the daily fare here. But no one in Poland watches it.
Fine.
- Thank you, Colonel. - Thank you.
Goodbye.
My name's Matula, I'm a journalist. I'd like to talk to you.
- What about? - About the incident. I understand...
Fuck off.
I want to help you
get it all sorted out in your own conscience.
Get the fuck out of here. Now!
A pound of onions, please.
Choose yourself a melon. They're ripe and juicy.
- I'll have a pound of green beans. - Just a moment.
- How much is it? There's no price. - Yes, there is.
If the Lord God is to be thanked for anything, then it's for the onion.
And the tomato, too. He must have created them on the first day,
while His heart was still in the job. Nothing else is that perfect.
- Why are you squeezing that? - I'm checking them.
You gave me a bag of soft ones last time. Half-rotten.
Half-rotten? Me? You must've bought them somewhere else.
If you don't like it, then leave.
Somewhere else?
Fuck your tomatoes! What nerve!
INSPIRED BY REAL EVENTS
- Why are you feeding my cat? - He's hungry.
You don't feed him.
He's supposed to catch mice. He doesn't when he's full.
He's right. Cats are intelligent species.
It's my cat, don't feed him. Or I'll tell my son-in-law!
First troops started dying in 2007 after the liquidation of the Polish
counterintelligence in Afghanistan. How can you sleep, knowing...
As you can hear, this gentleman did not do his homework
and is following the steps of Mr. Pawłowski. Don't go down that road.
Yes.
Well...
I can. Got it.
Why all this fuss?
Couldn't you have just called me into the office?
Get in. If I could have, I would have.
Head for the lake.
Cell phone.
The cap.
- How many years did you still have to go? - Seven.
Quite some time.
If you'd done the full stretch, you'd have come out an old codger.
I exercised in prison. Push-ups mostly.
We're watching you.
You've calmed down. You don't mix with your old mates.
They're all dead.
Or in the slammer.
You were left alone.
But there was quite a stir.
All the papers were writing about it. Sieniawa turned into a national hero
and Seweryn grassed you all up. Don't you have a grudge against him?
Seweryn didn't know shit.
He knew enough to get the lot of you sent down.
And now he's resting nice and easy somewhere in the sun.
Come on...
Don't you envy him?
Doesn't it pay to make friends with us?
Here you are running after whores in a country covered with snow.
What's all this about, Mr Prosecutor, sir? Because I'm a bit lost.
- You're needed. - Me? I'm still necessary to someone?
A hundred thousand dollars.
And a passport to a new life.
I'm not up to it anymore.
Prison did my nerves in.
So maybe you wouldn't like to go back there?
It's that serious?
Who?
A prime pig.
One of your own?
What's going down? Civil war?
The lesser evil to prevent the greater.
I wouldn't know about that.
You're the prosecutor. To me, evil is whoever's after my wallet.
You've got a point.
I can't. Really. I'm out of the game.
You won't be alone. We'll be helping you.
You're better off sorting it on your own.
I'm not that powerful.
- Which is why you're needed. - Really?
There's no way out.
Things went too far.
- Nothing's happened yet. - Something's happened.
Our conversation. It'd be enough to put you back in jail.
Get a grip on your nerves. Practice a bit. Get back in shape.
May I?
A beer in the morning?
You're out?
Parole.
What are you going to do?
You looking for something?
We're trying to get something together here.
- Retirement. - No kidding.
You've got more brains than all the rest of us.
Too right.
Which is why I'm relaxing in the sun living off what the police didn't find.
- Will they let you leave the country? - I'm not going to ask.
Well, you know where to find us.
Excuse me, sir.
- What? - Could we have our ball back?
What do you say?
Sorry?
You bet.
We don't play football in the street. That's what playgrounds are for.
In the street you're exposing yourselves to danger.
All the cars. An accident waiting to happen, right?
I'll give you back the ball if you promise you'll go to the park.
We promise.
Well, all right. I believe you.
Go fuck yourself, you wrinkly old jerk!
She okay?
I'll be back in two hours.
Take it off.
And dance a bit.
You want me to dance?
What do you think?
I can get it up just like that, at my age?
Mrs. Wisniewska? Good morning!
Why, if it isn't you, Mr Trzeciak, sir! I barely recognized you!
And where have you been, away from here?
I was in America, went there to work. It's been a few years.
But you never even gave us a sign of life.
There's me thinking, Dear God above, just let him not be in jail...
- But America! Earning yourself some dough! - Please, don't worry. We'll settle up.
That forester, he wanted to buy your boat, but I didn't sell it to him.
