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MILAN 1945
LAST DAYS OF WAR
THIS IS TRUE HISTORY.
THIS STORY IS TRUE-ISH.
Down!
No, no, come on, come on, come on!
WHISPERS OF MEMORY
Were you followed?
I'm a professional. No.
Well, then, since you're a professional,
your appointments can be made by yourself. I'm not your secretary.
-The Partisans? -Confirmed the plan tonight.
Then what's this face for, huh?
-It's very dangerous. -Huh?
You're risking so much for what?
-I'm just-- -For what? For you.
For us. Pretty soon I'll have all money I need to get us both out of here.
Away from Borsalino and his boss.
Hail to Il Duce!
Do you trust me?
Fighters…
I trust you.
…of land, of sea…
-I've gotta go. It's late. -…and of air.
Listen…
-Maybe I'll come by the Cabiria. -Don't.
If Borsalino sees you, he'll have you hanged.
I'm a professional.
There is only one word! Only one word!
Conquer!
Duce! Duce! Duce! Duce!
You okay?
-The rest? -You'll see.
-Why do they call you Isola? -Because I work alone.
You're one of the few people running contraband in this town.
The only one.
It's a miracle the fascists haven't put you out of business yet, isn't it?
Well, I steal things. I don't spy.
Spies don't make enough dough anyway.
-We could use someone like you, Isola. -Oh, yeah?
And you've gotta find a few more friends.
Two-hundred pounds of TNT.
Five Stens, four Berettas, four Mausers, two Lugers and two crates of ammo.
I hereby confiscate these weapons
on behalf of the resistance and the people of Italy.
Don't take it personally, Isola. We're making history here.
No one is too smart for history. Not even you.
Have it your way.
Don't fuck with me!
Fascists?
-You told me you worked alone. -Well, I found a few friends.
-Like you said. -He's got nothing.
I like it.
Don't wanna count it?
Nah, I'm trusting.
Someone's coming!
Fascists! Fascists! Take cover! Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go!
-No! -Take cover!
Shit.
Kill them all for Il Duce!
Whoa!
Shoot them! Kill them all!
Come on!
Don't shoot! On the left!
Death to the fascist pigs!
No!
Oh!
-Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! -Shit, the loot!
Is the timing appropriate? Oh!
Stay down! Down!
Stay down, down, down, down! Stay down! Stay down!
ROBBING MUSSOLINI
CABIRIA THEATER
See you later.
"I'm sorry, Marcello. I lost the money, Marcello."
-"You saved my life, Marcello." -Hey. Please stop it, okay?
-Isola! -What?
I don't wanna end up hanged for a quickie, okay?
I can't promise anything.
Yvonne.
Yvonne's my name on stage.
Not in here.
How was it? Tell me everything.
I mean, good.
-Hmm. -Kiss?
Pietro. No. Pietro.
-Listen. -Pietro.
Oh, my God, you're so beautiful.
-Shh! Keep it down. -Listen.
-Miss Yvonne. -Oh, shit.
Yvonne!
One second.
I was changing.
Hurry up. Borsalino is waiting for you.
Did you know, professor,
an incandescent iron in the liver causes excruciating pain without being lethal?
Not immediately, at least.
The heat cauterizes the wound instantly,
without any of that pesky bleeding internal or external.
One man endured it for three whole days without losing consciousness.
All it takes is a basic knowledge of anatomy
and a bit of practice to identify the right spots.
Tell me who helped you print your Soviet pamphlets.
Hmm?
Secretary Borsalino.
She's here.
We'll just resume tomorrow, I guess.
Almost done?
Just about. You bring comics from the Americans?
-Only this. -The Corriere dei Piccoli?
If you don't like it, go and find something else.
Something I said?
Yes, Yvonne must have left him in the lurch.
Hello.
Achille, I just can't sleep without you.
I'm busy at the ministry. Take your sedative and go to bed.
-I'll see you tomorrow. -Aren't you finished with your whore yet?
Sleep well, Nora. Good night.
THE END
Sleep well, all right?
Just a minute.
Make sense of this, will you?
Another load of weapons?
This message is different than the others. Decipher it.
Give it a look at least.
-Good night, Marcello. -Good night.
Hey, Pietro. We don't have a penny left.
Not even for food, got it?
Marcello, I know.
Hmm.
Get Amedeo.
Amedeo. Amedeo.
Food's ready.
-Coming. -What are you doing?
Some work that Marcello asked me to take care of. That's all.
Hmm.
Nice girl! Haven't you kissed her yet?
Sorry about last night. I've been kind of an asshole to you.
I'm used to it by now.
We're not just a team. You know that, right?
We're a family.
You, me, Marcello. Yeah?
Come on.
Isola.
Thank you.
Corriere dei Piccoli.
So…
Corriere dei Piccoli.
"CDP." The Corriere dei Piccoli.
"P6." Page six.
Forty-nine.
Three, four, five…
"Take soon."
Precious.
The gol-- the gold!
The gold!
The gold! I figured it out!
I figured it out! I figured it out!
I figured it out!
What is it?
-Marcello last night. -Mm-hmm.
He heard a coded message from the ministry.
-And? -It's a plan to flee.
-They wanna run away. -They?
Mussolini. Shh!
Mussolini's hierarchy, the officials of the Salò Republic.
With all the gold they stole from us.
-Hmm. -Can you imagine?
All of Italy's treasure, ours.
It's in the Black Zone right now.
-But it's about to go to Switzerland. -You're fucking insane.
-What are you saying? -Shh!
-Black Zone is too dangerous. -We'll find a way.
They spot you. They'll fire.
A leaf in the breeze doesn't fall without Borsalino knowing.
-But that's your job, Yvonne. -No, if you haven't noticed, we're at war.
I'm aware. Who would be so reckless in a war?
-You. -No, us.
This is our chance, Yvonne.
The one we've been waiting for.
How can you not see that?
Well, I'm sorry, knucklehead.
But it's practically…
-Impossible. What are we talking about? -Shh!
The Black Zone is the most dangerous place in Italy.
Yeah, the whole fascist command's in there.
Look how it's protected. Hundreds of soldiers, ready to fire.
An armed guard at every corner. Turrets with machine guns.
It's a clusterfuck.
The warehouse where they keep the loot.
Show me.
-What's that? -What's what?
That. Huh?
The Siren Tower.
That's where alarms go off for the whole city
when there's a bombardment.
No, no, no. I told you, Isola.
-Impossible. -Why are you being an asshole?
It's not complicated. We just gotta think.
Listen, you gotta think a bit here. Look here.
Once we're inside, given they even let us in,
what are we supposed to tell them, huh?
-"We're here for the goods. Please, sign"? -I just need a plan.
And a few men.
-And how much time? -We have a week.
A week?
Get the fuck out of here. Thank you for the show.
Can we go now? I'm a bit too old for this shit.
We gotta get out of here. Isola!
We gotta go.
Oh, shit! Ugh, Isola, move it.
Hurry up, Isola, come on!
I've got a plan. I've got a plan!
It's still insane.
It's a plan though.
-But it might work, right? -I'm pretty sure.
So we just need three men.
Three specialists.
Yeah, a featherweight, a bomber and an expert driver.
For the explosives, I got a friend.
-Who is it? -We ain't spoken for years.
-He's reliable? -He's the best.
Good. That means two more. Any ideas?
Of men specifically or someone else?
Someone specific you got in mind? Still her.
Come back here! Stop her!
Shh!
Stop!
Stop! Hands in the air!
You got a minute for me?
-The driver? -There's always Fabbri.
-Fabbri? -Fabbri?
-No, no. No, don't be crazy. -Fabbri, yes.
Giovanni Fabbri, champion of Mille Miglia?
The national hero at the Nürburgring? That Fabbri?
You know any other, Amedeo?
-But he's supposed to have died. -Just in hiding.
Fabbri's not reliable.
He is. He discovered God, and he became trustworthy. He's spotless.
Did you bring the goods?
Come and see.
Seems all right, I guess.
Listen, Giovanni, you're a draft dodger.
Hiding out all alone in his uncle's Podunk monastery.
Hey, I was a hero of the nation at the Nürburgring. Don't you forget that.
Yes, and even so, when they find you, they'll shoot you.
Ah, when you put it like that. Who we robbing then?
We're robbing Il Duce.
A lawyer for the fascists worked here. His office.
I suppose I should plan to get a tetanus booster.
Fabbri, come on.
You're not gonna live here.
It's just an emergency shelter.
Sure, did the maid quit though or what?
And your demo expert, where's he?
We've got a bit of a problem.
You goddamn sons of bitches.
Out of my way!
I don't fear that which is unknown!
My soul will be true and not betray me!
It's not too late, my son. Repent!
-Who are you? -A friend of Marcello Davoli.
Pirates! Criminals! Cowards! Fugitives!
Deserters of all armies! Long live anarchy!
He has refused the sacrament.
Fire! Fire at will! Don't let them get away. Fire! Fire!
-Want some? -No.
All right, all right. Look who's here.
-Pietro. -He prefers Isola.
Isola. Is that a nom de plume?
-You're Molotov? -Yeah.
Nom de plume as well?
No, nom de guerre. It's different.
Oh, yeah?
You know, last time I saw you, you were about this big.
You knew my father. Is that right?
Michele? Of course I did. I mean, we were basically brothers, we three.
And you were in Fiume?
We were prepared for death. We all believed we could change things.
-Me, your father, Marcello. -Yeah, that's where I almost lost my leg.
And my friend.
If you wanna survive, better be a thief than a hero.
So follow me.
This is the plan.
GATE, SHELTER, TOWER
Each of us has a role to play,
so listen well and don't be some pain in the ass.
We've got five days left.
DEATH TO BANDITS
To get inside the area,
we've gotta get passes and certificates and all.
Hessa will procure one, and Amedeo will forge a few.
And the stamp of the RSI? We're gonna need molds for that.
-The originals are in government offices. -Yes, obviously.
I already have someone inside at the ministry.
-She agreed? -Yvonne will handle that.
We'll get a couple of military trucks.
The ones used by fascists to transport soldiers and prisoners.
Fabbri will drive.
Molotov and I will be in the back, wearing officials' uniforms.
And everyone else will be under the bench.
And finally we get in, but what about the millions of guards?
We'll lure them all into the bunker,
and we'll lock them inside.
Are you a magician or what?
How exactly do you plan on doing it?
We'll simulate an American air raid.
Those pieces of shit will barricade themselves inside the bunker like maggots.
To do this, we need you.
You'll climb here.
The Siren Tower, the control center for all the alarms in the city.
Is that all?
And who says the guards will just go into the shelter on their own?
Gotta give 'em a nudge. That's true.
Molotov and Amedeo.
They'll place explosives all along the perimeter.
When they go off, it'll be hell.
We'll have all the time in the world to steal the gold.
And the war is won.
I'm sorry. Can I-- can I see that, please?
Is this doodle me? Seriously?
You're a pain in the ass.
I'm sorry, do you realize that I got to the podium in Monte Carlo?
-I was the hero of the nation-- -At the Nürburgring. We know.
Yeah. By the way, Il Duce himself handed me the trophy.
Say whatever you want about Benito, but he knows his cars, okay?
-So all is forgiven. -Cut it out!
The sounds you're hearing, they aren't the war.
They're history.
You know why history always screws over the likes of us?
Because when they look at us, they see a few petty crooks.
We're nothing. A few zeros.
Wow. Thanks, boss.
I don't, Fabbri.
I see experts.
Virtuosos.
Seems that you've got a chance to prove it now.
To make back the losses with a little extra.
To take back all they stole.
Someone told me that no one is too smart for history.
Perhaps they were right, perhaps not.
But we'll never know for sure unless we try.
Fuck their history.
All well and good, but I'm the one who's gotta make a bunch of bombs, right?
At least 200 pounds of TNT are required to go through with this plan of yours.
Can't steal it from the fascists. The Americans won't give us shit.
Guess we gotta take back what we sold off to Ahab.
It's all being stored in a villa in Brianza.
The proprietor is a friend of the resistance.
-Wonderful. -And who's the owner of this villa?
Serbelloni.
Who's Serbelloni?
He's my director.
The Marquis Serbelloni.
Tomorrow night he's throwing a party at his villa in Brianza.
And I don't have a single suitable thing to wear.
Secretary.
I'm coming!
Get the car ready.
Leonida!
Yvonne. Hey.
Are you okay?
What's wrong?
Nothing.
I had a few too many.
A few too many?
What are you doing here?
I've gotta ask you a favor.
We need the ministry stamp of the RSI.
-A stamp, huh? -A stamp. Yeah.
You'll recognize it because it--
I know what the stamp to get into the Black Zone looks like, thank you.
-Please, Yvonne. -No, you have no idea.
The ministry is a killing zone. Guards are everywhere.
There are new prisoners arriving every day. You can't.
Borsalino is a monster. You don't know what he can do.
-You have no idea. -He won't be suspecting you.
Please.
Do you trust me?
Ciao.
What have I got to do, huh, Lamberti?
I warned you, didn't I?
You can lay your hands on any contraband that you find in the city.
But not that woman.
You fell in love or something?
Lamberti.
A true businessman…
should be thinking with this here.
Hmm?
Not with this here.
And not…
with this here.
Huh?
Lamberti.
You leave her alone, and you'll be just fine.
Don't and your friends are gonna hang with you.
FOUR DAYS TO THE HEIST
-Excuse me, please. -Ah.
Want it or not?
Are you sure the weapons are here?
Yeah, certain. We just gotta corner Serbelloni.
Have you ever been anywhere like this? Huh? I have.
Hmm.
Hey, anarchist. I got you out of that place to work.
-You hear me? -Unbelievable.
-You sound like a lord. -I'm a lord, sorry?
Just think if Michele heard.
Hey.
You did pretty good with the kid, huh? He's clever.
Michele would be proud of the two of you.
I doubt it. Pietro ended up a thief like me.
You want the truth? It was fiction.
The art deco in cinema is over.
Would you like foie gras, madam?
Because we artists
have the political duty and moral duty
to rip off the veil of Maya between the bourgeoisie and proletariat.
Yeah, because, sorry, Carlo,
the piece that you produced last was beastly.
Through no fault of your own. I was the director, right?
No more barriers. Put an end to structural constraints.
That's why I have decided-- no-- to shoot my adaptation
of Madame Bovary in and among fishermen,
you see, les pecheurs of Pantelleria, hmm?
Camillo, darling. Tell me who's going to play Emma Bovary.
Tell me.
My muse. My fountain of perpetual beauty.
You won't see any Madame Bovary, ladies and gentlemen.
You will see the only Madame Bovary.
We're destined for success. I know it.
Inévitable, no? Right, Carlo?
What is it?
There's trouble ahead.
-Good evening. -Good evening.
Red carpet, the premiere, and I tell her in the room,
"Nora, don't put on a red dress with a train," I say.
She puts on her dress with--
-Champagne? -No, dear.
You?
-Oh, my God! I'm so sorry. -There you are.
-Pardon me. -Oh, it's fine. It happens.
Marquis, I'm sorry.
Don't worry about it. Imagine I said yes, please, huh?
Please, it's fine, dear. C'est la jeunesse.
Except, this is silk, huh?
Excuse me. I retire to my room, and I'll be right back.
For fuck's sake! God!
Well, what can I say?
Trust common people, yeah?
And you end up with this shit, you know.
Where are the weapons?
Marcellino.
The cars. Bring them around.
Hero of the nation, watch our backs, will you?
Get to work, guys! We gotta get to work! Go!
Serbelloni?
Ever vigilant.
Hmm.
Champagne.
Move it!
Kiss me.
Milan's Casanova. Hurry.
We gotta go.
Uncle! Uncle!
-Fiorenzo. -Who the fuck did this?
I don't know. Some waiter with a pistol!
-What for though? -What?
What for though?
-The weapons! -Son of a bitch.
Fiorenzo. Fiorenzo!
Untie me! I can't believe this!
Oh, Jesus. For fuck's sake!
Don't move. Hands where I can see 'em.
Who the fuck are you and how the fuck did you know about all the weapons?
Fucking turn around!
You?
Where were you?
Hey, I showed up when it counted, didn't I?
Let's go! Drive the car!
Yeah, obviously.
Now we're only missing the stamp.
Citizens. Workers.
General strike against the German occupation,
against the fascist war for the salvation of our lands,
of our houses, our workshops.
As in Genoa and Turin, make the Germans face the dilemma,
surrender or perish.
What a surprise.
Amour.
So shall we go then?
I've got something to show you.
Come with me.
There's no need to be afraid.
Come on.
Twenty years of glory for this nation.
Impressive, hmm?
Like what you see?
Whose are they?
Yours if you like.
Don't joke like that.
It's not a joke.
Come with me. It's already been taken care of.
The Swiss have already agreed to everything.
We'll all be with Mussolini, Claretta and their guards.
Of course, when all of this has finally blown over,
we could buy ourselves a fazenda in Argentina or Brazil.
In the sunshine. Somewhere far away.
Would that make you happy?
I don't know.
Nora never wanted to have kids.
But I've got you now.
We could be happy.
We could be a family.
I don't know if I was made to be a mother.
I think you'll make a marvelous mother.
And I'll fight for you and protect you always.
What's her name?
-Yvonne. Yvonne?
Yvonne.
Nom de plume as well?
No. Nom de guerre.
Go on, go to her, birdbrain.
Sorry.
Don't you wanna get some rest? You earned it.
Yeah, maybe you too.
We're old farts.
-We'll rest when we're dead. -Mm-hmm.
I'll see you later at the hideout.
I should have known that you were a bad influence.
Fuck you.
Achille.
Aren't you tired of working? Hmm?
Mm-hmm?
You're pathetic.
That stupid whore doesn't care about you even a little, and you know it.
Leave me alone, Nora.
You know who was the first topless cinema actress in Italy?
-Sorry. -Answer me.
-Clara Calamai, The Jester's Supper. -Vittoria Carpi.
Who's she?
The bride of Artalo, The Iron Crown by Blasetti.
A bit part, just a minute or two. A tiny meteor.
Nobody ever remembers her. Gone so quickly.
So what?
You're Vittoria Carpi.
I was born to be loved by others.
Yes, my whole life I was always the protagonist.
You though. You're just a puppet for the boss.
And you're background in your own shitty life. I pity you.
Says the daughter of a cart driver in Cremona. Eleonora Masciocchi.
Shut it.
And you've appeared in more beds than films
to get the life that you've got.
Shut it!
We're finished, Nora.
A nickel's worth of free advice.
Go find yourself a new benefactor.
Women like you, in this place, they come to a bad end.
Fine.
Fine!
Find your stupid whore and fuck off.
She's waiting for you!
THREE DAYS TO THE HEIST
The mermaid of Cabiria, Yvonne.
Yvonne!
Yvonne. Yvonne!
Don't touch her!
I said leave her alone, didn't I? And you wouldn't listen to me, Isola.
Fuck you!
Yvonne can do better than a man like you.
Yvonne. Yvonne, we gotta go.
Sir. Sir!
Bring that son of a whore to me and find all his friends too.
I want them all dead.
Can I have a cigarette?
That was my father's.
It's for you.
It's all right.
Get down! Down!
Go, go! Come on! Go! Go!
-Go to the van. -Is it ready?
-Go, go! -Let's go!
Aw, my fucking rifle!
Marcello!
Isola.
Hey, what happened?
The fascists were at the shop, man.
A fucking battalion.
-How's everyone? -All right.
I've stopped the bleeding, but it's gonna get infected.
Marcello.
Nothing can kill you, huh?
What's wrong with her?
-I'm fine. I'm fine. -Yeah.
Borsalino, he tried to murder all of us.
Are we busted?
-What? -Are we busted?
No, I don't think he knows about the plan.
Listen, I think it's best if we call up a doctor and forget the plan.
What do you say, huh?
-You wanna forget it? -Yeah.
You wanna forget it?
Isola, she's in need of a doctor.
He is in need of a doctor.
God, I'm in need of a doctor.
No, stopping the plan now is too risky. Borsalino's looking for us.
What the hell did you do to piss off a man like that, huh?
-Did you find them yet? -No, we're looking everywhere.
Yvonne?
How far along are you?
I don't know.
-So, it's possible that, uh-- -No.
It's yours. I'm sorry.
Why would you be sorry? This is wonderful.
Really?
He's gonna be the most spoiled kid in the world.
He'll have everything that we were never able to.
Hmm.
-Hmm. -What's that mean?
It means it's a sign, Yvonne.
-A sign of what though? -That we gotta do the plan.
Still.
You'll never get in.
-We will. We've got a plan. -No. No. I'm sorry, no.
I've gone there and seen it. It's impenetrable, truly.
It's suicide.
You saw Mussolini's treasure?
How much?
As much as we dreamed it was.
And who brought you there?
Borsalino.
But why?
Isola. Isola.
That's it, right? So now you're all here.
Thank God you didn't get yourselves killed.
I was worried I'd get here too late.
Gianna Ascari. It's a pleasure.
What do you want?
The two of us have business together.
How's that?
Let's split it all 50/50.
A bit for me and a bit less for you, but it's more than enough, I think.
-What do you mean? -Don't play dumb.
She was spying on us.
The other day at the Cabiria,
I wanted to speak about Achille.
And I wanted you to end your affair.
You might have said sorry.
Show some respect.
A little bit of recognition, woman to woman.
Instead, I found something better.
An idea.
They spot you, they'll fire.
No, a leaf from the breeze doesn't fall down without Borsalino knowing about it.
Leonida and I couldn't arrange things in such a short time.
But since you had a good plan, we decided to let you play on.
I don't fear that which is unknown!
My soul will be true and not betray me!
I could have reported your plan at any moment.
And I didn't.
This is the plan. Each of us has a role to play.
So listen well. Don't be some pain in the ass.
So, if you agree, you'll do the heist, and I'll keep watching your back.
And when it's over, we'll split the spoils.
That's what you guys like to say, right? The spoils.
You really hate your husband, huh?
I'm not a part of his plans.
Some other woman was.
One who's about to leave with him. Didn't you know that?
And what if I kill you?
Leonida will unleash my husband.
The Germans or his own soldiers will get you.
And the treasure flies away to Switzerland tomorrow with Il Duce.
Heard the most recent message?
Change of plans.
The Swiss have anticipated the border crossing.
Get our guys to the Black Zone.
Leave now, get our forces there to defend it and hurry.
And the prisoners?
No evidence that we were here.
Fire!
You've got-- I mean, we've got 20 short hours or about.
THREE DAYS
24 HOURS TO THE HEIST
You can't be considering this.
There's not much to consider. It's a sensible offer.
Come on, Isola, who's the boss here? You or my husband's whore?
Deal.
-Isola. -What?
Whoa!
How could you?
We'll be on the gold.
-She'll be on her husband's. -Ah. I see you're clever.
-What are you doing? You trust that bitch? -What do you care?
You're risking your life, your child's life.
You were about to go. You wanted the baby, you stupid slut!
I pity you. I pity you. Don't you see what you've turned into?
How do I know it's my kid you've got?
Protecting me, huh, Yvonne?
No, I wasn't protecting you.
I was trying to protect someone else.
The show's over.
Tomorrow we gotta be ready.
Tomorrow night, really? We'll never make it.
So fuck off then.
You wanna go, then go. But whoever stays, stays till the end.
I'll stay.
I'll stay too.
Fuck Il Duce!
Hmm.
Who's gonna drive them?
Watch it!
Sorry.
Prisoner Pietro Lamberti. Orders of the Secretary General Achille.
Prisoner Pietro Lamberti.
No.
Pietro Lamberti! Orders of the Secretary General--
Ah, no!
Sir, documents!
A prisoner! Pietro Lamberti!
Orders of the Secretary General Ach-- what the!
Sir, documents! A prisoner, Pietro Lamberti! Orders!
Heil!
Sir, documents! A prisoner, Pietro Lamberti!
Orders of the Secretary General Achille Borsalino!
Sorry, gents, let's move it, huh?
1:55.
At three o'clock, the sirens. At 3:05, we blow everything up.
You sure?
Just punch me.
-Do it harder. -Sure about that?
Do it harder!
Want another?
I'm good, thank you.
Let's move.
ZERO HOURS TO THE HEIST
What are you transporting?
A prisoner. Lamberti, Pietro.
NATIONAL REPUBLICAN GUARD
Take this to the lieutenant on duty.
Open the gate!
You have to close it, quick!
Hey, the treasure's in there.
You're up. Go to the Siren Tower. Go.
Come on, little guy. Let's go.
Step out of the truck, sergeant, please.
Out!
Who's this?
Pietro Lamberti, prisoner.
I wasn't informed.
Orders of the Secretary General Achille Borsalino.
He didn't tell me anything about this.
Follow me.
Hey, almost time. Better move. Move it. Go!
Thank you.
Shh! Nothing happens if you're quiet.
I'm sorry. I had no choice.
What do you want?
Calm down. I don't wanna hurt you, Yvonne.
Nora is not an easy woman, l admit, but…
she's smart. She's always been very smart.
Her husband's the right one. Life's the right one.
And who did you choose?
A parasite, a swindler.
Well, then I'm just a run-of-the-mill whore.
We're just perfect for each other then.
A few hours and we'll be across the border.
In time, you'll understand that this was the right choice.
I love you.
What?
Sorry, sir. I just got a prisoner who was brought into the depot for you.
A prisoner?
Lamberti, Pietro.
Sir?
Don't let him out of your sight. I'll be right there.
EXPLOSIVE
The alarm!
We're coming right after the enemy.
Stop! What are you doing?
Calm down, comrade. Calm down. You're not the only one working.
Your documents. