Bus 174 (2002) - full transcript

IN JUNE 12, 2000,
THE POLICE SURROUNDED A MAN

WHO TRIED TO ROB A BUS.

HE TOOK 11 HOSTAGES, AND BOPE
(SPECIAL FORCES) WAS CALLED.

THE INCIDENT BECAME KNOWN
AS THE CASE OF BUS 174.

My name is Luciana.

It's been 19 years that I live in
the streets. Ever since I was 5.

The reason why I'm in the streets?
Battering.

By my stepfathers...

and my mother.

Before we came to the streets,
we had a comfortable life.

But Dad was an alcoholic.



So Mom would get severely beaten
whenever he drank.

Then she ran away from home
and came to the streets.

Hey, may I brag a little?
About my happiness?

My happiness...

I don't think there's any chance
I might ever be happy again.

I no longer have anybody.
I have no mother, no father...

I have nothing at all,
only my children.

There's no way I can be
happy anymore.

The ground is cold...

with no comfort.

There's a place, you see?
To sleep under the porch.

Rich boy up there...

lays down in bed, while we're
here below, lying on the floor.

In the morning, when we rise,
at times there's no breakfast...



so we go to the bakery's door,
to ask for breakfast.

Other times, we even steal,
because there's nothing to eat.

When we grow up,
we're already revolted.

Mancha was a child when
he came to the streets.

So he never had the time
to find love, from anybody.

You get that? The only thing
he learned in the streets...

was how to survive, man.

That's what we all learned:
to survive.

On our own.
Because when we're street kids...

if we just sit here and
don't go after things...

nobody will show up there
wanting to give us food...

or to help us. No!
We have to go after things.

I heard the news on the radio...

of the administrative car I was in...

that BOPE had been deployed
in a hostage situation...

at Jardim Botanico.

I called the unit's commander
right away...

and placed me at their disposal,
to get to the scene first...

in order to evaluate
in what conditions...

things were at that point.
He gave me a go...

FORMER BOPE OFFICIAL
so I left the Rio-Niteroi bridge...

and headed to the Jardim Botanico.

I was the first to arrive
at the scene.

TV started showing images
filmed...

by traffic cameras. The image
was of a bus surrounded...

at the Jardim Botanico Street,
and it seemed that a young man...

a robber, was keeping
all passengers hostage.

REPORTER - "O GLOBO" NEWSPAPER
Immediately, the news crew sent...

almost all of its team
to the spot.

"BUS 174"

When I arrived there, I introduced
myself to the unit's commander...

Colonel Soares, who transferred the
command of that operation to me...

since I was qualified to deal...

with hostage takers.
I tried, at that point...

to gather as much information
as I could...

in order to brief the troop
that would arrive.

Following procedures...

I started trying to establish
contact with him.

In order to know his motives...

to know how far...
to know who we were dealing with.

I gave him a name, I told him,
"Your name will be Sergio.

Is that OK, Sergio?" He answered,
"Fine, then. My name's Sergio.

You may call me Sergio."

Until then, I didn't know,
nobody knew he was called Sandro.

THE HIJACKER

When Sandro was six,
his mother was murdered.

Her throat was cut in front of him.
Inside their shack...

in the Rato Molhado slum.

VOLUNTARY SOCIAL WORKER
The boy watched that. Did he have
a father? No, he had no father.

Grandpa, Grandma, well,
these things don't exist, see?

Nobody knows who they are,
or who they aren't.

So the boy was alone.

He had no one to take care
of him, he had nothing.

So he hit the streets.
He went to the Méier district...

and he stayed there,
where he met other street kids.

So a group was formed in the Méier,
"Let's go to Copacabana.

There's money in Copacabana.
That's where the food is."

In the South Zone they starve
less than in the suburbs.

In the suburbs,
things are harder to get.

We want tourists, people who have
change money to spare, and so on.

So that's how he started.

He left a family drama...

and entered a gang of street kids.

When I met Sandro,
he was this big.

It was in the streets of Copacabana.
Just like that.

We were all sleeping.

And when I came to
Copacabana's streets...

I was this big.

"Hey, Sandro,
where did you come from?"

FORMER STREET KID
"Oh, I came from home."

"Hey, mate, wouldn't you have
some place for me to sleep?

I'm feeling cold,
and I'm very hungry."

Everyone who comes to the streets,
starts innocently.

Not knowing how to steal.
Many don't smoke pot...

don't sniff glue.
Then what happens?

They go to a restaurant, to ask for
food, and they hear, "Hey, man!

You can't come here often.
You have to go after your own food."

So they're starving,
and they see you getting money.

"Come with me, man!
Let's grab our money!

Come on, let's steal!"
And that's how it goes.

Their heads turn fast. For many
who come here, that's their story.

The so-called "street kids"...

are boys who have severed
all family bonds...

with anybody they ever knew
from any family they ever had.

From any home, any community.

They've severed it.
They've forgotten their past.

They have no past.
So their present, their lives...

are that street, that corner,
that group of friends.

The felon, when he realized
that police had arrived...

he didn't try to escape.

He went back to the where
he was, taking hostages.

That's an interrupted robbery.

There are philosophical
debates over this.

CAPTAIN DISCHARGED FROM BOPE
There are police officers
who believe that...

HAS A MASTER'S IN SOCIOLOGY
to allow the felon's escape
in that moment...

is better for public security.

It would avoid hostage situations.

Today in Rio de Janeiro,
a candidate to the Military Police...

is someone who couldn't be
inserted in the work market.

A person who was unemployed
for more than a year and a half...

is a person who had
no other choice in life...

but to become a police officer.
It's a job.

Poorly armed, poorly trained,
with no self-esteem, you know?

A police officer who doesn't really
know what he's being trained to do.

He believes his main mission
is to arrest criminals...

to kill criminals.

The difference between a BOPE
officer and a regular policeman...

is precisely the former's vocation.
He receives...

intense training...

about the rescue of hostages...

combat inside slums...

and negotiation of conflicts.

He is an elite police officer
psychologically...

and physically selected
to serve in that unit.

My assessment was that
it would be an incident...

BOPE OFFICIAL
that would end with
the hijacker's surrender...

FORBIDDEN TO SPEAK
BY THE CORPS
just like all the others.

After all, the safety conditions
of the hijacker...

were minimal.
He was inside a bus...

surrounded by windows on all sides,
being watched by every corner.

And he had no chance
to get out alive...

nor to have his demands
be accepted.

Plus, BOPE had never
lost a hostage. Ever.

Arriving near the upland area,
in Paulo de Frontin Street...

GLOBO TV CAMERAMAN
the traffic was really bad,
when there appeared...

a BOPE convoy with sirens on.

So we followed it closely
with our reporters' car...

It was a lucky shot for us.
We managed to arrive...

very quickly to the scene.

Things escalated...

so he knew that there were...

many people against him, you know?

Everyone around the bus...

was worried about us, you know?

About the hostages.
Not about him.

So he was alone against
everyone else, right?

HOSTAGES

That was right at the start...

when he took the
first or second hostage...

BUSINESS ADMINISTRATION
STUDENT
and I heard him say,
"Oh, I have four bullets.

One for you, the other for you,
the other for you...

and the last one's for me."

I was still ducking,
and he didn't know I was...

in there yet. So I made
many phone calls in hiding...

to my home,
to my boyfriend...

and to my job.
It's a little surreal...

but I thought it would be
over soon, you know?

SOCIAL COMMUNICATION STUDENT
I was like, "Look, tell so-and-so...

that I'm going to be late."
See?

"Tell her not to worry,
because I'm in a robbery."

But I still hadn't realized
it was a hijacking.

That I was a hostage
inside a bus.

To me, it was just an incident.

They caught an armed person,
and that person wants to get away...

he just wants to leave.
I didn't figure that he meant to...

keep us inside the bus
until he got what he wanted.

I didn't think of it that way.

Then he grabbed my jacket,
to hide his face.

EXECUTIVE SECRETARY
And he started picking
everything inside my purse.

He'd grab a towel and
wrap it around himself...

putting it on his face.

But then he stopped,
and took me to driver's seat.

He sat on it, and made me sit on his
lap. He wanted me to drive the bus.

He wanted to leave the place
by bus.

And he'd terrify me,
"Tell them I want this and that.

Or else I'll kill you.

If you don't persuade them,
I'll kill you."

And he said that
he wanted no cameras...

no cameramen.
He'd shout at the police:

"Take that guy out of here!"
There was a photographer...

right in front of the bus.

There was the concern
to solve the situation.

"O GLOBO" NEWSPAPER
PHOTOGRAPHER
To get Sandro out of there,
to kill Sandro...

and to put an end to all that.

That did happen.
But there was no securing the area.

There were very few police
officers controlling the distances.

There was nothing to prevent...

our access to the scene.

The whole time, there were
people from the press...

trying to get closer and closer...

to get better info, better images...

that kind of thing.

People were there
very near the bus.

If he were more violent...

he'd have killed
not only the hostages.

Bullets would fly
towards everyone there.

He'd kill a lot of people.
Like in American movies.

So he went, "Aren't you telling that
guy to scram? I'll shoot him, then.

Tell him to get out of there!"

My life was at stake there...

and the lives of all those people
who were there by my side.

If he had fired another shot
towards the front of the bus...

the bullet would have
come our way.

THE COMMANDER ARRIVES

Col. Penteado had been informed...

that there was a felon
armed with a revolver...

its hammer was cocked...

his finger was itching
on the trigger...

and he had already fired a shot.
So at that moment there...

he assumed command
of the operation.

So, the cordon that hadn't
been well done at first...

was improved.
We took our stand...

in front of Sandro,
to the right of the bus.

Police officers were placed
in Lage Park.

So there was actually a siege
around the perimeter.

Right?
The situation was under control.

As a commander,
he took steps for it to happen:

control of the situation.

He was out of control.

He talked a lot about
killing everybody.

He told the story
of his family being dead...

everybody dead,
so he had nothing to lose.

He was very scary
with those stories.

He sang devilish songs...

that left me very nervous
and worried.

So, these attitudes
led me to believe...

that he was very high on drugs.

So all I could feel was
a lot of fear.

I was frightened.

I wasn't analyzing him
psychologically.

That wasn't my intention.

I didn't stop to think
that his behavior...

could be psychotic,
or schizophrenic...

or that of a drug addict.
I didn't consider that...

right away. I didn't.
Honestly, I really didn't.

If he had really been
a street kid...

and if the police knew this
during negotiation...

this was a very important fact
for the negotiator to know.

His personality,
as a street kid...

would not have
developed well...

so that would increase
Sandro's unpredictability.

This Sandro is an example
of the invisible kids...

who emerge, from time to time,
and take over the scene...

SOCIOLOGIST, FORMER SECRETARY
confronting us with all the violence.

OF SECURITY OF THE STATE
OF RIO DE JANEIRO
It's a desperate scream,
an impotent scream.

Our incapacity to deal
with our dramas...

with social exclusion, racism...

with all those stigmas,
all those problems.

We get used to coexisting,
with all tranquility...

with "Sandros", with tragedies
and their offspring...

and with the extension
of these catastrophes.

This has turned into
part of our routine.

The great battle of these kids
is against invisibility.

We're no one, nothing,
when people don't look at us...

don't acknowledge our worth,
don't value our existence...

don't tell us that we have
some quality...

don't return us our own image
anointed by any light...

any life, any recognizance.

These kids are starving...

of social existence.

Starving of recognition.

A black, poor boy,
any boy...

in the big cities of Brazil,
he wanders the streets invisibly.

There are two ways
to produce invisibility:

either this kid is invisible
because we don't see him...

we neglect his presence,
we scorn him...

or because we cast on him
a stigma...

a caricature, a prejudice.

We only see what
we ourselves have projected...

the caricature that our prejudices
have projected.

They see us as criminals,
but there are no criminals here.

We strive for survival, man.

No one wants to destroy
anyone else.

We don't want to be stealing,
so one of these days...

we'll be shot and die.
We want to survive.

Now, we're always being scorned.
What we ask for...

is that society sees us differently.

Because if they see us
with the images...

that they cast on us...

then we're going nowhere.
If they open a door, one day...

to give us an opportunity,
we'll be someone.

They take the merchandise
that I sell, banana jam...

they take it and kick it...

"You're a felon! A felon!"

So I have to get out in the streets
and make a fuss, to say that...

that I'm a peddler. I have my
merchandise there as proof...

that I'm not a felon.
It proves that I'm a peddler.

But I'm telling what
they really do to me.

Because it's true.

No one gives us a chance,
they just stay there...

closing doors in our faces.

That's how things are right now.
If society remains like this...

the tendency is that
things only get worse.

Actually, he didn't show...

that he had a purpose.
Which led us to believe...

that he was a common crook.

He simply had been interrupted
during a robbery.

That's all. And he had
nothing to ask for.

He had no requests, like,
"I want an helicopter."

To a certain extent, that was good.

We were dealing with someone
who had no aims.

Obviously, I had an aim.

And I'd show him all the time...

and others also showed him,
that he should deliver the hostages.

That's all.

ARCHITECTURE STUDENT
He said, "Hey! And you, over there?"
I had my backpack and purse.

"You're a student, aren't you?"
I answered, "Yes, I am."

"Get out, then.
You must be late."

And he said, "Go, open the door,
and then close it behind you."

So I said, "Fine".

From the moment
he freed a hostage...

that strengthened me.
From then on, I started to...

try and employ
the technical measures...

to dissuade him from the intent
of taking those people hostage.

Then he let me go and...

that's when he took Janaina
and made her...

empty the purses.
Me and her.

He had his hand inside one of the
purses and he picked the lipstick.

He gave me the lipstick himself,
and he told me...

"Come here, little girl, use it
to write in front of the bus."

I don't know what got into me,
because I answered...

"Oh, I'll write it so everyone
can see it out there."

I don't know where did I get such
presence of mind, something told me:

"Write backwards."
Because when play, we write...

backwards, but with a gun against
your head, it's not that simple.

His level of violence
is directly linked...

to the presence of cameras.

Yes, he was concerned there
with showing himself...

and playing his part.

HE'LL KILL ALL
AT 6 P.M.

I had the feeling that...

the world would be watching.

It would be broadcast.

I think that TV made him...

feel powerful.
Inasmuch as he knew...

that he was being filmed,
and he wanted to be filmed.

He played.
He played very well.

But he knew what was going
to happen if he was caught.

So that was also his way
of protecting himself.

The media is something that
gives confidence to the hijacker.

Of course. It's his assurance
of not being executed, killed.

The extension of that situation
would also serve as...

a space for him to mean
something to someone...

as a space for him to show
that he had power...

to show that he existed.

That was something
as fundamental...

as solving the situation
and getting out alive.

So, in that sense,
the TV cameras...

mattered to him.

Right there, Sandro
awakened to us all...

in all living rooms.
He imposed his visibility.

He was the character
of another narrative.

He somehow redefined
the social report...

that would always give him
the inferior position.

Suddenly, it was turned
into a narrative...

where he was
the main character.

I wanted to understand
why he was there.

What was his goal in that.

This boy, with this weapon,
is able to produce...

in us or in anyone else,
a certain feeling.

The feeling of fear.

A negative feeling,
but still a feeling.

Through which
he recovers visibility...

he conquests his presence again,
he reaffirms his social existence...

and his human existence.
There's a process there...

of self-constitution,
an aesthetics of self-invention...

that occurs by means of
violence, with the gun...

in a perverse way.
A kind of Faustian pact.

By which the boy exchanges
his future, his life, his soul...

so to speak,
for that ephemeral moment...

of fleeting glory. The small glory
of being recognized...

of meaning something, of being able
to value his self-esteem.

This is the crucial moment...

the matrix of everything
that's at stake.

If we don't understand
the depth, the complexity...

of this moment, we won't
know how to act.

HE'S INSANE

HE'S INSANE, HE'LL KILL ME

Listen up, gang!

Just like you're evil...

I'm not fooling around, see?

I don't care about
these cops, brother.

I'll be blunt.
Things are going to get ugly.