How would that have looked, selling someone else's property?
And how's my cabin? Still standing?
Still standing, no one's even peeped inside.
The smell must be terrible.
How much do I owe you, Mrs Wiśniewska?
I don't know... A good few years I've been watching your cabin.
Will that do?
I dunno... Seems a bit short to me...
Short? But how much work did you have to do?
I kept an eye...
I mean, you're keeping all sorts of things here. I saw for myself.
I didn't say a word.
I know you were in prison and not in America...
It was on the TV. And you're not called Mr Trzeciak, but Mr Something with a Z.
Karol Z, they said, if I recall rightly. AKA Lulek.
And I never said a word, not to anyone, not to the police.
That's worth a few thousand, I'd say, wouldn't you?
A few?
Fifteen?
Ten at the very least.
Don't blink.
Surely you can manage a minute without blinking?
I can see hypertension and diabetes in the fundus of the eye,
but you need to have a check-up.
Glasses won't help in the slightest.
I've never needed glasses. I've always had 20/20 vision.
Always?
Have a look at your ID. There's a line there, “date of birth”.
And there's no cure for that.
WARSAW DISTRICT COURT PRAGA SOUTH
Come in.
Lulek? What are you doing here?
- It's Thursday. - So what? You don't have to report in.
Didn't they tell you?
They've taken all your papers.
- They have? - Well, yes.
I've got nothing to do with you anymore.
Lulek.
Nice camouflage.
Brzozowski.
You look like a harmless pensioner.
- I am a harmless pensioner. - Open the trunk.
AK-97. The latest model.
Confiscated, actually. From a smuggler. Not registered anywhere. Try it for size.
And here's a pass for all the military ranges.
So you don't have to go lurking in nearby forests.
Major Ziemowit Deląg?
Professional training officer for the Ministry.
Don't laugh. The guy really exists.
Poor guy lost his pass.
Sergeant Stanislaw Waśko, now free of the charge of unintentional manslaughter,
agreed to appear in front of Szczecin TV cameras.
Are you relieved now all the months of uncertainty are over?
Relieved?
I don't feel anything at all.
The papers are calling me a murderer, and for what?
I can't get a job, the army discharged me, my neighbors ignore me, and why?
There's a war, sandstorms badly restrict your view, and you might get wiped out
at any moment...
I only did my duty.
- Good morning. - Good morning.
I'm looking for Stanislaw. Is he home?
- Are you from the papers? - God forbid.
I'm the father of one of his mates from the army. My son was in Afghanistan.
The papers have been bothering him.
Just sniffing around for scandal, not giving a damn about human beings.
And the army was everything to him.
Always was. He grew up on the training grounds.
His father was an NCO in the sappers, until he was killed by a mine himself.
Stasiek was ten when it happened. And now the newspapers...
It's what the world's come to, I'm afraid.
And Stasiek's working at the car wash. His uncle gave him a job.
Shut that window, the wash isn't done.
What time do you finish?
- Why? - We have something to discuss.
What something?
Something that'll bring you a bit more luck in life. What time do you finish?
- I've got a lunch break. At one. - And where do you go for lunch?
Here.
Is there a bar over there?
- Yeah, at the square. - Any good?
As good as any.
Well, then, allow me to invite you. At one. Here's your tip.
All because of that son of a bitch. Without him there'd have been no tribunal.
And why did that fucker have it in for me?
Once he wrote it up, they had to launch an investigation.
And then that prick came back again, I asked him why he was doing it.
And he goes,
“It's a journalist's duty. The public has the right to be informed.”
So I ask him if the same applies to the fact that he shat himself.
Because he did when a grenade went off a few meters away from him.
The whole company were pissing themselves laughing for a week.
- Maybe this is how he gets his revenge? - Could be.
Fucking prick, ruining a man's life for nothing.
I didn't laugh at him.
I even felt sorry for him,
because, in his place, maybe I'd shit myself?
Shrapnel screaming past and if he hadn't thrown himself on the ground...
Someone yells, "Grenade!”, and the bloke throws himself down and shits himself.
Fucking prick-head fucker.
Don't swear so much. It's a sign of weakness.
Weakness? Everyone swears in the army. And the officers are the worst.
Because they're afraid. The whole time. They're afraid.
Right.
I'll call you before long. Wait.
Matula! Andrzej!
Call for you, on the city line.
Hello?
Would you be interested in some material on corruption in the City Hall?
Could be. What material?
Documents. All sorts. From the last two years.
- Bring it along. We'll have a look. - Well, no, I'd rather not be seen.
