What's going on?
Abel? Abel.
Abel, honey.
Abel!
Help, please! Help!
Help, please!
Please, Abel. Stay with me.
Compressions, hard and fast.
One milligram of adrenaline.
-One mil administered. -Up the fluids.
No!
Breaking news from Hospital General de Madrid.
Abel García Turrión has died.
The officer was brutally attacked last Wednesday at the Bernabéu.
Police are now questioning the alleged attacker.
Very sad, devastating news.
Our hearts go out to the family, friends, and acquaintances of Abel García Turrión.
It's sad our beloved sport is being ruined by the same people.
Let's hope the young man they arrested will feel the full force of the law.
I don't want payback. I want justice.
What kind of "patriot" goes after one of our own,
a Spanish police officer?
…online, two days before the return of the Champions League in Marseille.
The public's already taking action online to organize protests across the city,
demanding that those guilty face the consequences.
García Turrión was 37 and leaves behind a six-year-old daughter.
The officer passed away early this morning
from burns sustained from a Molotov cocktail.
The attack happened just over a week ago, when chaos broke out
between supporters from both sides during the opening of the Champions League
The other three victims are in stable condition
and expected to survive.
His wife expressed gratitude for the show of support
from the authorities and the National Police Corps
but has stated she intends to hold…
Did you see the news?
How could I not? It's everywhere.
This is going to cause trouble.
Why? Tibu already took the fall for it.
You and I both know it wasn't him.
There's no evidence against him.
He won't go down alone if he can help it.
He could rat us out over the missing businessman.
Let me know if you find anything out.
You got it.
-Think of something. -Will do.
What are you waiting for? Get me out of here.
You don't need to worry. Trust me, all right?
The Arabs are gonna get this pinned on them, I guarantee it.
Good. Then make sure it happens and fast.
Yeah, but take it easy for now.
All in good time, all right?
You'll be out before you know it.
Come on. You got this, Tibu.
You're the man.
Go.
ALCOHOL-FREE GROUP
I've had a really rough few days.
Really damn hard.
And even though I felt like I'd been stabbed in the back
by people I thought were friends,
I've received support from total strangers.
And I haven't felt alone.
Honestly, without them, I couldn't have made it through.
Because, believe me, I've wanted to drink.
In fact, I have more reasons than ever to.
And I think anyone in my shoes
would want to join our club.
Back when I was practicing medicine, I spent my time
feeling the sweat, the tears,
the patients' heartbeats in my hands…
I let myself get lost in it.
And I was good. Really good.
It was like the fear I experienced in every operation
made me feel alive.
It made me feel like I was really great at something.
But outside the hospital,
I felt like a failure.
I felt like I wasn't…
I wasn't capable, that I was a screwup, that I…
I wished I could face everyday problems
with that same… fire and passion.
With that drive for excellence I had in the OR.
But I just couldn't. I couldn't.
I didn't know how.
I didn't have it in me.
I messed everything up.
I messed everything up, sweetheart.
But this… I'm gonna get right.
POLICE OFFICER ABEL GARCÍA TURRIÓN DEAD
Hi, Manuel.
How's it going?
Hi.
It's me, Salvador.
Salvador?
Your son-in-law. Milena's dad.
My son-in-law. Have a seat.
Have a seat.
-How's it going? -You're the dad of…?
-Milena. -Milena!
What's she up to?
How is Milena?
She's doing well.
-She's fine. -Yeah?
-She's studying fine arts. -Fine arts?
Yeah.
I wanted her to be a doctor, but she became an artist like her mom.
-Cristina, your daughter. Remember? -Cristina…
My little girl, of course!
Cristina. Yes.
-Yeah. -Yes.
Cristina says Milena doesn't want to be a doctor
because she won't listen to my advice.
I tell her doctors are kind of artists in our own way.
-Sure. -Wow!
You've got company today, Manuel.
He's my son-in-law.
Have you met my son-in-law?
He's educated. Yeah.
He really knows his stuff.
-Is that so? -Yeah.
What does he know so much about?
No, well…
I used to be a doc…
I'm a doctor.
Oh, that's nice.
Take these meds for me, and I'll get out your way.
There you go.
Very good.
Good.
Excuse me.
And…
Milena? What's Milena up to?
How's she doing?
She's studying fine arts.
-Fine arts? -Yeah.
-She's really good. -Yeah?
-She's just as stubborn as her mom. -Yeah.
Cristina. Remember?
Yeah, of course. My little girl.
Yeah.
Are you lost?
No. I was just in the neighborhood.
What can I get you? Whiskey?