You may look at my face
and mark my face.

This is a real crime.
And it's serious, all right.

I'll blow her head off at six,
if you don't do what I want.

I'll have them respect me.

Get down. Down.

Call my bluff, then. You may film
and show it in all Brazil.

I'm going to shoot and kill.

Well, call my bluff, then.
The first to die will be this one.

You got it, man?
Got it?

This is no action movie.

This is for real, brother.

It's the real thing.
Got to impose ourselves, you know?

Haven't you shot to kill?

Haven't you killed the little
brothers at Candelaria? I was there.

Wasn't I?

At Candelaria,
what happened was...

there were groups of street kids...

who slept in Candelaria's
square park...

below the porch there,
right in front of the church...

and Sandro was one of the boys
who were part of that group.

To me, his name has
always been Sandro.

"Mancha" was his nickname...

because he had a spot
on his body.

From here...

SOCIAL WORKER,
FORMER STREET KID
to the end there, was where kids
arranged their chipboard beds...

AND SANDRO'S FRIEND
and their bedspreads,
and left everything arranged...

their beds ready.

Here in the middle was where
we'd stay in a circle...

of friends here,
we'd all sit down...

and tell stories to each other.

We'd go to Bob's and buy
their combos...

with french fries,
soft drinks, sundae...

Then we'd take it under there,
it was a lot of fun.

We'd place all the food
on the ground...

on top of a chipboard,
and we'd open the packages...

and the drinks, then everybody
got something to eat...

One wanted the fries,
the other wanted a hamburger...

We'd always leave
the ice cream to the end...

Then finally each one
got a spoon of ice cream...

and we'd make quite a mess
eating there. When we were full...

we'd throw food at each other.

It was really cool.
We felt like family kids.

Sandro, as I remember him,
used to get sad...

and climb the newsstand there.

He'd stay on top of it,
and we'd ask him...

"Are you thinking?" He used to say
that he was pondering.

So we'd provoke him,
"Are you pondering over...

who you're going to rob tomorrow?
How many are you robbing tomorrow?

We used to aggravate him like that.
The bed ended here.

Many didn't like to sleep here...

so they'd sleep somewhere else,
less in view.

For fear of some coward
passing by at night...

and throwing stones. In those days,
there was a trend of killing...

with floor tiles. Those tiles there,
near the traffic light.

So they'd wait for us to sleep
and they'd come late night...

and drop a tile on our heads,
and our brains would splatter.

Happy birthday to you

From old friends and new

JULY 22, 1993
May good luck go with you

And happiness too

IT'S THE BIRTHDAY OF
ONE OF THE STREET EDUCATORS

WHO CATERED FOR
CANDELARIA'S CHILDREN

The Candelaria group,
it started small...

and suddenly it was filled
with kids from the same area...

the Rato Molhado slum,
over there.

And he'd still remain
like he always was...

introverted, with the same
learning disability...

He'd always tell his
mother's story, you know?

That his mother had been
murdered in front of him...

something he could never forget,
his unknown father.

He never knew his father,
he didn't know who his father was.

So, why did you...

What do you think about our life?

Maybe it's better in the streets
than at home with my family.

Where did you live?
How was it that you left your home?

I lived in Vigario Geral. I left
because of a fight with my Dad.

Mancha was cool.
Just like...

FORMER STREET KID
I told you how
I ended up in the streets...

SANDRO'S FRIEND
it seems that he went
through the same thing.

Or maybe he didn't
even have a family.

Because he never told us
whether he had a mother.

He'd tell us that
he had no family...

that he had nothing.
So his only means of survival...

was living like that.

I'm 17, I've been in the streets
ever since I was 8.

Eight years old.
That's where we stay here.

I used to stay more
in the square over there...

but lately I've relocated
to here.

When we met,
I think I was 16...

and he was 13.

That's how we met,
living at the same place...

sleeping in the same environment.
So we became friends.

We'd sniff glue together.
Things like that.

Mancha, he...

he used to steal a lot in
the traffic lights, you know?

He'd steal from
the cars that stopped...

and it was always
to buy cocaine.

He survived.
He bought his glue, his food...

his clothes, you know?

- And to be happy?
- A home.

A home.
A place to live.

With food, everything.
With a roof.

Talk about your life here.

Here is...

I sleep under there,
I shower there...

I sniff glue here in this track.

I wander about, I see everything
that happens around here...

I see the police beat us up.

- I see it all.
- You don't even need to...

say that you can see it,
because you feel it.

What was that about the police?
How was that again?

They assault us, they beat us up
and tell us to move away.

- You mean police in uniform?
- Yes.

Our friend Neilton...

was arrested and took
quite a beating from the cops.

THE NEXT DAY
We didn't like that, and we were many.

So we went and,
there was a sort of rebellion...

A demonstration.
We fought the policemen.

After that, some cops
threatened us.

They said they'd come back
late night and show us.

We didn't think it was true.
We couldn't believe...

there would be a massacre
downtown...

and a lot of children would
be killed. So we stayed.

Then, around 11 p.m.,
almost midnight...

two cars stopped by.
Since it was a weekend...

we thought they'd give us soup.

There was a lady who used to stop
there, to give us canned soup.

We figured it was her.
So everybody came quick...

to get some soup.

We were up on our feet, when a guy
came from behind the newsstand...

shooting. And all the others
got down from their cars...

shooting us.

So, all I could see was...

my friends all lying there,
bleeding, dying.

Hey, partner, you may film me.
Brazil, check this out:

I was at Candelaria,
the shit is serious...

They killed the little brothers
there. So...

I have nothing else to lose...

I'll shoot to kill.
Call my bluff.

I want it to be recorded
just like you're doing there.

In Candelaria there were
seven victims...

and 62 kids left.
I've just made a research...

on the fate of these kids:
39 have been murdered...

part of them are missing,
and the other part survives...

in precarious conditions.

I remember that some radio station
had a poll back then...

and most people thought that
it served them right.

That this is how things are,
and they really should be killed...

all that crowd,
to clean up the city.

After that, he stayed in
different places in the streets.

They spread around
the whole city.

DECEMBER 1993
Many went to work for drug traffic...

many were murdered
because of this, too.

And I didn't see him
for a while.

Me, Mancha and the guys,
we'd sleep...

under a bridge, when it was cold...

near a theater by Ana Maria Clara St.,
where there was a play...

called "A Bruxinha Que Era Boa"
.

FORMER STREET KID

It was a groups of boys who
slept in the Jardim Botanico park.

I'd pass by, and they
were all laying down.

So one day I invited them to
come to PUC, the University...

to train the Capoeira. So they
started to come often to PUC...

And they stayed almost two years
with me there.

In my surroundings,
they never stole anything.

CAPOEIRA TEACHER
And there was a lot of money
running around there, see?

They were always
inside my lab...

and they never took anything.

DECEMBER 1993

The thing that ruined Mancha
the most was glue.

I've always told him,
"Shit, old buddy!

Quit that thing!"
and he answered:

"Oh, no big deal,
that's the only thing I do.

So, like, I want to be
strong like you are.

I want to be fit,
and I also play the Capoeira...

so I'm going to be fit like you."
And I was like, "Let's go, then."

So we started to exercise.

CHRISTENED "ALEX MANCHA"

In the group,
he was the most quiet one.

And he was the first to
just vanish, you get it?

It's the glue's fault, man.

Just like it damaged him...

it still harms many kids...

who are in the streets today.

Sandro was habitually
high on coke.

He liked it.
He'd steal only to sniff it.

Sandro, he didn't care about
wearing fancy clothes.

His thing was coke.
Only coke.

There were times when he spent
two whole days sniffing it.

In order to do what he did,
he had to be really stoned.

Really stoned.
He must have been very high.

He must have been without sleep
for three nights or something.

And he was scared, too.

He was scared then. That's what
happened to him inside that bus.

He was emboldened...

because he was under
the influence of coke...

but at the same time,
he was scared.

We had been through the tragedy
of the Candelaria...

and already we were
living another tragedy...

that was, in a way,
an extension of the first one.

Sandro, who was a victim
of the Candelaria massacre...

now had turned into the
villain of the new drama.