Nothing to fear. Journalist's privilege is an unbending rule here.
I've seen that go both ways too. I've read about it.
You can have complete confidence in me.
I'll leave a few documents at your office, downstairs in a red cardboard folder...
I'll call tomorrow. If you're interested, I'll hand over the rest.
As long as you guarantee me the whole thing will come out.
I need to see what we've got first. Call me on my cell, okay?
- 885904904. Have you got that? - I got it.
Hang on! Why? What's this about?
You don't need to know.
Christ! What's going on?
Police! Move! Get down!
Hands at your back!
- What's going on? - You'll know soon enough.
- Let me get dressed. - Don't struggle!
So what were you doing between seven and eight yesterday evening?
I already told you. I was at home.
Can anyone corroborate that?
- My mother. - Only your mother?
That's a bit weak.
Could you finally tell me what this is all about?
INVESTIGATIVE JOURNALIST BRUTALLY GUNNED DOWN ON HIS OWN DOORSTEP
It says they killed him in Szczecin?
Well, I didn't finish work until 6:30.
I got cleaned up, changed and went home.
By what miracle could I have got to Szczecin?
- Can someone corroborate that? - The boss. And the guys at work.
But still, you'll admit that it could've been you that shot him?
Because I'm getting the feeling that being a suspect hasn't shaken you.
I'm not surprised at all that someone's finally blown him away.
He was a world-class scumbag.
An investigative journalist.
Who could've taken him out?
I don't know. Whole bunch of people, probably.
But they say you threatened him, that there was a quarrel...
I might have told him I'll kill him one day... Can I go now?
You can.
Is someone going to give me a lift home?
We don't have that kind of budget to play with. Catch a bus.
I'm going to file a complaint.
Anti-terrorism guys broke into my home and brutally beat me and my mother.
There were no grounds for that kind of behavior.
In that case, you're top of the list of suspects.
You could have called me in and interviewed me like a human being
instead of demeaning my dignity and the honor of a Polish Army soldier.
You're not a soldier anymore.
And cut out the attitude, we haven't finished with you yet.
Fuck off, you pitiful little prick.
Is there anyone on the range?
Not a soul. They train in the mornings here.
It's not like that in Bydgoszcz. You have to book the range a week in advance.
- This way? - Straight ahead.
A driver brings him home in the evening. Drives into the garage.
The gate opens automatically.
The driver walks through the side gate, gets into his Opel and drives off.
In the morning he drives out of the garage with the boss. The car has tinted windows.
There's no visual of him in any situation.
The gate could be jammed. Then he'd get out.
Then his driver would get out.
Sometimes he drives himself at night. But he doesn't get out of the car.
He drives into the garage, and out of the garage.
So we wait in the garage, then.
Which one?
His, at home? The one at Police HQ? Or maybe the one at the Ministry?
Take your pick.
And there's me thinking you're a pro.
Maybe he goes somewhere else as well? Not just the garages?
It can't be some random spot. It has to be planned and set up.
Action, evacuation. Without leaving a trace of evidence.
You've got one chance. You screw up, the whole thing's fucked.
I need a lot more information.
We'll give you some.
Have a good look at him.
I might've seen him before. On TV.
Very likely. Anyway, remember him well. His name's Siemiradzki. Like the painter.
Here's an advance. I imagine you'll be incurring some expenses.
A bomb.
Wouldn't it be simpler just to lay a charge, Mr Prosecutor, sir?
You must be joking?
Collateral damage. Collateral victims. 50 percent certainty.
Shoot and evacuate, simple as that. No one's got anything better.
It's your speciality.
I don't know how you're envisioning it. Am I meant to follow him around or what?
Somehow, you never needed my advice to wipe out half the bosses in Poland.
Right.
What did you tell your mother?
That there's a job coming up in Warsaw.
- And your boss at the car wash? - Same thing.
Good.
You should always tell them the truth as far as you can.
That way you avoid losing track of the lies.
You'll be staying here.
It doesn't stand out and they don't ask for your information.
Give me your phone.
Hey, hang on a minute...
That's how they located Bin Laden.
This is a prepaid phone. You call only me. I've got the same.
No other calls, so they can't get a trace on it.
- And who might be getting a trace on it? - Don't be stupid.
Did they take you in for questioning?
- Well, yes, but that was a total mistake. - Not entirely.
- What do you mean, not entirely? - You wanted revenge.
You could have hired someone like me to do the killing.
- What do you mean, hire someone? - Yeah.
They'll be watching you. Tracing you. Then me. We met. We chatted.