I got Black Label. Red Label too.
No, I don't drink.
Water.
Can I ask you something?
Shoot.
Why are you in this place?
What's wrong with it?
This probably isn't the best for you.
Right.
And why are you here? If you don't mind me asking.
A left-wing ex-alcoholic
in a bar full of booze and far-right ultras.
I mean…
You've got a point.
You know your issue?
You're all the same.
You think people like us are trash.
But I don't care. Deep down, you envy us.
What's wrong with being part of something?
What do your folks think?
No clue. We haven't spoken in years.
This is my family.
It's a welcome gift.
The water, I mean.
Okay. Go ahead.
How are you doing?
I don't know.
I don't know what to tell you.
Have you seen Toni?
There he is.
So? Where have you been?
-Sorry. I got stuck in traffic, and… -All right.
It's fine. Let's get going.
We want justice!
What's this about?
It's about the cop. He died.
We want justice!
WHO PROTECTS US?
REST IN PEACE
Salva.
Salva!
Alpha 25, code 15 at 3 Alcalá Street.
Salva, you haven't been drinking, right?
How could I? I've been stuck with you all day.
Copy that. On our way.
Easy.
FIREFIGHTERS UNITED
Okay. Take this.
One, two, three…
Pull!
Careful.
Okay. I'm bringing the spinal board over.
Here you go.
We got it.
Let's go.
Quick, all right, guys?
How's she doing?
Come on. Down now. Let's go.
Okay, the other one. Come on.
-It's here. -Come on.
-Let's get her up. -Let's go.
-All right. -Here. Okay. Let's go.
-This way. -Head.
-We've got her? -Yeah.
One, two, three.
-All set. -Okay. Let's lift.
-Got it? -Yeah.
-All right. -Up.
-There. -All right.
Okay.
Low alertness. She's struggling to breathe.
Salva, let me do this. Really.
-Toni, mask, oxygen. -Got it.
Salva, she's losing blood fast.
-What? -She's losing blood.
-Let's pack it. -Let me see… Okay.
Open fracture of both femurs.
Head trauma, facial injuries.
Closed fracture of the right forearm.
-Let's go. -Okay.
Administer a dose of fentanyl.
Toni, administer a dose of fentanyl.
-Salva. -A dose of fentanyl, please.
-I'm the doctor here. -Why is it always a battle with you?
Why is it a battle with you?
I'm fed up with you not trusting me, okay?
Fed up!
How can I trust you? You're not well.
-Salva. -Back off.
Please move aside.
-Salva. -Stop.
-Salva, get out! -I'm a doctor too!
Not anymore.
Her abdomen is really hard.
-Marjane. -We need to increase blood volume.
-Okay. -By a lot.
All right.
The venous access isn't viable.
-Okay, intraosseous drill. -The drill, yeah.
Okay. Painkiller, sedation, and intubation.
Okay.
Ready.
Okay.
Oxygen and blood pressure levels are improving. She's stable.
Hell yeah.
-Come on, damn it. -Send a trauma alert and let's go.
I'll leave you to it.
That's enough, Salva.
Go on. They're leaving.
Go on!
Let's go.
THE INVINCIBLE HOMELAND
MOUNTED OFFICER ABEL GARCÍA TURRIÓN DEAD
Hello, miss.
Look at the camera.
Milena. Look over here.
Hi! What's your name?
What's your name?
-Milena Aguirre. -Milena Aguirre. Great job!
-What are you building? -A castle.
A castle. And does it have a moat?
Look, a seagull!
It's gone now.
Yeah. All right. Come here.
I love you so much, darling.
Yeah?
Got any plans?
-What are we doing here? -Dumping a body.
Don't be impatient, quack.
I mean it. Come on.
Come here.
LOVE MADRID
We'll take it to Marseille, so everyone will know who Milena was.
And we're gonna make the towel head pay.
Sound good?
She'll get the tribute she deserves.
-Thank you so much. -Don't thank me.
-It was Carla's idea. -I mean…
See? We're like family.
I have no words.
Thank you so much.
Come on.
-Who wants a beer? -Come on, let's get a beer.
I don't mess with that. Sorry.
Thank you. I mean it. Thanks.
Come on. I'll walk you out.
I bet the first time you came, you didn't think you'd be back.
-I honestly didn't. -Yet here you are.
Listen…
Honestly, I'm grateful. Really.
But, well, I still think what you do isn't…
Never mind.
It doesn't matter. You know what I think.
No. Not about everything.
I don't know what you think of me as a woman.
This is what I think.
You want a beer?