As if it was meant to
waken us to the fact...

that we need to solve
the larger issue.

Larger than the Candelaria,
larger than the 174...

than Vigario Geral, and
all of our daily tragedies.

It's almost 6 p.m.!
So you want to call my bluff?

I'll blow her head off!

I'll blow her head off!

If we add to that
the invisibility...

the natural drama of adolescence,
we'll understand...

how difficult was
the boy's course in life.

Just another Sandro around town.

This invisible being. Our society
defines these human beings...

not as human beings,
but as the garbage of society.

So they're sent to hellholes,
and we wash our hands...

with regard to them.

PADRE SEVERINO INSTITUTE
JOÃO LUÍS ALVES SCHOOL

RECLUSION CENTER FOR
UNDERAGED LAWBREAKERS

"A female citizen was
driving her car...

when she halted at the red light,
and was surrounded...

by a group of adolescents...

who demanded all her money.

Using pen-knives,
they threatened to cut her.

The felons took her watch
and a certain amount of money.

The soldier managed to
arrest one of the teenagers...

called Sandro Rosa do Nascimento,
16 years old.

Nothing was recovered
in the adolescent's hands."

"Sentence: In view of the
adolescent's confession...

I judge fit to apply on
Sandro do Nascimento...

the social and educational measure
of internship...

as a way to offer the young adult
more protection...

guidance to a profession...

identification and reinsertion
in the family environment."

"State Bureau of Justice
and Home Affairs.

Social Services/Psychology.

Sandro Rosa do Nascimento,
aged 16...

shows bodily injuries,
doesn't live with family.

The young adult is in the streets,
has stayed in the South Zone...

can't remember for how long.
Mother deceased for years.

Used to live with his maternal
aunt, Ju. Didn't know his father.

Note: The teenager is very
unwilling to give information...

about his social conditions.
Says he can't remember things...

because he has too many
problems in his head.

Doesn't want to speak
about such problems.

Chemical dependency ignored.
Has used cocaine for two days."

"Informative Synthesis.
Teenager in his fourth entry here.

Hasn't fulfilled previous measures.

Lives in the streets with mates
ever since his mother died...

approximately four years ago.

The responsible person
has been noticed by telegram...

in January 12, 1996.
It's his aunt Julieta...

though the teenager is not sure
about her house's number.

After a month's internship,
Sandro started...

being visited by Mrs. Julieta,
who is his maternal aunt...

and by his 14 year-old sister, who
lives with his aunt and two cousins.

This rapprochement with the family
nucleus has been very positive...

for the young adult,
who has displayed changes...

in his life expectations.
Based on Sandro's reports...

one verifies that the loss
of family structure...

with his mother's murder,
witnessed by him...

was very traumatic. It made him
abandon living together...

with his maternal aunt and get
involved with street groups...

where he started to live and
to commit anti-social acts."

"Psychological Judgment.
Sandro has shown...

fully adequate behavior
in his situation as intern...

following rules, with cooperative
and solicitous attitudes.

I was devastated.
When I arrived there, I cried...

and everyone laughed
at my face.

SANDRO'S MATERNAL AUNT
The reason I cried wasn't even...

Well, I worried about the
other kids in there...

what they went through, getting
beaten in the hand by their batons.

I told them, "People,
when these kids are freed...

they'll be even worse."
With no support, no love...

no affection. I think that...

the violence, you know?

The world is violent, already.
Then you put...

children in that institution, and
mistreat them. They'll get worse.

The Padre Severino reformatory,
I think it's a deposit...

of young human beings,
you know?

I was his aunt,
and I couldn't...

bring him here, because
he was under state custody.

I was locked in Padre Severino
twenty times or more.

What I learned inside there...

was nothing. Nothing.

I only learned to become
more and more revolted...

because inside there,
government officials...

beat us up. You get that?
They didn't teach us anything...

but wanted to beat us with chains.
And they chained us there.

I was interned at Padre Severino
when I was thirteen.

That was 1994. I was caught
during robbery here in Humaita.

I was a street kid,
I smoked pot...

I sniffed glue,
I did all those things.

Mancha and I were in custody...

PROFESSIONAL MUGGER
in the Joao Luis Alves School...

at the Padre Severino Institute.

Several other kids who grew
up with him were there.

He seemed like a regular kid.

Just like the rest of the kids
that lived there.

Sometimes we were in custody.
Sometimes we were on the streets.

In and out.
That's the way it is.

So is life, one day you win,
the other day you lose.

The staff was bribed...

by some of the young inmates.
Some of the guys in custody...

are drug-dealers...

kidnappers, assassins.

And they have money outside.

I could have lots of money...

but I would never show it.
Wear a lot of gold on me? What for?

So the cops can jump me?

When we catch cops, we cut
their throats. Cut their throats...

pour petrol on them
and set them alight.

Reduce them to ashes.

What? Pity?

If they don't give me the money...

I set them on fire.

Just try me.

I turn them into human torches.
You shitting me?

Remember the job where some friends
soaked the old lady in petrol...

but got caught?
They all grew up with me.

About Mancha...

I know the thoughts he had.

He led a similar life to ours.

That bus thing...
I don't know why he got on the bus.

Maybe he saw someone come
out of a bank and get on the bus.

Maybe he wanted to rob the bus.
If he did, that was stupid.

We don't rob buses.
We rob rich people.

He used to say: "Auntie,
when the heat's on in one place...

I go someplace else.

When it heats up there,
I move on." Got it?

"Auntie, there's going to be
a rebellion. We'll escape."

I said: "You won't escape.
Stay where you are!"

"If I don't escape,
when they come back...

they'll kill me."

So I went and talked
to somebody in charge.

I told this lady that some kids
were going to escape...

but Sandro would stay.

She said: "I doubt it."

But I said:
"Sandro won't escape."

They can't shoot underage
inmates inside, you see?

They can't shoot us
inside the institution.

They really can't.
So, we create havoc.

As many as 200, 300, 50, 70,
80 have escaped at a time.

I escaped once during Carnival,
with 400 guys.

The school was empty.

But in a month,
it was crowded again.

It always gets packed...

so that you'd have
two guys sharing a bed.

You see?

"We inform that the youngster
Sandro do Nascimento...

escaped on November 1, 1994."

What was his demand?

300 dollars? What for?

To get back to the slum,
buy some new clothes...

a few stuff, and that's it?

300 dollars? What for?

I'd ask for a hand grenade.

"Who in this bus can drive?
Nobody?"

"Send up a cop who can drive.

Any of these cocksuckers."

A hand grenade without the pin.
"Go. Drive!"

I'd like to see him refuse.

If he really wanted a grenade...

he could buy it in the slum.
They aren't expensive.

You see? He'd buy it
in the slum and go to the city...

with a grenade, man.
It would have been much easier.

No one would shoot him.

He'd be holding his grenade.

With a grenade in his hands,
who would shoot him, then...

when the grenade might go off
and kill everyone?

THE POLICE'S OPTIONS

We currently have
four tactical options...

for the resolution of
conflicts with hostages.

The first is negotiation.

The second is the employment
of a non-lethal agent.

The third one, to use a sniper,
an elite shooter.

And the fourth option
would be an assault team...

that could raid the bus.

All these teams must be
very synchronized.

Actually, they act as a group.

Coordinated by a manager.

This manager here would be
Colonel Penteado.

He would have to be
at a Crisis Centre nearby...

coordinating all those teams.

I started noticing
the lack of police equipment.

The police would use hand signals
to communicate. "Behind the car!"

The police had no radios,
nothing to communicate.

They had to use hand signals
and mimicry, to communicate...

from one side
of the bus to the other.

What was needed was
a communication device...

capable of linking the entire
police force in a network...

enabling the information to reach
the decision-maker.

That just didn't exist there.

Any weaknesses in the
police department...

of a state or country...

will become obvious
in a hostage situation.

Most of our officers...

had not received any training
for more than two years.

The outcome could not be positive.

Unless God wanted otherwise.

Geisa was worried
about Damiana.

Today we know that Damiana
had already suffered a stroke.

I think she mentioned it to us.