But I don't a strong alibi. I was in Szczecin at the time.
- You were? - I was. Visiting my sister.
All right.
I haven't got a sister.
Are you taking the piss?
Try to go out as little as possible. Don't wander round the hotel.
If you have to phone, use a pay phone. I'll pick you up tomorrow at three.
I'll be waiting in the car park.
If we'd like to get some long-distance training?
- No chance of that here. - Where, then?
- Nowhere. - On a training ground in Drawsko.
Thanks.
Am I supposed to call you Major?
Better not. You might let that slip in the wrong company.
That was fast.
It's a good rifle. The best in Poland.
So what's this all about?
I can't tell you. Yet.
You can't tell me what I'm doing here?
You've got a chance of getting back into the military. That's all.
- To Afghanistan? - No. In a different unit.
So that's why we was training on the range?
Don't say "we was".
"That's why we were training" is how you say it in Polish.
What's wrong with "was"? That's how normal people talk.
Because it's ugly. And what's the singular of "we was training" going to be?
Huh?
I were training? That's fine too, in your opinion, is it?
I were training?
According to the archives, 50 years ago
this house should have been dismantled.
The communication node was never built, but this decision will ruin the lives
of the current family.
I did nothing to these people.
- Give me back my wallet! - Fuck off!
- Easy. - You want it easy?
Easy.
You want it easy? There you have it.
Are you okay?
Could I come in and tidy myself up? I can't be seen like this.
Sure.
Thanks.
That was hard!
Thank you for saving me.
I heard screaming, so I went outside.
No one would do that here normally.
That bastard could butcher me and nobody would get off their ass.
Did you take his wallet?
What wallet? He didn't have a wallet.
He cooked that up so he wouldn't have to pay me.
Well? How do you want it?
I... don't know...
All right. First, I'll give you a blowjob and you can think it over.
Yeah.
Okay.
- Get packing. - What's going on exactly?
A guy beaten up. Any minute now, he'll sober up and be here with the police.
Or with his mates. Get yourself to the car!
Nothing that terrible happened...
Shut it. I can't let you out of my sight for a minute.
He'd have killed her...
And what's that to you? You want to fix the whole world?
You're not happy with how it is? There's been a few like that already,
starting with Jesus Christ. But somehow, none of them were very successful.
It almost always ends badly, I'd say.
You'll be sleeping here.
Will you tell me what's this all about? Because it's starting to piss me off.
You listen to me, you little shit.
Either do what I say and maybe you'll make something of yourself,
or you'll be washing cars for the rest of your days.
You're free to choose.
But I'd rather know why I have to hide away.
I haven't done anything wrong.
But you will.
Are you listening to that?
I can't stand silence at home.
Maybe we could watch something else?
A film or a series. Something cheerful...
I don't watch films, either.
Those actors are just faking. They don't know shit about life itself.
And that lot aren't faking?
Them? Nah. They're just lying.
Yeah, right. I can't bear to watch them.
Nobody can.
Someone votes for them.
They don't just materialize out of the blue.
I don't vote anymore.
What does it matter who we vote for? No, actually, there is one difference.
It's better if the ones already in there stay in there.
They've already managed to steal enough. They're not so greedy as the new ones.
He who steals once will steal more and more.
Nobody ever has enough.
- Something urgent? - Urgent? My question precisely.
I need time to sort this out.
- Stateside, it'd be history by now. - But this is Poland.
I know. But my money's American.
I'm working on it.
I've got the best professional in the country.
But it needs to be set up properly.
This is a highly lucrative deal for Poland. And for me.
I will not be cut out of it on account of one asshole.
And measures need to be this... drastic? Can't it be sorted amicably? Normally?
Just pay someone off? Even a million wouldn't hurt you.
Not me.
He's fixated on wiping me out. He tried it once before, in Krakow, ten years ago.
I ended his career for a while. But that was then.
I don't have that power in the government anymore.
Now he's more of a politician than a policeman.
You could persuade him to see reason, surely.
I can't risk it. Any suspicion and I'm out of the deal and half a billion dollars.
Don't smoke in here.
We'll need to lay a false trail.
Best open an account in his name,
somewhere on the Caymans and deposit 20 grand. That's the bare minimum.
- What's here? - He's got a mistress.
And that mistress lives here. In a flash apartment on the top floor.
Does he park outside the building?
He drives into the underground garage. Takes the lift up.
Might be possible to hide somewhere in the garage...
Risky. He comes here with the driver.
With a driver to visit his mistress?
He wants to have a drink, right? And these drivers, they're discreet.
