Law & Order: Criminal Intent (2001–2011): Season 8, Episode 16 - Revolution - full transcript

Male announcer: In New York
City's war on crime,

the worst criminal offenders
are pursued

by the detectives
of the major case squad.

These are their stories.

* one, two, three, four,
Continental is a whore *

* one, two, three, four,
Continental is a whore *

* one, two, three, four,
Continental is a whore *

they're ready for you.

I'd rather meet
those people outside.

Who's here?
The team from treasury,

the President's
deputy Wall Street czar,



FCC, FDIC...

Just what the country needs--

government bureaucrats
no business would hire

making banking decisions.

Nobody here thinks
this is your fault, sir.

* one, two, three, four,
Continental is a whore *

you hear that?

This is the sound of history.

Hm, sounds like
they're ready to bust some ass.

Yeah, I think they are.

* one, two-*
all they need is someone

to show them the way.

I'm gonna go get the wheels.
* Continental is a whore *

* one, two, three, four,
Continental is a whore *



* one, two, three, four *

our capital reserves
exceed your requirements.

I don't know why
we're even talking about this.

We're talking about it
because Continental Bankcorp

made 50,000 loans
it shouldn't have made.

50,000 people shouldn't have
lied on their loan applications.

No one's here
to point fingers, Mr. Evans.

Really?

[Muffled footsteps]

[Pounding on door]

Got an Audi,
out of a parking lot.

No one's gonna miss it
for a while.

Where did you put it?

Port authority.

It's gonna cost you
a few dollars.

Go, take a look.

Yeah?

Wow.

This looks great, man.

Looks real, uh, comfy.

Yell.
What?

Axel, wait!

[Muffled] Axel!
Axel, let me out!

Let me out, man!
Just let me out!

Come on, man!

Man, stop playing!

Yo, man, you know
I don't like tight places, man.

Shh, shh, shh,
no more tight places,

not for you, not anymore.

Hello, sweetheart.

What time?

You sure?

Good.

I should've switched
to the Yankees

when Hernandez retired.

Game six, I was there.

I should've been there.
I was at my desk.

Ha ha, maybe
you work too hard, sir.

It's all right.

Looks like
I'll be retiring soon,

I'll meet you
in the bleachers.

[Tires screeching]

Oh, my god. My baby.
Lady! The baby!

Your gun, take it out.

Don't even think about it.

It's o--it's okay.
It's okay.

Money? You want money?
I've got money.

Yeah, ain't that the truth.

Aah!

[Struggling groans]

[Gunshot]
[Groan]

What did you do?

He--he tried to bite me!

[Gunshot]

Get in the car.

Now!
[Gunshot]

[Tires squealing]

Bike messenger got a look

at the getaway car's
license plate.

This one's Peter Evans.

CEO of Continental Bankcorp.
Villain of the month.

He bought a corporate jet
with federal bailout money.

Yeah, a corporate jet
with marble bath tiles.

This one's his driver,
Jerry Dellarosa.

He didn't buy anything.

[Scoffs]

NYPD retirement ring,
detective's shield.

His cushy retirement job.

You've noticed
about the baby carriage.

Yeah, no sign of a baby.

No blanket, no little
plastic animals on a string.

Right, okay, so mom--
make that fake mom--

steps out in front of this car,
driver slams on the brakes,

too late, gets out to see
how much he's getting sued for,

mom pulls a gun.

The other two join the party,

and then something...
Screws up.

This isn't the way
it was supposed to go.

Understatement, right?

We didn't touch it
till you guys got here.

It's registered to
a Marvin Chapman in short hills,

reported stolen last night,

matches the plates
you're looking for.

Nice wide open space
to leave it at.

They wanted us to find it.
Mm-hmm.

I don't know, maybe--
what's that on the back seat?

Looks like a bakery box.

Uh-huh.

Oh, they even left us
a snack, huh?

Uh-huh, may I?