Geisa became desperate
when she noticed that Damiana...

was getting worse.

This is my mother.

She has to write
everything down...

because she can't talk...

due to the problems
she had after the incident.

She wrote:

DAMIANA'S DAUGHTER
"At one point, I couldn't
stand the torture any longer.

I called Sandro and said:
'Why are you doing this to us?

It's not our fault what you are...

going through.'
He said:

'Lady, I don't want to kill.
I just want to get out.

But if there's no other way,
I'll turn the heat on.'

I saw my mother on the bus,
her mouth distorted.

Geisa was comforting her.

That's when Geisa started
to shiver, in shock.

When she saw my mother's
mouth, she panicked.

...and the other one, at six
I'll shoot her in the face.

Do you think this is
some kind of action movie?

In a very frail voice,
she told Geisa:

"I can't stand it anymore."

He stuck the gun
out of the window.

His whole arm
out of the window.

Then his head too.
The elite police outside...

and he sticks his head out of the
window! Why didn't they shoot him?

He stuck his arm out
and only had a gun.

They could've shot his arm.

He wouldn't be able to kill us...

if he were unarmed!

You can't leave six people
at someone's mercy...

when you don't know
what he might do.

They didn't know
what he might do.

In that situation,
a sniper shot...

would have been ideal.

Of course...

this was being broadcast live
to the whole country...

and the outcome could be that...

something like
a pound of brain mass...

would be splattered
all over the bus windows.

I wouldn't have liked
to watch that.

My parents at home wouldn't
have liked to watch that.

But, technically, that would've
been the best thing to do.

The right thing to do.

When I saw the police
in the park...

my biggest fear was that
someone might take a shot.

I believe that
if someone had fired at us...

he'd have shot me as well.

If a sniper's shot had hit him...

in the triangular area between
his eyes and mouth...

the bullet would have hit
his nervous system.

He'd have been dead
in 7 milliseconds.

He wouldn't even have blinked.

We had men capable
of taking this shot.

Col. Penteado asked me
to take the shot.

He asked me if I could
take the shot.

From where I was,
I said I couldn't.

My gun was in the holster...

and I couldn't shoot him...

without him noticing
my movements.

So he said:
"Get over there...

and get a volunteer
to take the shot."

So that's what I am doing here.

The guy who's
giving the thumbs up...

if I'm not mistaken
is Captain Ricardo Soares.

It's him offering to take the shot.

Col. Penteado
favoured that option.

He wanted the shot to be taken.

Some officers told me
the governor called.

Others said that
the chief of police...

was in charge of the situation
from afar.

Only Col. Penteado
knows the truth.

SEAT OF GOVERNMENT
But no one is capable of dealing...

OF THE STATE OF RIO DE JANEIRO
with such a crisis from a distance.

To me it makes no difference
who interfered.

Whoever it was,
he made a mistake.

Once he took the first call...

probably from the governor,
he had to follow orders.

He had to carry out his orders:

"Spare the kidnapper's life."

Any laymen in police tactics
could point out...

at least ten opportunities
for a clear shot.

Especially us,
who are trained for it.

"Sergio, why don't you
take us outside...

to form a circle around you?

With a circle of people,
they won't be able to shoot you.

Everybody will see.
There are cameras."

He said: "Lady, you don't know
what a criminal's life is like.

I can't ask for the support
of the gangs.

I can't be arrested.
If I am, I'll be killed."

Then my mother started to talk
to Sandro about his life.

He said: "Lady, you're silly.

You know nothing."
She replied: "I do.

My brother is in prison."

He said: "Look what they did
to my back."

He showed her what they
did to him in prison. She said:

"That thing on your back,
my brother has it too.

My brother is
a convict like you.

He went through everything
you went through.

And everything
you're going through."

Geisa asked him
to let her leave...

because her mother
was feeling sick.

She called Damiana "mom".

When he said
Damiana could leave...

Geisa followed her,
expecting to leave with her.

That is what she wanted to do.

"No. She's the only one leaving.
You're not going!"

Then he said: "Let her go.
She's gonna die anyway."

I heard it because
I was right next to him.

This is what happened
with Damiana.

She gained her freedom
by telling him things.

She even said
she had a child in prison...

who was suffering like him.
She said she understood him.

I remember he said:

"If you have a child in jail,
then it's OK."

And he let her go.

"The Department of Justice
of Rio de Janeiro accuses...

Sandro do Nascimento
e Ricardo Vieira.

On February 17, 1998,
around 1 pm, in Copacabana...

the accused began a hold-up.

'I have a '45. Give me all you got!
Your wallet, your money!

All your belongings!'
After the robbery, the police...

arrested the accused,
taking them to the 12th Precinct...

to undergo appropriate formalities.

I hereby sentence
Sandro do Nascimento...

to 3 years, 3 months
and 20 days in prison."

We are entering
one of the worst jails in Rio...

FORMER WARDER, 26TH PRECINCT
the 26th Precinct: "The Vault."

As you can see,
there is no natural light.

The conditions here
aren't very agreeable.

It is a bit inhumane,
all this darkness.

This is it: "The Vault".
Closed in.

It's kind of sinister.
It was for real.

The inmates dreaded it.
When they found out they were...

coming here, they went nuts.

As you can see,
this cell would hold...

at the most 10 inmates
in very bad conditions.

10 at the most.
But there could be...

up to 25 or 30 inmates in here.
You know what they did?

Half laid down, half stood up.

They took shifts.
They also did this, see?

They hung over one another
in hammocks.

They kept their toothpaste here.
Everything was shared.

If I'm not mistaken,
this is a communal strap.

They all hung over one another.

It's very hot,
it's a real hell.

This is where Sandro stayed.

You had approximately
40 people in here.

Sandro was well-behaved.

Weird, isn't it?
People would say that...

because he robbed...

and he was a street kid...

he was a rebellious character.
It was quite the opposite.

We, who met him here...

in prison he always
behaved well.

Was he a criminal?
Sure he was.

But here in jail
he was well-behaved.

He was a peaceful guy.
He never gave us any hassle.

Never caused any troubled.
Although he lived in this...

I don't know what to call it.

It is no jail.

Anyway, this is what they got.

Sandro made some friends here.

Because in here
you had to make friends.

If you make enemies inside...

you go to sleep
and you're a goner.

No one ever paid Sandro a visit.

Nobody. Not a friend,
much less a relative.

Nobody.

On New Year's Eve 1999...

Sandro escaped with some guys.

They got the key,
broke into our locker...

and took my gun and Vitor's.

The leader was
Odair of Mangueira.

Sandro, along with some other guys,
just went with the flow.

Some cells were open.
He was in one of them.

He took advantage of that
and escaped.

When he passed by me,
he said:

"Sorry, gotta go.
This is my chance."

So he left.

"Urgent. Sandro do Nascimento
escaped from the 26th Precinct...

on January 1, 1999."

One day, he calls me:

"Auntie, I'm by the ferries."
I said: "Where?

In Niteroi or Rio?"
"Niteroi."

"I escaped with some friends...

I'd like you to
bring me some trainers.

I need you to buy me
some trainers...

and lend me some money.

I'm going to change my life.
You'll see.

I'm going to change.
I'll be famous worldwide."

He hugged me,
he kissed and thanked me.

"Auntie, I'll pay you back."
I said:

"You don't need to.

Sort your life out.
Stop living like this.

Quit running away."

NOVA HOLANDA SLUM
He said: "I don't want to live
in Boa Vista with the family.

I've got a house
in Nova Holanda.

I'll take you there someday.

One of these days,
I'll take you to my home."

We'd see each other
in Nova Holanda...

playing video games
on the main street of the slum.

We'd pick up a girl,
go to different places...

the Stop Time Hotel...

fancy places, you know?

We led similar lives.

We'd smoke a joint,
play soccer...

work out, fly kites.

Afterwards,
he'd go to his house...

and I'd go to mine.

All in the neighbourhood.
In Nova Holanda.

He developed a mother
and son relationship.

In the slum... Sandro started
living with this woman.

She treated him like a son.

ADOPTED AS MOTHER BY SANDRO
He told me: "I looked for you...

'cause I think you should be
by my side."

