I need a day in London, then I'll get a flight to Istanbul.
I would like my name to be Imogen.
Why is there a military uniform inside the camp?
That soldier's there for the protection of a French woman.
Well, she says her name's Adilah El Idrissi.
One of the Yazidis recognized her from Raqqa.
Daesh!
If that woman's who they say she is, she's a murdering bitch.
Women, children and babies.
Adilah. I think I might be able to help you.
Help me with what?
Help you with staying alive.
- They hate me. - Do you deserve to be hated?
Daesh!
Run.
An informant for Syrian intelligence reported
that a high level female ISIS commander is part of a breakaway ISIS cell.
Planning a large scale attack on an unknown Western target.
Sometime seven to ten days from now.
The Americans are arriving at the refugee camp tomorrow morning,
I'm sure with typical American fanfare.
To look for the target's DNA.
They have sent this man to Paris.
Max Peterson.
Welcome to France. I hate France.
Why are the DGSE allowing the Genie of Raqqa
to roam free and unrestricted
across the territory of a NATO ally with only your girlfriend for company?
How does a mother leave her daughter behind?
Do you have children?
No.
Explain to me why the beautiful daughter of intellectuals and communists would
join that ugly, brutal circus.
I would like to live long enough to find out why.
You should know that I have absolutely zero idea what comes next.
Alert! Please stay in your tents.
Hey, what is happening here?
We're only interested in one woman who was at this camp until yesterday.
A woman who called herself Adilah El Idrissi.
What exactly is it you're looking for?
Is this the tent where she was held in isolation?
It certainly is.
- How long was she inside this tent? - One night.
There was a fight.
Some of the women recognized her from Raqqa.
Said she was an ISIS commander.
She was stabbed.
Okay. Target received blood cuts in this environment.
Seal it off and put everything into bags.
I miss mommy. Is she going to come home soon?
I'm sure she'll call soon, but I know she misses you very much.
We don't have a lot of time Yasmina. We'll have to choose quickly.
I will. I want to get the cakes mama likes.
Of course, yes.
Yasmina. Hello.
Hello. How are you?
Off to school?
- Yes. - What can I get you today?
Mmm.
Three macarons.
Three macarons, yes? - Yes.
Superb.
I was about to make a mistake, you see.
There you are, my dear.
- Have a very good day, my darling. - Thank you! Goodbye!
- Okay. - And you, what do you want?
- Three puffs please. - Three puffs.
Auntie!
Yasmina! Yasmina!
Yasmina!
Help me! They have taken my little girl!
Yasmina!
Yasmina.
Auntie!
- Auntie! Yasmina.
What did they do to you?
They pulled out some of my hair.
And now, my darling Violet,
it's time for today to say goodbye to the land of Illyria.
Silly girl.
Good.
I can't believe you're still mad at me.
Yes, I am.
And over something so stupid.
I need my injection.
You've seen me do it so many times.
It's really very simple.
Okay. I will do it myself.
No, I'll do it.
No. No. As you said, it's really very simple.
Please don't do it just to prove a fucking point.
Give it to me.
- Give it to me. - No.
Give it to me.
No.
You're a fucking child.
Let go. Let go. Let go.
You just like hurting me, don't you?
As a matter of fact, I do, yes.
Show me your wound.
No. You're not a doctor.
They spent the night away from any main roads.
They are avoiding toll roads or anywhere with security cameras.
They are in the middle of nowhere.
She's clearly abandoned the directive to take the target to Edip Köyü
and is headed to Istanbul.
You know, when we get back on the road, you can drive.
There's no traffic. Even you can't kill us.
Fuck.
I couldn't pee. The fucking shepherd is still up there.
Fuck, this is horrible.
So you regret deciding to help me.
How can anyone disapprove of belly dancing?
How can you care so much about my opinion on belly dancing?
I don't care "so much."
And I don't regret deciding to help you.
Yeah. Out of gratitude or admiration or something,
at least you could just agree with me about the stupid little things
- that I have a strong opinion about. - Okay.
For my sanity, you are right about everything until we reach Istanbul.
- Until we reach Paris. - No, until we reach the French border.
You are absolutely right about everything until we cross the French border.
Fine.
"The belly dance was originally a sacred ritual performed by women for women.
It celebrated childbirth and prepared the woman for the birth process."
I didn't say I disapproved.
I said it's another Western corruption of Eastern traditions.
I actually took classes.
Please, you shut up about it.
Adilah...
When were you radicalized?
Did you say that word?
How much do you really know about religion at all?
'Cause when I was in Syria, I found out
- a lot of radicalized Europeans... - That word again.
...they didn't have much knowledge of religion,
and you're not religious because your family were communists.
Only my grandfather.
Well, some women went to Syria to find a husband.
Was it a man?
No, it was not a man.
Everyone always thinks that, but they're wrong.
It's the older women that recruit the girls,
and they know what to say.
The woman who took me in told me that I could have a more pure life with God,
away from the corruption of the West.