Certainly.
Thank you.

[Beeping]

Okay, why don't we all back up
and call the bomb squad?

Booby trap?

Kidnap a banker,
kill a cop?

Did you just save our lives?

You can buy breakfast.

It was a fertilizer bomb

attached to
the dome light circuit,

opening a door
would've set it off.

But busting out a window?
Perfectly safe.

I just wanted
to take a look.

Good thing that you did.

This was delivered an hour ago
to the New York times.

"The American workers army
has declared war

on the fat-cat exploiters
who are sucking our blood."

Evans.

Their timing is impeccable--
public mood at the moment.

I'm surprised
we're not seeing bankers

strung up
along Madison Avenue.

How do we know that's not
from some bored teenager

who heard about
the murders on the news?

Paragraph eleven.

"The baby carriage
was empty as a banker's heart.

"The shells in the banker
were from a .380.

His lackey
got nine millimeter."

Some bored teenager
wouldn't know that.

Special agent
Carmen Martino,

detectives Nichols, Eames.

The FBI will be cooperating
with you on the investigation.

"Pig system is death.

"Murder must answer murder.

We have started
the revolution last night."

That's not very good English.

It's not an SAT exam.

It could be a native
Spanish speaker or German.

Some language
where the present perfect

is the same
as the simple past.

You're starting to remind me
of someone.

This one's taller.

Whoever ambushed Evans
knew where he was going.

Well, his secretary didn't.

She just told us
he was supposed to be meeting

with this lawyer for dinner.

Ever since AIG
handed out those bonus payments,

the cretin class
thinks that everybody down

on wall street's
stealing taxpayer money.

Evans reduced his own salary
to a dollar a year.

Tell him to get
the hell out of there,

let somebody else
fight the government.

Didn't realize the damn
Bolsheviks were coming back.

Thanks, Shelley.
You two want anything?

No, we're good.

The flowers were delivered
to Mrs. Evans.

I can't believe this.

His daughter just gave birth
to twins, for crying out loud.

Your dinner
last night, Mr. Bloom?

Yeah, uh,
Positano and Tribeca.

I didn't think
we'd actually get in,

so I texted Pete
while he was in his meeting.

Who knew that
he was gonna be there?

Uh, me, Pete,
people at the restaurant.

No one else?
Like who?

Who made the reservation?

Oh, that was Shelley.

Hey, Shelley.

Shelley?

Where's
Mr. Bloom's secretary?

Well, she just
grabbed her handbag and left.

Cops got there faster
than we thought they would.

They saw you.
They didn't see me.

They saw Shelley Smith,

who lives in Murray Hill,

except she doesn't exist.

I was gonna have to get
a new job, anyway.

Ah, you're not supposed
to need a new job.

We were supposed to have

a million-dollar hostage
in the closet.

So instead we killed one

of the most hated capitalists
in America.

Have you seen the Internet?

Yeah...the popular anger
is boiling over.

We are being hailed
as the vanguard.

Like you said,
we struck the match.

[Sighs]

It was a good day.

You were very strong.

When the shooting started...

[Sighs]

Listen to me.

A revolution
is not a dinner party.

You are very brave.

I don't really know
much about her.

She only worked there
a couple of months.

You must've talked
about something.

She wanted to know
all about the firm's clients--

who worked where,
personal habits.

Anything
about her personal life?

Who her friends were,
where she lived?

She did once say
that she had trouble sleeping

because of noise
from a bar near her apartment.

What bar?

Shelley's address
doesn't exist.

Her social security numbers
are phony.

Did you get anything from her?

Yeah, our girl
never wears lipstick,

and she lives near a bar.

Mm, how many bars could
there be in New York City?

4 million.

So what's next?
Another kidnapping?

You know, maybe we should get
somebody from the government--

another kidnapping?

We didn't do a kidnapping
the first time.

You saw what was going down.
I didn't have no choice.