- The lift? - I'll show you something. Come on.
Who's she?
She's an opera singer. Performs abroad non-stop, she's rarely in Poland.
But when she is... Siemiradzki comes calling every evening.
In love?
If you saw her...
Quite a piece of tail. Got a chest on her like... fuck me!
What she sees in that turd... Sometimes he travels with her.
Milan and Zürich this year.
Brushing up on his culture, son of a bitch.
She lives there.
The two windows to the left and the one to the right.
The one on the right's the bedroom. You see it?
Yes.
Son of a bitch is a chain smoker,
but of course, she won't let him smoke in the apartment.
So he opens that small window and smokes.
One clean distance shot and we're done. An efficient getaway, leaving no trace.
Still need to find a good spot. Maybe somewhere on the roof?
You're not happy with this?
Here? Inside the hotel?
In this room would be ideal. It's rented by a company from Israel.
What company?
Orient. Film distribution.
Any investigator will think it was Mossad.
Good job.
If only the Prosecutor's Office worked like this on a daily basis!
Smells good.
Where did you learn to cook?
People who eat any old thing in any old way don't live as long
and have problems with their health.
And wine is also part of a good diet.
What's this?
Roast beef, game style. With beetroot. A classic.
Do you always indulge yourself like this?
Who else am I supposed to indulge? I'm on my own.
No family?
Never happened, somehow.
Military service?
Don't talk with your mouth full.
Just generally try to keep your behavior within the norms.
The first rule of secret service. Never stand out from the crowd.
And I do?
Let's say you're given an assignment. Planting a bomb in a restaurant.
You have lunch, leave the bomb under the table and go. Okay?
Okay. Let's say.
Then some witness gives evidence... There was this guy sitting there,
a beard, grey T-shirt and he left the bomb.
I noticed him because he was such a noisy eater,
chomping and slurping his food. Get it?
Obviously.
You're good.
The Polish army trained me.
One more session and you'll be ready.
- For what? Can I finally be told? - Let's go.
When you fired at those people in Afghanistan, how did you feel?
Why do you ask?
I'm supposed to shoot someone?
Answer the question.
How did you feel, seeing them in the scope and squeezing the trigger?
What was I supposed to feel?
I was at war.
It wasn't the first time I'd fired.
You must have felt something, though.
Excitement.
I don't know.
It's like this.
The blood's circulating...
exhaustion has vanished. Sleepiness, fear, all those unnecessary feelings.
The mind is bright and clear. I can focus on the shots.
Afterwards?
What afterwards?
When you found out you'd killed those innocent people?
It was an accident!
It wasn't my fault.
But what did you feel?
Well? Remorse?
Pangs of conscience?
Or fury at them for getting in your line of fire?
Of course I was furious!
Normally, there'd be a medal or a bonus...
Kill three Taliban?
They might even hand out a promotion.
Well, you can pick up a bonus and a promotion now, too.
What promotion?
After all, you were discharged, right? You'll be going back into the military.
You'll do a year's course at the counter-intelligence school.
Then into a special unit.
Who've I got to shoot?
Not important.
A prime pig.
Why?
Not important. It's an order, there must be a reason.
And do you know?
Perhaps he was working for foreign intelligence?
Maybe for the Russians? Maybe the mafia?
What's important is they'd rather kill him than put him in front of the court.
But I don't know any of the specifics.
I'd rather know.
You would, would you? And why? Because you'd like to know if he deserves to die!
You're going to pass sentence yourself? You want to be the judge?
Maybe you want to be God?
If you're going to kill, you need to know why.
Like war.
- You know what you're fighting for. - For peace, as always.
But the person who's been killed doesn't give a toss.
But I give a toss! I'm not a thug, I'm a soldier!
I don't give a shit anymore!
I'd rather work at a car wash.
What do you want?
I need you.
And I can do something for you in return.
I want to know why.
If you know, you'll be wondering whether it was justified or unjustified.
Don't get your conscience mixed up in it. It's your job, period!
Don't pretend you don't understand.
What do you think? That I hesitated for a second before I shot that journalist?
It was you who killed him?
But why?
Didn't he deserve it?
That son of a bitch, of course he deserved it.
So what's the problem?
Come.
But why you?
Someone had to.
I wanted to do something that'd please you.
WARSAW EAST
How did you know I felt like killing him?
But you wouldn't have done it, would you?
It's one thing to shoot someone from a distance,
it's something else to look them in the eye, hear them whimper and beg.
You're not ready for that yet.
- And did he whimper? - He whimpered.
Room 2015. On the 20th floor. Be there in ten minutes.