For the first time, I felt like my life had meaning and a purpose.
You look all right driving a car. Normal.
Thank you.
But you're not, 'cause you're a murderer.
When you're joking, can you, uh, raise your hand or something?
All I did was shake my belly and my arse around to help me give birth,
but the murderer disapproves of that.
Please don't call me a murderer.
I'm right about everything until the French border.
No, you are like the bullies at school, hiding behind jokes.
You know, I can't go to the theater because, when the actors come on stage,
I have this terrible desire to stand up and shout "fuck."
In situations like this, for no reason at all,
I say the worst possible thing I can say.
You said you don't have children.
I don't. Can we please overtake this fucking truck?
I need a cigarette.
- Shit.
Hey.
What? Do you think I'm funny now?
You told me to fucking do it.
What? You gonna fight me?
I think I opened a stitch.
I don't mean to laugh at you.
You scared the shit out of me.
That is the number of a friend of mine in Paris.
He's a doctor.
We met at a camp together in Lebanon.
And he calls just to make sure I'm okay.
I think he might be in love with me.
At least I hope he is.
If you ever need a pen or a piece of paper or just want to use the phone, just ask.
Yeah.
Fuck.
This guy's in love with you.
Damn. Means I shall have to kill him.
I think they're looking for someone in particular.
I'm sick of this car.
Shall we walk?
What?
We've lost signal. She's off the grid again.
Shit!
This way. - But why?
Because I said so.
There. There, hide.
Where is she?
Piss off.
- Where is she? Here.
I told you to wait downstairs.
You never fucking listen to me.
Is that your way of saying thank you or something?
Thank you.
What is that?
Before entering the fray,
we are invited to sit quietly and contemplate a great work of art.
The Louvre lends us paintings.
"Entering the fray," huh?
You guys at DGSE have a union and a 35-hour work week. Am I right?
Does it help?
We have an appointment.
Mmm.
Nope. Not getting anything.
Just a woman with a really weird head.
I saw footage of the fight you two had at the airport.
It is going viral within the intelligence community.
I hear a Russian operative just happened to be there.
He made his own copy, and he's saving it for their Christmas party.
You both need to realize we are on the same side.
Our American friend put the life of a British agent,
who was on a covert assignment to the DGSE, in danger
by sending in the fucking cavalry on the streets of Istanbul.
And as a result,
our handler has destroyed our only means of locating and communicating with her.
Well, maybe someone would've contacted you guys,
but we are told by command not to try to reach French intelligence
between midday and 3:00 because they'll be at lunch.
Shall we swap stereotypes, or shall we swap information?
We know everything you know, and we know more than you know.
A target currently at large in Istanbul
has been identified by six witnesses in the camp as the Djinn Al Raqqa,
a woman of extreme interest to us
who we believe is a 15-year female veteran ISIS commander
by the name of Sabaine Al Kubaisi.
The only one who's capable of this kind of plot.
We know.
However, the target claims to be Adilah El Idrissi from Paris.
We have no record of anyone called Adilah El Idrissi
traveling to Syria from Paris.
The name doesn't show up on any of our lists of persons of interest.
Well, we have a different list. It's a longer list.
Sometimes we skip lunch.
Adilah Idrissi is real?
Yes. And she may have gotten mixed up with ISIS,
but she has limited intermittent activity.
She's not at the level of Sabaine Al Kubaisi.
Now, our intelligence also informs us that she left behind a daughter here in Paris
about a mile from this building, in fact.
Why did we not know this?
The girl is ten years old, attends school in Aulnay-sous-Bois.
So, guess what?
At 8:15 this morning, a ten-year-old girl was intercepted on her way to school.
Strands of her hair were taken.
Now, here's where you guys come in.
All I need you to do is analyze them.
If the DNA in the strands of hair
matches the DNA in the samples we took from the refugee camp this morning,
then his girlfriend was in the car with the little girl's mother
and her name is Adilah El Idrissi.
If the samples do not match, then the target's adopted Adilah's identity.
And your girlfriend is almost certainly with the most wanted woman in the world.
Now, you see?
No need for psychological bullshit, right?
No need for double agents and identity games.
Paintings with weird freaking heads.
Just straightforward, old-fashioned fuck-you American science.
Now, if you guys can get it done quickly and not at your usual pace of three weeks,
that would be helpful.
Seven to ten days is not that far away. We're in kind of a hurry.
Magritte?
They kidnapped a child on the streets of Paris,
and we didn't know about it?
I will have the hair analyzed and the results sent to the Americans.
I will call you at home and let you know the result.
I won't be at home. I work longer than my statutory 35 hours.
Either way, Malik,
the Englishwoman's unique abilities will now not be required.
Sorry, sorry.
This sitting is full. You will have to wait for the 7:00 sitting.
We're here to see Mr. Demir.
Mr. Demir isn't here.
This lady needs to get to Paris. I have $2000.
Mr. Demir no longer takes out the trash. Perhaps you should leave.
Don't touch me.
Ten thousand dollars.
10,000 US dollars.
Come.
Where the fuck did you get 10,000 US dollars?
Who the fuck is Mr. Demir?
He uses this place to issue fake documents.
- I want you to travel as a dancer. - And what kind of dancer am I?
A belly dancer, of course.
How long have you known her?
Oh, she's my friend. Known her for ages.
I want her to travel as a dancer and a singer.
She speaks English?
No. At the border, I will say she's part of a delegation of folk artists.
They closed the Galata Bridge today. They're looking for someone.
I don't want her fingerprints in here.
I'm not doing this shit anymore.
Got too serious.
Fucking Daesh made it too serious.
Where the fuck did she get money like this?
Her father is a wealthy man in Damascus. He gave her money to get to Paris.
He's paying me to help her.
Is she your lover?
We are not lovers. But she is my friend.
I thought you said she speaks no English.
Because the truth is, she speaks English very well.
But during the trip to Paris, she will keep her fucking mouth shut.
No, she will not.
$2,000 now,
8,000 when you give us the passport and papers.
For $10,000, you can also give me a clean mobile.
Yeah, I will take one too.
I've invented a name, date of birth, place of birth.
She's from the eastern region.
For this money, you better make the passport good.
I'm guessing you're in a hurry to get out of Istanbul, right?
We'll let you know when it's ready.
The Center's library.
- Please wait here. - Mm-hmm.
"O, it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound.
That breathes upon a bank of violets."
And now, my darling Vi,
it's time for today to say goodbye to the land of Illyria.
Silly girl.
They have my favorite book,
Kitab al-Bulhan-- The Book of Surprises--
from the 14th century.
I used to love looking at these pictures when I was a little girl.
It's beautiful.
My grandfather would read it to me.
It's about djinn and devils and shape-shifters.
There are seven djinn kings, right?
One for each day of the week.
They all have their own color.
They can change into anything, any animal.
Any person.
This djinn is the Red King of Tuesday. He was the one that scared me the most.
My grandfather said the djinn were gone forever...
but I still see him in my dreams.
So, is there a DNA match or not?
I gave you references, but not my own.
My presence will be reference enough.
Do you know what the fuck you're doing traveling with this woman?
So, you're a dancer, eh?
- Prove it. - She will absolutely not dance for you.
If you're caught, she'll be asked.
You have no right to ask her to--
The papers say you're a singer and a dancer.
Sing one of your songs.
Go on.
Thanks.
I have to be quick, Malik.
But what the fuck? Who the fuck closed the Galata Bridge?
Because you promised me I would be allowed to do my job.
There is no longer any need for you to do your job.
What are you talking about?
Using DNA evidence, the Americans--
the fucking Americans, not the DGSE nor the DGSI--
have proven beyond doubt
that the woman you are with really is Adilah El Idrissi.
She's a French Algerian from Paris and has a daughter here.
She's not Sabaine.
She's not the Djinn Al Raqqa.
She is a confused woman running home,
and she's of no interest to us or to the Americans.
So, you can catch your flight to Paris either with or without her.
Malik, you know
that that does not prove that Adilah is not the Djinn Al Raqqa.
The woman I am with is the ISIS commander we are looking for.
The woman I am with is the Djinn Al Raqqa...
and I will prove it.
So, now that we know your passport and papers are good,
we just stay on the bus to Sofia and catch a flight to Paris.
So, I can call my daughter and tell her.
Call whoever you want.
From now on, it's just me and you.
Be quick. Bus leaves in two minutes.
Mm-hmm.
I will be with you soon, I promise.
It's not long now.
Everything can begin again.
But I miss you, Mama. It's not fair!
♪ You said you were going out ♪
♪ But I heard you through the walls ♪
♪ I said, "Don't go far" ♪
♪ You had me searching for a reason But I was in the dark ♪
♪ You and me after You and me before ♪
♪ Time splits in two On both sides of the door ♪
♪ You and me after You and me before ♪
♪ Time splits in two On both sides of the door ♪
♪ What a waste for you To be pulled under the water ♪
♪ What a shame ♪
♪ What a waste for you To be pulled under the water ♪
♪ What a shame you can't hear me ♪
♪ I speak louder ♪
♪ Thought you could keep me in reserve ♪
♪ While you made up your mind ♪
♪ Could I hold myself back? ♪
♪ Well, you fed me a fable But I know the taste of lies ♪
♪ You and me after You and me before ♪
♪ It's done ♪
♪ Don't keep coming back for more ♪
♪ You and me after You and me before ♪
♪ It's done ♪
♪ Don't keep coming back for more ♪
♪ I speak louder, louder ♪
♪ I speak louder ♪
♪ I speak louder I speak louder ♪
♪ I speak louder, louder ♪
♪ I speak louder I speak louder ♪
♪ I speak louder ♪
♪ Hear me speak Hear me speak ♪