Here, brother. Cool off.
You're late.
-What did I say about that damn salute? -What salute?
I'm showing you how tall my daughter is. Look, about this tall.
No way. She's taller than that.
She keeps growing, and you don't even see her.
Why did you want me to come here?
I'm starting to think you like me.
You kind of look like a lesbo.
You're not into me, right?
No, Julia. I'm not into you.
-You know what I want. -Damn, seriously. Don't you ever quit?
I don't know. Get a life, woman. Take a class. Or read a book.
Besides, without a drink, I can't--
Yeah, let's see if you remember you're a neo-Nazi.
With a hell of a criminal record.
First, don't call us Nazis because it pisses us off.
-Really? -Yeah. You should know.
Second, I don't have anything new.
Nothing at all?
If I start thinking, maybe I'll come up with something.
Yeah, I got something.
Still, I'm not sure if this…
Last night I trimmed my toenails.
-Hey, can I get the check? -I'm joking, Martín.
It's tiring, Julia. Seriously. I'm getting tired.
You got anything or not?
Salvador came to the bar today.
-What did he want? -The same as always.
Asking why I'm with the White Souls. Same as you.
Good. Maybe he practices what he preaches.
Okay, what else? You're on a roll.
Yeah, but…
That's all you got?
That's bullshit, Julia.
Okay, yeah.
We're off to Arab land. To get the towel head.
The towel head?
Yeah, damn it. That Arab from Marseille.
And the quack's coming too.
Salvador?
Salvador.
You sure?
You want a beer?
In this footage, we can see the violent attack
on the cavalry officer who recently died.
Jorge Hidalgo Extremera, the suspect in the case,
is still in police custody, awaiting charges.
Let's go live to our reporter Rebeca Lobato at Barajas Airport,
with news from French officials.
Thanks, María. The French authorities
have banned Spanish fans from attending tonight's game,
not only inside the stadium, but also in the surrounding area.
If they do not respect this ban,
they could be met with fines up to €30,000 and six months in jail.
Many fans found this out when they got to the airport.
A heated discussion has erupted online in the past few hours
about who killed Abel García because…
I'll get it.
-Hi. -Hi.
-Is Salvador here? -Yeah, come in.
Thanks.
Salva.
I know you're in there.
Talk to me.
I'm really sorry about the other night.
I didn't mean to say those things.
You know we get worked up sometimes.
You're a doctor. You've seen it before so many times.
Our pain clouds our judgment and…
it makes us act in weird ways.
Salva…
I brought you some food. You're not alone, Salva.
-Yeah? -Where are you, quack?
At home.
You're not coming?
They just said we've been banned--
You think I care what the French, Spanish, or English minister says?
You think we'd chicken out?
We're waiting on you at the bar.
We need a sober driver. It's not because it's you.
Hail Spain.
Marseillais, Arab scum!
Get on your feet, or you're a fucking Arab!
Let's go!
Get on your feet, or you're a fucking Arab!
Marseillais, Arab scum!
This is all my marriage was good for. Watch!
My girl left me 'cause I missed her brother's wedding.
-You lost your mind. -There was a game. That's sacred.
-A preseason friendly. -Preseason, my ass!
We're Madrid fans!
Hey, motherfuckers!
Nazi scum! Sons of bitches!
-Bastards! -Look at these scumbags.
-Sons of bitches! Fuckers! -Bastard!
-What's your problem? -What?
Come here, fucker.
Fuck off, you bastards!
Fascists! Sons of bitches!
Hey! You bastards! Hey!
Sons of bitches! Goddamn Nazis!
Damn Nazis!
Hey, motherfuckers!
-We're gonna kill you, bastards! -Throw that at me!
You damn pussy!
Sons of bitches! Hey!
You pussy!
Nazi scum!
-Come on! -You're going to fall.
-Sons of bitches! -Dumbfuck!
That's what he gets.
Kind of a bumpy ride, don't you think?
You're the best. Nice job.
-Way to go, quack. -Way to go.
The quack!
SCHOOL BUS
-What's up, man? -What's up?
Passengers of the flight to Marseille
can board at gate C-42.
Watch out.
How did they know we'd be here?
There! It's the towel head!
Hey!
-Visors! -Hey!
-Run! -Hey!
-Over here! -Hey!
Hey! Easy. Judiciary police.
Hey!
-Bastards! -Stop!
Run!
-Run! -Let's go!
Move!
Out of the way!
Come here, pussy.
Stop!
That son of a bitch killed my daughter!
You've got the wrong guy!
Come here. I can't understand you, bastard!
Come here.
Son of a bitch!
Bastard.
Let go, bastard.
Move. Out of the way!
-Get out of the way! -Out of the way!
Move it!
-Come here! -Stay right there!
-Why are you protecting him? -What's wrong with you? What do you want?
We'll arrest you!
-Come with me. -Why are you protecting him?
Stop, you're hurting me!
Let go, you pussy!
Scum! Filthy murderer!
Anytime.
Son of a bitch! I'll kill you! I swear.
Whenever you want.
Always protecting the same people. You should be ashamed!
Son of a bitch.
Don't worry. In two hours, we'll be out.
I want to apologize for everything that's happened, man.
Those lunatics are really dangerous. I've got to get out of Spain soon.
-Don't worry. -To protect myself.
-Right. -Hey.
-What the hell is going on here? -Please have a seat.
Please have a seat.
Fucking unbelievable.
Can you tell me why you were going to Marseille?
To look for my daughter's killer.
Why? To beat him up?
No.
-To kill him? -No!
Then what?
To talk.
Talk?
Well, you didn't exactly go with the best travel companions.
I warned you. They're dangerous.
And yet you keep pushing.
You don't get it.
I need to know who killed my daughter.
And I'll find out, with or without you.
Look, Salvador.
Your heroism has a limit, and that's jail.
Real life isn't like the movies.
And especially not with police.
We don't tolerate bullshit, you understand me?
And believe it or not, we're doing our job.
And we need you to just get out of our way for once.
We're doing you a favor by holding you here. Believe me.
And why should I believe you?
Mr. Aguirre, I'm explaining it to you.
You want to join the White Souls? Go ahead, stick with them.
Go with them!
But, they were about to kill an innocent man.
A police officer, to be exact.
A police officer?
An undercover cop among the French extremists.
Remember the beating?
You treated him.
-Do you remember? -Yes.
Well, he wasn't involved in your daughter's death.
Is that clear?
Who killed my daughter, then?
We're still investigating.
I can't confirm anything yet.
All I can say is these people use the brawls
to get rid of moles and traitors
and then pin the blame on their rivals.
I don't understand. You're saying my daughter was a mole?
Martín.
An informant? Or what?
Mr. Aguirre.
This is my final warning.
Next time, you will be arrested.
That's right. A tough one for Madrid.
Not just because of the opponent, but the atmosphere too.
Half-empty stands in Marseille and no Madrid fans.
Everything okay?
The players are now on the field,
ready to observe a minute of silence in memory of Abel García Turrión,
the police officer who died in Spain.
They didn't hold a minute of silence for my husband.
Or for your daughter.
I'd rather go back alone.
Let's go!
Hi, Rosa.
I'm Alejandro Dorado, lawyer and friend of the force.
We met at the hospital.
Do you remember?
I just wanted to tell you
that we all deeply regret the death of your husband.
Thank you very much.
Sorry I don't remember you. It's just…
I've seen so many people at the hospital that I don't…
That's understandable. Don't worry.
But if it weren't important, I wouldn't have come to bother you.
Yeah, of course. Come in.
-If you don't mind. -Yes, please, sit down.
Would you like a drink, or…?
No, it's okay.
Thanks.
I wanted to…
I wanted to say to you on behalf of my clients that…
they are eager to help both you and your daughter
with the inevitable expenses
that this unfortunate situation will bring you.
Expenses?
Yes, I mean,
the mortgage payments, supporting your daughter…
Basically…
Life.
My clients wish to cover those expenses.
They are very kind.
We just need you to accept.
Thank you.
Look…
My clients have been unfairly accused
as perpetrators in this tragedy, and although they are not,
they want to make amends as much as possible.
Accused? Sorry. I didn't know.
I don't know.
It's been a very difficult few days.
Sorry, excuse me.
I know. Yes.
Do you remember that you told me
that Abel said that the Molotov cocktail was thrown
by some… Arabs.
French Arabs?
I said that?
Yes, Abel told you that before going into a coma.
I don't remember.
It's okay.
We just need you to…
to condemn the violence of the French fans against your husband.
To condemn that attack and denounce the violence.
Of course, I don't want violence.
Of course not. Never.
The attack by the Arab fans against Abel cannot go unpunished.
-"Arab"? -Yes, Arab.
Come on, you just told me yourself.
You should tell the press too. Let people know.
Tell them, and my clients will fully cover your expenses.
Rosa.
We're here for you. For whatever you need.
Thank you.
For Abel,
for the force,
and for Spain.
Subtitle translation by: Meredith Cannella