No, there is always a choice.

You know, I'm thinking
about offing my boss, man.

He always giving me crap,
and everybody else.

It's oppression, classic.

He is your boss.

You would be a suspect,
lead the police right to us.

Not if I do it right.
This is not the time.

Not the ti--
so what?

So you my new boss now, huh?

Look, I'll take
responsibility, all right?

Come on,
I know what I'm doing.

All right.

Look, our next action
involves a bank.

Birgit, show him.

Yeah! Wall street.

Hit them
where they live, right?

Did you have to?

Oh, he was out of control,

a danger to us.

No loose ends.

Have you seen the Internet?

They have a fan group
on Facebook.

Yeah?
We're not joining it.

NYPD, FBI just
put out this statement.

"Despite the rhetoric,

these are nothing
but common criminals."

Oh, the bad guys write
sexier statements than we do.

But we're not insane.

"There's no need
to overreact.

"City and federal authorities

have the situation
well under control."

If I were them,
I'd want to prove this wrong.

We're taking all necessary
safety precautions.

What do you think
we should be saying, detective?

Uh, that communism is dead.

That they're trying
to replace

a flawed system
with a failed one.

Do you want to have
a political-science seminar?

Uh, no, I want to have
a conversation,

not challenge them
to blow something up.

Speaking of, forensics
analyzed the bomb in the car.

It was made with urea,

a chemical fertilizer
mainly used in growing wheat.

Where's the nearest
wheat farm? Indiana?

American-made urea

doesn't exceed .3%
Biuret content--

whatever that is--
but this was .5%.

Ah, the good imported stuff.

How does it come
into the country?

On boats.

The last load of urea

came in a month ago
on a ship out of Brazil.

How was it packed?
Loose? In bags?

Locked
in five-ton containers,

transferred to semis, and
sent on a highway to Hickville.

We're thinking someone broke
into one of those containers.

What, for fertilizer?

Who worked that shipment?

Crew nine.

Half a dozen guys.

I had to lay them off, though.
Things are slow.

You have their names?
Addresses?

Think someone built a bomb?

Was anybody
on crew nine foreign?

This guy.

I think he was German.
We called him "the kraut."

I would've let him go
even if times were good.

Why's that?

Eh, he was more
into talking than working,

his crazy politics.

And especially after lunch,
he'd come back all hopped up.

John Kaldner,
636 east 22nd street.

636 east 22nd street.

I feel like
we're chasing ghosts.

They're not ghosts...
And they're chasing us.

"City and federal authorities

have the situation
well under control."

[Scoffs]
This is their illusion.

They control nothing,
not really.

Look at us,
two little people.

And how many
do they have working on this?

Dozens? Hundreds?

And yet, here we are.

It's not just us.

There was another tea party
in Boston.

Protests in Seattle,
one in Houston.

I remember this
from years ago,

people taking
to the streets.

Then, it was Vietnam.

This time, the banks.

Well, Birgit...

When the people rise up...
[Clicks tongue]

Oh, sure, the bourgeois
dabblers, we will drop away.

But there are those
who will join with us

when they see
that we are here.

You will see.

Another kidnapping?

I still have the files
from the law firm--

home addresses and...

No.

I think it's time
we make some noise.

John Kaldner's work I.D.,

he's as much of a phantom
as Shelley Smith.

They had fake documents,
never said anything personal

to their co-workers.

No one ever got
an actual address

or working phone number
from either of them.

Living like fugitives.

And I have a hunch
about from where.

The Baader-Meinhof gang?
Remember them?

Terrorized Germany
in the '70s and '80s,

preached the overthrow
of capitalism,

murdered bankers--
any of this sound familiar?

So what, New York
just entered a time warp?

Our guy's the right age.
He has a German accent.

Listen to this from
a Baader-Meinhof communique,

"this murdering world can
be saved only by more murder."

"The pig's system is death.
Murder must answer murder,"

from the letter to the times.

Either our guy's a plagiarist,
or one of them's decided

now's the time
to swing back into action.

So the economy sucks,

that doesn't mean that people

are gonna start a revolution
just because some European hippy

crawled out of a cave.

He's recruited
a young woman, a black kid.

Baader-Meinhof recruited
disaffected teenagers.

They didn't know
Karl Marx from Groucho,

but they liked the action.

So where does
a middle-aged German dock worker

find disaffected youth?

His foreman said he came
back from lunch all hopped up.

Go down to the dock,
see who's dealing drugs.

Yeah, yeah, make my day.

Hands against the wall.

Dealer's roll.

Oh, we can confiscate that,
illegal proceeds.

If you take that
and leave me here,

slinky's gonna slice my ass.

Slinky?
The boss.

We got to make it up
if we get jacked.

You got to leave me a note
or something.

You know this guy?

German accent,
works on the docks.

If I know him,
do I get my roll back?

Maybe.

He likes to buy
a little blow,

not from me, though.

Him and mighty mouse
is friends.

Black dude,
works that corner over there.

I haven't seen him
in a couple of days.

He's been acting weird, anyway.

Weird how?

Saying we
got to throw off slinky,

that he's exploiting us.

We ain't getting
our fair share.

We got to organize.

Drug dealers
of the world unite.

Throw off
the chains of oppression.

Yeah, like that.

I don't buy it, though.

I believe
in the free market system.

Yeah, it's me.

Can you help me
with a street name?

"Mighty mouse."

Found him in the river.

No I.D.
Prints came back Mel Simeon.

Aka mighty mouse.

Yeah, if you say so.

You're his first visitors.

Strangled.

Ligature marks tell me
an electrical cord,

something like that.

No damage to his fingers.

The killer was strong,
and it happened so fast,

he didn't even have a chance
to put his hands up.

Anything else?

He had a taco for lunch.

When I was a boy...

Herr Klemstein
ran the neighborhood store.

One day he caught me stealing
a sausage roll.

He rapped my knuckles
with his cane so hard.

I cried so much.

Later on,
the newspaper reported

that Herr Klemstein
had been a Nazi,

a guard at Belsen.

He helped to murder
over 50,000 people--

men, women, and children.

The corruption
was so deep, so vile.

And I stole a sausage roll.

It's still not straight.

[Explosion]

Their second communique
is already on the news.

"Down with the pig system,"
blah, blah, blah.

No dead, only injured
was the security guard.

He was cut by flying glass.

Manhattan commerce bank...

Another bailout recipient.

Or bloodsucker,
if you prefer.

Looks like
another urea bomb.

Ah, I guess
everything's not under control.

We're stepping up
our monitoring

of the purchase
of bomb-making material,

checking red light
and ATM cameras

within a half-mile radius,

pulling the VIN number
off what's left of that car.

If you have
any other suggestions--

have the FBI attache
in our embassy in Berlin

get a list
of Baader-Meinhof members

still at large
from the German federal police.

Ask for captain Berger.

Why not?

Ah! Aah!
Oh!

Oh, my god!
Oh, jeez.

God, you are beautiful.

Mmm.

Mmm.
You are just...

Do you want some more of this?

I just need to go
to the bathroom.

Mmm.

It's right down on the left.
You can't miss it.

[Sighs]
[Giggling]

Oh, hi.

Who are you?

Uh, sweetheart.

[Groans]

I didn't, uh--

I didn't expect you
back so soon.

Look, if I’m
in the middle of something--

no, no, no.
It's fine.

So you've been, uh, shopping?

So what did you get?

God, I love these.
Thank you.

These are incredible.
Try one.

I...have to go.

I'm just gonna grab my things.

[Sighs]

Our letter to the times.
-Uh-huh?

Did your friend see this?

No, of course not.
The computer is sleeping.

Besides, we are
in the other room.