He told me about his life,
what he had been through.

"Life is short, mom."

That's how he explained it.

He'd come in and say:
"I can't believe I have a home.

I have a bathroom.

I have a stove
where I can fry chips."

He loved chips.

Then he'd fold his arms
behind his head...

and he would stare at the TV.

I took the bed out...

because he didn't like
to sleep on the bed.

He liked to sleep on the floor,
with the windows open.

He would tell me:

"This is like a dream.

Is this room really mine?"
"Of course.

It is your bedroom."

"Can I have a TV set here,
make a little corner here?"

"Sure."
"If I feel like it, can I lock the door?"

"Yes." He'd ask my permission
for everything.

I really wanted him
to feel comfortable.

I said: "Son, if you want...

when you get a job...

even if it's not a regular job...

you can build an extension
to the house.

Build an extension. You could
raise your family close to me."

He agreed.

He had willpower,
but something...

put him off his track.
Maybe it was fear.

I'm not sure if he was too shy...

or someone threatened him.
I don't know.

He'd say: "I have to be
someone in life.

I want to be an artist. I want to
do something with my life."

"If you try hard enough,
you will make it."

He'd say: "I want to work.

I will talk to Aunt Yvonne."

She was his social worker.

"I want her to get me a job.
I want to study and work."

He'd say things like that.

I'd say: "If you really want it...

you can make it."

I was in touch with him
two months before...

the bus incident.
He asked me for a job.

He said: "Aunt Yvonne,
I'm tired of this life.

I'd like to get a job.
Who would give me a job?

Look at me.

I can't read or write.
I don't have social security.

I've never had a job.
What can I do...

besides what I do now...
who'd give me a chance?

Nobody ever did."

He said that I'd see him on TV,
that he'd be famous.

See? I told him:

"I really hope so.
I want to see you as a big success.

I want you to see it too."
And he: "You'll see it.

Even if I don't see it, you will."

THE NEGOTIATION CONTINUES

"By six o'clock,
I'll kill a hostage."

He obviously wanted to get out
of there. That's what he wanted.

He covered me, and I said:

"I can't see a thing." He said:
"You don't need to."

He said he would count to 100...

and then shoot me.

He counted "One..."
and walked to the back of the bus.

"Two..." and he'd walk
up to the front.

He counted "One, two, three"
and then he'd jump to 60.

At each jump...

I'd start an Our Father,
but never finish it.

Your life passes before you
in flashes...

of everything you've
experienced...

and everything you'd like to do
and haven't done.

When he made me
kneel down...

it was clear to me that
he was going to kill me.

You feel very fragile...

because you don't know
if you'll live or die.

You're controlled by someone
who is willing to kill you...

who has nothing to lose.
At the time...

I thought I was simply
going to die...

and there was nothing
I could do about it.

"Warn them.
Tell them I'm gonna shoot her.

Tell them I'm gonna shoot her
or you'll suffer."

I heard him tell Janaina to lay down.

I thought:
"My time has come.

If I'm gonna die,
it's gonna be now."

It is a very tricky situation
when there are cameras around.

Is it tolerable?

Is it tolerable in an incident
with ten hostages?

Yes.

It is not nice to hear that.
No one likes to hear that.

However...

casualties are a possibility.

We know there may be casualties.

Hey, sergeant!

I asked for a pistol
and a hand grenade, right?

Write it down: 300 dollars,
two hand grenades...

He killed the girl!

- Don't you believe it?
- He killed the girl!

Sandro gave us the opportunity.

When the kidnapper
starts shooting the hostages...

it's time to raid the place.

Everyone started screaming.

It was nerve-racking.

At that moment, I thought the police
were going to raid the bus.

For the love of God!

The criminal would be...

shot by the sniper...

and the squad would
raid the bus...

finish him off...

and save the hostages' lives.

For the love of God!

He killed a girl, for Christ's sake!

He killed a girl!

Hey, Chief, I'm gonna
kill another now. Look!

We had no idea how bad
the hostage was hit.

The first one is down,
you have to go in...

even if it puts the lives
of the others at risk.

At least some will be saved.

We can't wait
for him to shoot everybody.

That gunshot should have been
our cue to move in.

But unfortunately...

The commander, Col. Penteado...

was talking on his mobile
all the time...

and checking with
police chief Marta Rocha...

and the local police commander...

who I think was from
the 2nd Battalion.

He knew what he had to do.

For some reason, he didn't do it.

At that moment,
some of us...

were positioned and had
a clear shot of Sandro.

But the colonel didn't authorize it.

He wanted Sandro alive.

I think deep down he knew...

the right thing to do
would be to take the shot.

There was someone
possibly injured...

and in need of medical attention.
Time could be crucial.

But he didn't authorize the shot.
He felt paralyzed...

by the orders he had received...

even if they went against
everything that he knew.

Where's the rifle and the grenade?

Mr. Officer, let's talk.

I'm gonna kill another one.

If I don't get what I asked for.

I'm gonna shoot another one.
If I don't get it by six...

she dies.

The police didn't believe it...

they didn't want to believe...

that she was really dead.

For a while, we weren't sure...

if she had been hit.

It's almost six now.
We have a watch here.

She's gonna die now.

He's gonna shoot another girl.
He's already killed one.

He's gonna shoot her soon.

You are not the one with a gun
to your head. "Keep calm!"

Give me a break!

Trust you?

When there's a girl bleeding
on the floor?

Is that what you want? Shit!

He asked everyone to scream,
to shout...

to look desperate.

Janaina, Geisa and I...

we all understood.

Everybody cooperated,
by screaming and crying...

beyond the despair
that we really felt.

I knew...

that nothing had happened,
that it was a bluff...

because the other women...

didn't jump out of the windows.

I think that anyone on a bus...

going someplace,
coming from college...

going home,
would have jumped.

Mr. Officer, one is already down.

Another one is going down.

There's gonna be lots of blood.

Lots of blood.

He wasn't going to kill anyone
because...

it wasn't in his nature.
Or else he'd had done if before...

in his life, as a street kid...

lost in the world,
without a thing.

He would have killed before if that
was in his character. But it wasn't.

At the last second...

with the gun pointing at
my head, he said:

"I'm not gonna kill you,
but I'm gonna shoot...

and I want everybody to scream."

It was when I heard someone
open a window.

I think it was Geisa.
I heard everybody screaming,

I was screaming too.

We were putting on an act.
It was an act.

When I realised I was alive...

I started crying,
to get out of my system...

everything I had gone through
that whole afternoon...

in his power.
That's when...

I realised I was OK,
that I was alive.

You cry out of joy.

You figure it's all over.

He wanted people outside to see...

how desperate we were...

so he could get what he wanted.

Parallel conversations
were going on.

One for the cameras
and the people outside...

and one for us inside the bus.

Deputy...

I'm gonna do this one
in front of you...

for you to see.

He was in control
of the situation.

He could change things
any time he liked.

Sergio, don't you want a driver?

He's on his way.
It takes time.

- There's no driver here.
- Deputy, get over here!

- The driver is on his way.
- Deputy!

Deputy, for the love of God!

Deputy, get over here!
Get over here!

You're scared, aren't you?

You're scared, aren't you?

You fucked with me
and now you're scared!

He's making his last moves...

but he doesn't have it in him
to kill...

an innocent person,
a person...

who has nothing to do
with his personal war.

You draw up
his psychological profile.

He wants to get out of there,
he doesn't want to be...

arrested again,
to go through...

all that horror again.

When you're arrested,
they take you to the police station.

They beat you up really bad
when you get there.

If you try anything,
it's even worse.

If you try to argue, it's worse.

They knock the shit out of us.
They do what they have to.

JAIL OF A REGULAR PRECINCT

IN RIO DE JANEIRO, 2002

Where there's room for five,
they place 11, 12.

There's room for three,
but we're eleven.

Hey, lay there for the film.

Just lay there...
Look at how we sleep.

The whole day here without walking,
then look how we sleep.

We were at the 31st Precinct.

They brought us here
beating us up on the way.

They kicked our butts.

It's very crowded in here.
There's no place to sleep.

We're already sleeping
on cold rock.

They treat our families badly.

They give us rotten food.

We're constantly hassled.
I have leprosy.

There's no medical assistance.

People are fucked over,
some are in here illegally...

when they should be back
with their families.

There's no room in the prisons...

There is, if you pay them off.

We'll probably be beaten up
after you leave.

They beat us up.

These are subhuman conditions.

I've been in jail
for over a year.

Neither my family in Paraguay...

nor the consulate knows about it.
They should be informed...

because I was wrongly accused.

The situation in Brazil
is really bad.

And the prisoner's situation
is the worst of all.

How can a prisoner
be rehabilitated?

How do they expect this country
to be less violent?

Treating prisoners
the way they do?

They're not gonna feel good
when they leave jail.

They'll probably mug and
kill more and more.

Take me, for example.
I'm in jail...

after I've done my time.

And I'm still in custody.

This is crazy!
Nothing works in this country.

They only care
about the elections.

Reality is really sad.

What you see ain't a third of it.

The things we go through here...

what we have to go through here,
it's really like hell.

We would be better off dead
than in here.

That is the truth.

It's better to be dead...

than to be in jail.

This ain't gonna do
any good...

He'll kill the girl now.

When they've been arrested before,
they are more violent.

It's harder to make them surrender
because they know what jail is like...

and they don't want to go back.

Hey, this is because
you're not getting it.

This is because
you're trying to be a hero.

You're trying to be
a smart-ass...

During the whole time, it looked
like he was angrier with Geisa.

She lied to Sandro.
She told him a lie...

that she had a brother in prison.
Sandro found out...

it was a lie.
This must have caused...

the opposite effect
of the Stockholm Syndrome.

He lost trust in her.

It seemed that
if anyone had to die...

it would be Geisa.

On the bus she said...

that Damiana was her mother.

I read Damiana's diaries...

and found out that
she told him...

her brother had been in prison...

or was still in prison.
Something like that.

Five...

Aren't you gonna give me
the gun, Deputy?

He asked:
"Where is your brother being held?"

Geisa didn't know what to say.

In fact, she knew everything
about my uncle's life.

But my uncle never stayed
in one prison for long.

He'd often be transferred
to different jails.

After he entered the system,
he never stayed anywhere for long.

That's why Geisa didn't know
how to answer.

I was sitting down the whole time
during the incident.

Then he grabbed me
and yelled to the cops:

"Look how pretty this one is! If you
don't like the other one, look at her."

He showed me off at the window
for everyone to see.

He stayed with me
at the back window...

pointing the gun at my forehead
for everyone to see.

He told us to cry.
He told us...

to make things seem
more dramatic...

than they really were.

There was a conversation
going on inside the bus...

but he didn't want
people to notice.

I didn't really believe
that he would shoot me.

But, eventually,
I actually started to believe it.

The fine line between
pretence and reality...

was broken.

And I believed
he would kill me right there.

Then I leaned against him...

and took hold of his arm.

I asked him not to kill me.

When I realised he might kill me,
I begged.

He got annoyed and said:
"Shut up or I'll really kill you!"

So I looked at him and said:

"Well, don't you
want me to pretend?"

Then he looked at me
and I think he realised...

that there was...

some ambiguity
in what he was doing.

Either he wanted us
to put on an act...

or he really wanted to kill us.

And then it seemed to me...

that he felt bad about it.

He felt bad about the fact that
I was asking him to comfort me...

he who was willing to kill me...

or pretending he would.

I didn't know
if he was pretending...

or not...

but even if he was pretending...

an unexpected move...

could make the gun go off.

So even if it wasn't
his intention to shoot me...

it could happen.

Geisa was very scared.

She couldn't even stand up.

Then she sat down and I said:

"Geisa, he won't kill you.
He won't kill you."

She said: "He's gonna kill me!"

I said: "He won't."

But she was still petrified.

I made her lean her head
on my shoulder...

and hugged her.

I was trying to soothe her.

She seemed to calm down a little.

I told them that they should...

make an effort
to get closer to him.

"Be his friend,
you have to be his friend."

I think the girl with the glasses
understood it.

It seemed that
she was doing stuff...

to create a bond...

between her and him,
which was what we wanted.

Since we weren't really
making contact with him...

we made sure...

that the hostages did.

I spoke to her, I talked to her...

and told her this:

"You have to be calm.

You have to make him feel
that everything is fine."

At one stage
when things were calmer...

I said to him:
"You must really like...

your sister.
What's she like?"

"She has long hair,
a little shorter than yours."

So I was trying to establish
a friendly atmosphere as if...

as if we weren't there.

As if that conversation
was taking place elsewhere.

Without all that tension.
I was trying to...

take his mind off the situation...

the feeling of being trapped.

I was trying to show that
I cared about him...

in some way,
not only because I was scared...

of what he might do to me...

but as a human being.

I don't know what
led him to do that...

to be who he was.

Now I think: "He was...

21 or 22 years old,
the same age I am now."

At the time I was 19.

He had lived as long as I have.

What could have been happening
inside his head?

What happened in his life...

that led him to do that...

to be the person he was?

CLARISSE - MOM
JULIETA - AUNT

BOA VISTA NEIGHBOURHOOD

"'O Fluminense' newspaper...

March 27, 1988.

The tragedy shocked
the residents of Boa Vista.

Clarice was five months pregnant.

She was a cheerful,
good-natured woman...

much admired by her customers...

and loved by children.

The victim left a trail of blood
from the counter to the street.

She fell out of the door...

and dragged herself onto the street
screaming for help that never came."

I can only imagine
what it was like...

for Sandro to see
those three guys...

attacking his mother,
stabbing her.

I think he stayed by her side...

during the whole ordeal.

He saw the knife
in my sister's back.

I'm sure he did.
My sister...

came rolling
from the kitchen to the bar.

She fell onto her back...

it pushed the knife in deeper.

He saw it all.
He only called me...

after she was already
lying on the floor.

He said: "Auntie, come and help Mom.
She's hurt, Auntie."

"Incident report.

The body was found
on the street...

in front of the victim's shop.

A kitchen knife
with a wooden handle...

was in the victim's back,
at the right shoulder.

The baby stirred in her belly.

I thought she was alive because
the baby was moving a lot.

Her belly moved.

Maybe it was the lack of oxygen.

I don't know.
The baby moved...

so I asked people
to take her to a doctor.

But she was dead.
Her heart had stopped.

We were talking as if we were...

regular friends, you know?

Then Gloria,
who was near us...

asked me, at that moment
to put around his neck...

a chain with an image
of the Virgin Mary.

Then I asked him:

"Do you believe in the Virgin Mary?"
That was the saint in the pendant.

"No, I only believe in God."

Then, I asked him:
"Do you know...

who's the greatest victim
in this bus? Of this incident?"

He stopped and stared at
the floor thinking about it.

Then, I said: "You."

So he...

he thought about that.

It was as if he had
just grasped the situation.

I said: "Sandro, do you want
to come to mom's funeral?"

He took a while to answer.

He went to pee and came back.

I said: "Do you want
to say goodbye to mommy...

before she goes to Heaven?"

"Auntie, I'm gonna play marbles."
Like nothing had happened.

"No, Auntie. I'm staying.
I'm flying a kite."

He had many excuses.
"I'm flying a kite."

He hadn't forgotten
what had happened.

He wanted to stay
as far away as he could...

from that neighbourhood.

He wanted to be far
from the place...

where he saw
everything happen.

He would make a decision...

then he'd change his mind,
decide he didn't want...

to exchange the hostages.

He just wanted to stay there.
He said...

he didn't trust the cops.

He said he knew they would
kill him. If he didn't watch out...

they'd kill him.

"I'm gonna die anyway.
I've got nothing to lose."

When I got home that night...

my mom said that Sandro...

had run away,
she hadn't seen him all day.

He went onto the streets
and we never saw him again.

Whatever the outcome...

the hostages' chances
of getting out of there unharmed...

were far greater than his.

Dead or in jail,
he was going to be worse off.

I'm against what he did
with that bus.

I'm against what
the police did too.

It's all violence, right?
Nothing can justify what happened.

But he wasn't going to kill
anyone in that bus.

He was incapable of it.

He never killed anyone,
he never would.

You see, he threatened them...

but he wasn't going to
kill anyone.

I had in mind that he just
wanted to escape...

that he didn't want
to hurt anybody.

I had this thought.

No fooling around!
Move back!

Son of a bitch!

Then there was such a mess...

that I didn't know whether he
or the police had fired a shot.

Who had fired?
We couldn't know.

I heard him say:

"Let's go for a walk."

I felt all the emotion...

the relief that it was all over.

I didn't know what was
going to happen.

That there was going to be
shooting.

I said: "Geisa, he is not
going to kill you.

He isn't!
She said: "He'll kill me!

He will!
I insisted: "He won't."

If he'd wanted to kill anyone,
he'd have done it in the beginning.

I remember Geisa crying...

and Sandro pointing a gun
to her head.

When he decided
to take Geisa outside...

"Let's go for a walk."

Nobody was talking to him
by then.

Not even the cops.
He simply made up his mind.

I was talking on the phone
when I suddenly realised...

that he was leaving the bus.

Sandro leaving the bus...

wasn't good for the police.

Quite the opposite.
A static situation...

should never be allowed
to become mobile.

If he had walked down
the street with Geisa...

he could have been lynched...

or he could have taken
more hostages.

We didn't expect him
to leave the bus.

We thought it was very unlikely,
with all those guns around him.

We thought he had realised...

that any attempt to escape...

would put his life in danger.

At that time, there were
a dozen photographers...

kneeling in front of me.

When he got off the bus
holding a terrified woman...

he thought he could
use her despair...

to convince us
to let him go away.

He wanted to get out
onto the street with her...

run away and try to escape.

He was holding onto the girl,
but he just wanted to get out.

Negotiate with the police?
What? He was out of his mind.

He said he'd kill anyone
who got in his way...

that he wanted to get away.

What could those
heavily armed cops do?

Where would Sandro go?

Would they shoot him?

Would there be crossfire
with many victims?

He was going to give himself in.
There were lots of cameras.

He'd come out alive.
He thought:

"Who would kill me on TV?"
No one.

What was that policeman thinking?

Sandro had his back turned,
so he took advantage.

But the machine gun's bolt
wasn't armed.

He charged against Sandro...

He knew that
if he released the bolt...

Sandro would spot him.

When he was about a foot...

from Sandro's head,
he released the bolt.

Unfortunately, Sandro spotted him.

He had a hostage...

a gun with three bullets,
and Marcelo charging him...

with a gun pointed to his face.

What would be
the normal reaction?

He should have used the hostage
as shield and fired at his attacker.

Even though he knew...

that the other cops could kill him.

If someone tried to shoot him...

his finger was on the trigger.
He'd kill Geisa anyway.

That movement of his head
was enough...

to make Marcelo
miss both shots.

At that moment,
people realised...

how unprepared we were.

All the things we asked for...

equipment, training...

courses... It fell to the ground
at that moment.

What did Marcelo do?

He did what he was taught.

He took the initiative.

Unfortunately,
that day we were going to lose.

He missed by an inch.

Personally, I think
that the moment...

was perfect for the action.
Only, he missed the shot.

They're supposed to be trained
to deal with these things.

We all make mistakes.

But these are human lives.
It's serious.

Very serious.

The cop came firing at him
and he shot the girl.

If he'd shot the police
and got away...

I'd have applauded him.
If he'd killed two or three cops...

and got away...

all his friends
would have applauded him.

But he took the weaker option.

It was the most chaotic moment...

because I thought
Marcelo had shot him.

So I tried to grab him...

to pull him towards me.

Why? Because I thought
his fingers spasms...

could pull the trigger
and kill Geisa.

So I jumped on him...

thinking he was dead,
or almost dead.

But to my surprise,
he wasn't dead.

I pulled him up
and he was alive.

I leaned over him and Geisa to try...

to get his gun in case
he fired more shots.

He had fired once
as they were...

falling and twice more
when they were on the ground.

When I got hold of him,
he shot her.

Only one cop acted
at that moment...

when Sandro fell to the floor
and started shooting at Geisa.

He was the only officer...

who tried to take the gun
from Sandro...

and save the hostage's life.

He's the only one who deserves
any credit: Captain Batista.

I knew she had been hit
when I saw her.

From the look in her eyes,
I knew a vital organ had been hit.

Son of a bitch!

I only had time to take
the camera off the tripod...

and run.
Crowds came from everywhere...

to lynch Sandro.

They wanted revenge.

They wanted to take
a little piece of Sandro home...

as a souvenir.

I knew that if I ran...

no policeman
would try to stop me.

And then I...

I saw her being carried
by a firefighter...

to the car, the ambulance...

Then I saw it...
the blood stains.

Her eyes were turned up,
she was dead.

I'll never forget it.

I thought that she
wasn't going to die.

It was like I had lied to her.

Because I had told her
that she wouldn't die.

They went at him to kill.

The crowd was pushing
the police and yelling:

"Kill him! Kill him!"

The guy died in front of everyone.
Thousands of people watched it.

The whole of Brazil saw him die.

The police thought
that Sandro had been hit.

The blood on Sandro's head...

made them believe he was hit.

Could this have led the police
to execute him?

Yes, it could.

I wouldn't bet against it.

You'll die in jail!

Son of a bitch!

The officers told me that Sandro
was extremely agitated...

He was struggling...

he shattered the police car's
windscreen with his feet.

He even...

bit the police officers...

he broke an officer's arm.

They say that's why they had to
suffocate him, to make him faint.

As for Sandro's death,
I have no opinion on the matter.

I don't intend to discuss it.

The crowd wanted to see a show.

At the end of the show,
the bad guy dies.

That's common in our society.

The police killed him by
asphyxiation. They suffocated him.

Who in that situation
wouldn't kill that hijacker?

As well as being a cop...

a policeman is a human being,
who is there watching...

They too have feelings
of hatred and frustration...

that they repress...

just like other people,
who are powerless to act.

But policemen do have power.

That's normal for them, cowardice.

Cowardice is what they're good at.

Just think of it. They caught him
alive and killed him.

You see? They love that.

If they could, they'd kill
everybody they arrested.

But when there's
people watching...

they can't.

The police killed
Sandro's friends...

in Candelaria.
Now, they'd finished the job.

This story comes full circle.

The police do the dirty work
that society doesn't want to see...

but that the public hopes
will get done...

in some dark corner.

Society wants to
get rid of all Sandros.

We want all Sandros to vanish.

We don't want to face reality.

We cannot bear it.

His invisibility was restored...

by the police force.

Invisibility is perfectly achieved
through death.

They killed him because
they're used to killing.

They know
they won't be punished...

because who stands up
for the Sandros?

Who?

Who will stand up for the Sandros?

No one.

I think I have forgiven Sandro...

for what happened.
But I know that's easy to say...

because he isn't here, for me to
say it to his face: "I forgive you."

Can I forgive him? Yes.
I can forgive him...

for what he did to us, but I cannot
forgive him for having shot Geisa.

I can't forgive him for that.

Geisa was 20 years old.

She had her whole life
ahead of her.

We were living
our simple lives...

the way we always did.

We were quiet in our corner,
happy...

making plans.

And it all ended
in a pool of blood.

Today we leave our homes...

uncertain if we'll be back.

They left home to run some errands.
And she died on the way.

She died on the way.

I really wanted to go there.

I really wanted
to bury my nephew.

But what would happen
if I said I was Sandro's aunt?

They would come after me
at my house, at my work...

There would be lots of reporters.
I didn't want that.

I dressed him in a white shirt.

And I told him:
"This is not what you wanted.

Your dream was to work
and raise a family.

But you took the wrong path.

This isn't what I wanted for you.

But Jesus will forgive you.

God bless you.

Rest in peace."

THE FIRST SHOT SLIGHTLY
INJURED GEISA'S FACE.

THE SECOND SHOT
MISSED THE TARGET.

THE TWO SHOTS
THAT KILLED GEISA

WERE FIRED BY SANDRO.

CAPTIONS BY VIDEOLAR