And try not to draw attention to yourself.
Put them on.
They'll go over this room with a microscope.
Why?
Because this is where we're shooting from.
The apartment under the terrace. Side window.
- That'll be around 300 meters. - Can we do it?
I can't see why not.
Run down the stairs. See how long it takes.
Wait for me in the car.
The lift from the mezzanine goes down to the garage.
It's a good way out for one person.
Why just for one?
It's all recorded. Why hand them the information that there were two perps?
But will they be checking?
You said the operation's being controlled.
I said that we're protected.
The police, military intelligence,
counter-intelligence, bureau of investigation.
You think they all cooperate with each other?
They create stumbling blocks for each other.
But if a prime pig like this gets taken out, all hell will break loose.
What'll happen if they catch us?
It's in nobody's interest to catch us. They'll set up some kind of false trail.
But is someone helping us?
- Not directly. - So how, then?
You speak English?
Yeah. But only a bit.
Doesn't matter. You're from Israel.
Go to reception and get a ticket for the garage.
Here's the hotel card.
- What if someone remembers me? - Don't worry, you're from Israel.
Beer, please.
Hi. You looking for me?
For you.
You had a good time, eh?
You're good.
So? One more time?
Why not?
Exactly. Why not.
What's your name, then? You never said.
I never said, 'cause you never asked.
Halina.
Ah, Halina. And I'm Stasiek.
Got a room here?
No.
You need to get one, then. I only work in the hotel.
For the whole night or by the hour?
I can't do the whole night. I have to be home.
It's 50 an hour for a room. Plus 150 for me. 200 in all.
What? One hour will do you, surely? Or would you prefer longer?
Last time we had some fun.
You know...
I'm kinda short on cash today.
Too bad.
That time was for free. But it was a one-off.
Pity, 'cause you were a nice one.
Does that lift go up to the seventh floor?
No, only to reception and the mezzanine, sir.
You need a different lift.
Do you lock the gate to the garage at night?
At eleven, sir. But you can open it with your card.
...police have apprehended two youths
responsible for the murder of a taxi driver.
A 14- and 15-year-old, who stabbed the driver to death with a knife and stole
his watch and 200 zloty, escaped from a penal facility. They were
arrested when they attempted to sell the watch to a passerby in the street...
Have you been out?
What gave you that idea?
You're sitting in your jacket.
I went for a walk.
They escaped through the third floor window two weeks ago. The police...
Little shits.
Killing for no reason.
Not that it's surprising.
Instead of teaching, the schools just spread moral decay.
Now they want to send six-year-old kids. Where to?
The schools we have now?
School's shit.
Those little shits don't learn a thing.
There are no authority figures. No role models.
Their highest ideal is to make a stack of money.
That's life. It's not going to change.
There's no school can help with that.
Evolution's retracing its steps.
The tide of human development reached its apogee.
Now we're retreating all the way back to the apes.
Not far to go now.
Well, what?
Business talks are starting. It won't be long before my name comes up.
You've got very little time.
I know we've got very little time.
What are you looking at?
I'm seeing what's on at the National Opera House.
What opera?
Go back.
Don't come home as long as that car's there.
Why?
Do as I say.
And stop asking questions. They teach you that in the army?
I won't be sorry to leave here.
I can imagine.
To what do I owe this honor?
She's coming back.
When? Don't smoke in here.
She's performing this bitch of Lammermoor next week.
She should arrive any day now, tomorrow, the day after, for rehearsals.
So I'll go there the day after tomorrow.
Go tomorrow.
You might just strike it lucky. Like on a hunt.
I feel sorry for her.
The passport? The money?
The passport's ready. Not a forgery. The real thing.
And the money?
- As soon as the job's done. - I'd rather it was here and now.
Since when has it been customary to pay up front?
There are two exceptions. Whores and paid killers.
I don't have it here.
- What was that all about? - Liaison officer.
He doesn't need to see you.
- What's that? Empty? - Plenty of unknown fingerprints.
The police'll have something to keep them occupied.
Gauguin sent all his finished paintings to his marchand in Paris.
The marchand paid him a monthly salary of 3000 francs.
In those days, that provided a good life,
namely on the French Polynesian island of Hiva Ora, in the Marquesas archipelago.
It was here he created his greatest works, famed for intense colors and clear light.
After Gauguin's death, the bishop of Hiva Ora ordered the island's inhabitants
to bring him every painting that remained on the island,
the paintings he'd given to his friends,
his 13-year-old mistresses and their families.
Around 40 works were assembled in front of the church, and there,
the bishop set them on fire
as “the work of the Devil”.
Nothing happening.
Let's head out.
I'm not happy about any of this.
I'd rather pull out.
What does that mean, you're not happy about it?
I've got good instincts. When we went into action in Afghanistan, I felt the same.
Like there's insects running around in my stomach.
You think you can just pull out of a job which constitutes a military secret?
I was sworn in. I do know what secret means.
And we're supposed to believe that you're capable of keeping a secret?
We're supposed to take that kind of a risk, right?
There's no risk. Secret is secret.
You can wind up in the slammer if you break the oath.
This is still a savage country. The methods employed are a bit different.
I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out that you've had a car accident,
or hung yourself somewhere in the forest in order to keep this secret.
And the insects in the belly are normal. Everyone gets them.
On open terrain, lions tend to hunt mostly by night,
but in the high grasses of the savannah,
they might also hunt during the day.
Hunting is predominantly the role of the males.
The females rarely participate.
Sit down and eat.
Lions use a variety of hunting tactics,
depending on the lay of the land.
I'm not hungry at all.
They kill by bringing their prey to the ground and asphyxiating it,
either by clamping their jaws over its muzzle
or by sinking their teeth into its windpipe.
When a male is hunting alone,
it closes in on its prey to a distance of around 30 meters
and then attacks.
Because most hoofed mammals
can move faster than lions,
the element of surprise is vital.
The dead prey feeds the entire pride,
which often leads to clashes among individuals.
There she is.
That's a good sign. She's waiting for someone.
It's him.
I'm ready.
Give him some time.
Now.
Shoot.
Kill her, before she starts making noise!
Idiot! Let's get out of here.
- The garage card didn't work. - Didn't work?
To go out you have to drive in first. That's how it works.
It's done.
The chief of the Central Bureau of Investigation,
General Siemiradzki, was murdered last night.
Police have launched a full investigation. He was visiting a friend's apartment and
the assassin shot him to the head as he smoked a cigarette out of a window.
Turns out it's true, what they put on cigarette packets. Smoking kills.
Don't turn cynical. It's a big handicap in this line of work.
General Siemiradzki was an outstanding police officer. Throughout his career...
Now what? Boss?
I'm not your boss anymore.
This evening, I'll receive the money and further orders.
- Evacuation in all likelihood. - Where to?
Somewhere warm. For a while.
I've done that.
I'd rather be posted somewhere else.
And you?
After this kind of action, they always order you to lie low.
Not to stand out.
I doubt we'll be assigned to the next job together.
That's not done in practice.
I have to hand in the weapon now. And you...
They'll order you to go back home and wait.
Wait? For long?
According to new unofficial reports, the death of General Siemiradzki may be
the result of mafia scores being settled.
They say there's evidence of the general's ties...
They don't know a thing.
...with an international gang of arms smugglers. The general
held an unofficial bank account in a known tax haven: the Cayman Islands.
What bollocks!
Any sensation would do!
I must deny any speculation about General Siemiradzki's ties with the underworld.
There's no evidence of that.
If that was true, if they really had some kind of documentation,
they'd never have ordered him to be eliminated.
That's always the last resort.
Better to buy people off.
Or persuade them to see reason.
- You mean blackmail? - For example.
And this? Typical smoke screen.
Most probably for our security.
...General's private life is irrelevant to this investigation.
He leaves a wife and two kids.
Or is it the other way round?
- What? - Nothing.
No one can be trusted.
Even in a business like ours, where trust should really be fundamental.
Nowadays your own brother would turn you in to the Tax Office.
Complete barbarity.
I don't even regret the fact that I'm old now.
It's you I feel sorry for, the young ones. Because it's not going to get any better.
This is how it'll stay.
Or it'll get even worse.
You'll stay here when they come.
Hide in the bedroom.
Anything could happen.
In theory.
You know how it is, right?
Maybe they won't have work for us anymore?
You are simply the best, Lulek. No doubt about it.
I was.
Give me the rifle. It needs to be destroyed.
The money. The passport.
Money.
This much.
How much is in here?
Twenty-thousand dollars. Count it.
- And the rest? - In your account.
The money has to come from outside the country.
What account? I've got no account.
So open one. Where are you heading? Marbella?
Go to a bank, open an account, send me the number
and we'll send you the rest of the money.
- You won't starve to death in a few days. - Cash.
There's no cash. The sponsor's abroad. I don't have that kind of money myself.
Mr. Prosecutor.
I said to you at one stage, this kind of job gets paid up front.
Now you know why.
To avoid complications.
Have you gone mad?
What are you thinking? That you're dealing with your gangster friends?
Did you receive an advance? Did you receive the passport?
So you'll get the money.
You're not leaving here until I get the money.
I don't have it. I physically don't have it. Don't you understand?
Send the driver. Call him.
Kozlowski! Come here. Don't you aim at me!
Lulek here needs 80,000 dollars. Do you happen to have such a sum on you?
No! Lulek! Fuck!
That's our money gone to hell.
You've been hit.
Never mind, he'd more than likely never have paid us anyway.
We're going to the hospital.
Might as well just go straight to jail. Get some towels from the bathroom.
You need a doctor.
I have my own doctor in Pabianice. Let's get out of here.
- How are you doing? - Just watch out for potholes.
They don't even know how to build a fucking motorway properly.
I meant to get the suspension fixed. We always put things off till later.
Whereabouts in Pabianice?
I'll tell you when we get there.
This morning, a student at Sanders College in Tucson, Arizona,
opened fire with an assault rifle in the schoolyard,
killing twelve students and two teachers
before barricading himself in the school building.
Two teachers killed, several wounded.
Police surrounded the building and a one-hour siege
concluded when a police sniper shot...
Leave it. It's actually interesting.
That interests you?
I'm going away.
I'd rather think that I'm leaving shit behind me.
Where to?
Spain.
I've got few retired friends out there.
You want to travel in that condition?
The doctor will patch me up and hide me for a while.
And me?
Go back home.
No one knows a thing about you.
And what's Spain got to offer you?
Warmth.
Sunshine.
Blue sky...
green grass, golden sands.
The girls are mainly brunettes.
Can you speak Spanish?
I'll learn. If even Kêdzior could learn it,
then so can I.
Maybe I should come as well?
Even just to take you. You shouldn't drive.
There should be a bridge nearby. Stop and throw the rifle into the river.
Done.
Well? What...?
Once again I have seen the infantile Mr. Ziobro
and once again I remembered the words of his coworker.
Good morning. Your breakfast.
This man embarrassed himself utterly, not for the first time.
It's either memory loss or extreme cynicism.
In my opinion Kaczyński should visit a psychiatrist.
The things he is saying are cruel.
Verbal attacks on the president, frustration caused by the loss.
Andrzej Matula. Investigative journalist with The Szczecin Courier.
Yes?
Were you aware General Siemiradzki came from Szczecin?
I don't know.
Our readers are very interested in the murder of the general.
Very likely. Everyone's interested. Every TV station's been here.
- I'd like to go up. See for myself. - Nothing to see. The apartment's sealed.
And the opera singer?
I know her.
I even saved her once from a... rather unpleasant situation.
She left.
What do you expect? After something like that?
They shot him from the hotel? From the roof or from a room?
They won't let you in there, either.
That's tough.
What am I going to write?
You'll just have to fabricate something. Like you normally do, right?
- How long for? - I'm staying at the hotel.
Ten zloty a day.
You're driving Mr Lulek's car?
Yes.
You know him?
The car was parked here when Lulek was in prison.
So where's Mr. Lulek?
He's gone away. Abroad.
You're consistent in your feelings.
Police pulled the body of man with a gunshot wound out of the Poltawa River.
The man has been identified as 64-year-old gangster Karol Z., pseudonym "Lulek",
who was sentenced to 15 years in prison and was currently on parole.
A search of Karol Z.'s apartment led to a macabre discovery
when police found the bodies of Prosecutor Z.N. and his driver there.
Both men had died from gunshot wounds.
Police are not ruling out a possible connection between their murders
and the recent assassination of
Central Bureau of Investigation commander General Siemiradzki.
An intensive investigation is under way.
Unofficial sources have revealed that Prosecutor N. was leading
the Karol Z. case and may have been hot on the assassin's trail.
What's wrong?
- Was he a relative of yours? - What?
No. Of course not.
Listen...
Let's go away. What do you think?
Where to?
Everywhere's the same. I went to Krakow last year.
To get a dog.
No...
Somewhere further away. To a warm country.
Spain, for instance.
Spain?
I've never been abroad.
You need a passport.
Not for Spain, you don't.
So what's interesting there? Bullfights? I think I'd freak out.
It's gorgeous there.
Sunshine, golden sands, green grass, blue sky...
I've got friends there. Wait. I'll show you.
There was this guy. He took me to the seaside.
For three days. Had some business there.
And?
He paid me 2000.
Don't worry, I've got money.
Wait here.
What's up?
Lulek.
- He went abroad, I think you said? - What was I supposed to say?