What are you doing?

We are in the middle
of something now.

We are leading a movement.

What is the purpose
of revolution, huh?

For the people to be free.
And this is what free people do.

It's all right.

Rose, you've got to try this.

These are so good.

Try one.

From Germany...

Captain Berger says, "hi."
Oh, excellent.

Seven former Baader-Meinhof
members unaccounted for.

All right.
Very good.

I would eliminate a few women.

All right, three women--
I would eliminate them.

All right, here's the picture
of John Kaldner.

You tell me,
which of these four?

Him.
Yeah, that's right.

Axel Kaspers,

former technik student,
engineering student.

His girlfriend got him
involved in Baader-Meinhof.

[Speaking German]

Oh, she committed suicide
in prison.

He did funf years--
five years for bank raub.

Five years for bank robbery--
paroled in 1985,

then joined some other
ragtag members of the gang

for a final spree.

Uh, they firebombed a house

of an industrialist
named Fichte,

killing him, his wife,
and their infant daughter.

One of his colleagues
who was caught

swore they thought
the house was empty.

And Axel Kaspers?

Vanished.

Big load?

How much are you gonna be
bleaching, honey?

It's for
my aunt's beauty shop.

Do you take visa?

Mm-hmm.

A woman in Manhattan
bought hydrogen peroxide,

acetone, and muriatic acid
in three different stores,

all this morning.

Rang a bell in our computers.

Hydrogen peroxide,
that's hair bleach.

That's one of its uses.

Muriatic acid
is used to clean brick.

Acetone
is nail Polish remover.

Mix them together, and
you have triacetone peroxide...

If you can manage to do it
without killing yourself.

An improvised high explosive.

So unless this woman

was planning to bleach her hair
and remove her nail Polish

while she's cleaning bricks--

she's building
one hell of a bomb.

She also got some
miscellaneous wires, timers...

Was--was this someone
you were already monitoring?

No.

Data mining bots trawl through
credit card transactions.

Whose credit card
transactions?

Everyone's credit card
transactions.

You didn't hear that from me.

Thank you, dick Cheney.

What's the woman's name?

Rosalyn Griggs.

534 east 89th street.

Her wallet,
missing the credit card.

None of those chemicals
is in the apartment.

Yeah, because
she didn't buy them.

We're a step behind, again.

There's a neighbor
we should talk to.

This is Ms. Morgan.

She was with Ms. Griggs
last night.

She just got a part
on a soap.

We went to a bar to celebrate,
and Rosie met a guy.

I didn't like
the way he looked.

Him?

Yes.
Who is he?

Mm, did you get his name?
Do you know where he lived?

He didn't say.
But she was celebrating.

She left with him.

"The one you love
is closer than you think."

It's from a fortune cookie--

Asiatic gardens
on the lower east side.

Did Rosie ever eat there?

Why would she?
Way downtown?

Maybe she and her new friend
got hungry.

I thought
something happened.

I stopped for lunch.

Lunch?
[Chuckles]

Well, next time, maybe call?

I was worried.

Oh, you got everything.

Everything.
Great.

How did you pay
for all of it?

I used your friend
Rosie's credit card.

She gave it to you?

No, I took it...

After I killed her.

You killed her?

She was a danger to us.

No loose ends, right?

My god.
She didn't know anything.

We couldn't be sure of that.

You talk too much
when you're high.

She was just a lonely woman.

This is not what we are about!

A revolution
is not a dinner party.

You taught me, I was listening.

Yeah!

And you are listening
when I said

that I make
the technical decisions?

With her, you weren't thinking
with your head.

Oh, and you are?

There's a-a body.
You might have been seen.

This could be traced to you.

I am the one
with the experience. Huh?

I am the one
to make these calculations.

Do you understand this?

Yes, I do.

Good!

[Scoffs]

All right, we'll make something
the pigs will never forget.

Yeah.

No, he was not here
last night.

She was not here.

Yeah, but this is from one
of your fortune cookies.

Yes...

Maybe they got a delivery.
Even better.

Do you have the addresses
for last night's deliveries?

Oh, this looks like
at least 50.

It's good food.

Shelley Smith
told her co-worker

that noise from a bar
kept her awake at night.

Mm, these can't all be
next to bars.

Mm-hmm.

What do you want for dinner?

I don't care.

Steak.

Steak?

Wine?
A cote du Rhone?

Folmer's
has the best selection.

Oh, I'll get it.

See you at home.

[Chuckles]

I don't know, maybe
they are all next to bars.

Not this one, either.

Clear.

What's next?

Harrison, 693 east 9th.

Here's your change.
Thanks.

I don't care
whose mother she is, sweetie,

she's not moving into our--
you know, she can sleep

in a tent in central park,
for all I care.

[Yells out]

Excuse me, can I--
can I use your bathroom?

It's in the back, right?

Don't even breathe.

No girl, no chemicals.

She's out there
with a bomb.

Where is she, Kaspers?

I do not recognize
your authority.

What gives you the authority?
What gives you the right?

The people.
Have you seen the streets?

Have you heard
what the people are saying?

I've seen a dead black kid
and a pathetic dead woman,

who's only mistakes
were listening to you.

That's what the people are gonna
be talking about tomorrow.

Mm, this is
greater than them.

This is bigger than all of us.

Except it's not bigger
than you, is it?

This is all about you,
isn't it?

I'm just an agent of change.

You are
"a reckless adventurer

playing into the hands of
the existing oppressive order."

Chairman Mao.
I'll lend you my copy.

How's it going?

Nichols is in there with him.

They're discussing
a little red book.

What have you got?
Personal stuff.

Anything from the apartment
that might give us leverage.

Bathroom break--
for me, not him.

What is this?

Teddy bear.
From the apartment.

Made in Hamburg.

She kills for the revolution,
but keeps her Teddy bear.

It's singed.
A burn Mark.

Maybe she started
blowing things up young.

This was
on her bedside table--

the wretched of the earth.

"To my darling Birgit.
Mayday 1996."

1996? She would've been,
what, 12?

The guy's a pedophile too?

They have separate bedrooms.

She's your daughter.

You don't exactly win
"father of the century."

The wretched of the earth.

Was the bookstore
out of Charlotte's web?

Do you know that book?

Can anyone know that book

without being moved
to take pity?

To take action?
Yeah.

I never step
on spiders anymore.

Mm, she's out there
with a bomb, your daughter.

The one who played with this.

Does she know what she's doing?

She's fighting exploitation.

Is she safe?

In case this helps,
immigration just dug this up.

Kasper and the little girl
came into the country in 1986,

using the passports
of the family

he and his pals
had firebombed the year before.

Karl and Marta Fichte, age two,

entered the country
on tourist visas and never left.

So they entered the U.S.
after they were dead?

No one was
cross-checking back then.

Let me see
that whole Fichte file?

Please.

[Man shouting]

Kasper's daughter
just took a dozen hostages

at the Continental Bankcorp,
wall street branch.

She says if we don't put
her father on a plane to Cuba,

she'll blow up the building
and everyone in it.

Captain Ross,
detectives Nichols and Eames,

special agent Reynolds of our
New York field office SWAT.

He's gonna bring you up to date
on everything that's gone on.

See what we know so far.

There's your subject,
Birgit Kaspers.

Now, she shot out

every surveillance camera
she could see,

but she couldn't see the two
that we tapped in here.

That's a Tec-9
with a 40-round magazine

in her right hand.

She says that thing hanging
from her neck is a tilt switch.

Now, it's connected
to a transmitter there--

probably from a toy car--

that she says will set off
a bomb in that backpack.

Wait, wait.
A tilt switch?

As long as it stays level,
it doesn't complete a circuit.

But if it tilts, it blows.

Like if
someone knocks her down.

Or shoots her.

And who might shoot her?

I have a sniper in place.

He's acquired the target.

But the tilt switch?

Exactly.

Somebody should really
go in there and talk to her.

She says if anyone goes in...

I'm not talking
about just anybody.

[Beeping]

Hello.

Stay out.

Nobody comes in.

What are you doing here?

Stay back.

He's supposed to be on a plane.

We're working on that.

But in the meantime,
I thought we should talk,

just, uh--just talk.

Nichols, you need to get
close enough

to catch her when she falls.

Uh-huh.
Just...talk.

You don't want to blow that bomb
with your father here.

That would defeat the purpose,
wouldn't it?

Get him out of here.

Or what?
You'll kill us all?

We're willing to die.

The sniper is behind the vent
over her left shoulder.

Stay out of the line of fire.

We're willing,
but they're not.

That's why
this is gonna work...

To save you,
so you can lead the struggle.

If you stop now,
you might catch a break.

You're a victim too.

We're all victims.

Nobody catches a break.

You were brainwashed
your entire life.

I've been educated
by my father.

He's not your father.

Don't be stupid.

Take him and go.

Kaspers, tell her who she is.

What the hell
is he talking about?

He's not your father,
he murdered your father...

And your mother.

What did he tell you
about your mother?

She's dead.

Well, you should know...

He should know.

Look, this is
from the German press.

"Axel Kaspers and two friends
firebombed the home of a banker,

"named Karl Fichte,
and his wife, Rosalie...

And their daughter, Marta."
Stay back.

"The entire family
is presumed killed,

"but the remains of Marta,
who was one year old,

were never
separately identified."

Look at the family photo
of the Fichtes.

Look at the bear
that Marta is holding.

Does that look familiar?

Same bear,
do you see the burn marks?

Does that look familiar?

You snatched her out of
the fire, didn't you, Kaspers?

A little girl and her bear.

It was the one decent thing
that you ever did.

He's trying to confuse you.

He was in prison for five
years before you were born.

His girlfriend
committed suicide

three years
before you were born.

When were you conceived?

Who gave birth to you?
Just do the math.

He brought you into this country
with Marta Fichte's passport.

It was a perfect fit.

Marta, he killed your parents
and brainwashed you.

You are my daughter.

Birgit, you are.

Do you really want to die
for the man

who destroyed your family
and stole your life?

Even if it's true,

my father was a banker,
he deserved to die.

If he were alive right now,
I'd kill him myself.

That stupid bear--

I haven't even seen it
since I was a little girl.

Oh, you didn't save it.

You did.

She is your daughter.

She wasn't, but now she is.

Yes, of course.

Of course she is.

You carried her crying
from that burning house.

You saw her first steps.
You heard her first words.

And now because of you,
she's gonna die.

Yeah, no way out of here.

Nobody's getting
on a plane to Cuba.

Sweetheart...

So we die.

We become martyrs.

Like Baader, like Meinhof,
like--like Che.

No.

No.

I'm a revolutionary.

Yes, but not like this.
These are not the bosses.

These are 12 people in a bank.

A few must suffer
to save the many.

That--that's
what you always told me.

But I think
this is not the time.

He's still
in the line of fire.

He's trying to save her.

This country,
it isn't ready for this.

Yesterday
you said it was ripe.

What--you're lying!
You're just trying to save me.

Yes, I am.

I am, because
you matter to me more.

Than the revolution?

Than everything
you've ever said to me?

Yes.

It's just words, words.

I think the world is right.

I think that there are things

that are more important.

Please...

Don't do this, huh?

All right?

Please. Huh?

Papa.

[Gunshot]
Oh!

No!

No! No!

That's why I never had kids.

Empty vessels
that daddy fills

with love,
compassion, empathy...

'Cause you get a-a me...
Or a him.

Oops.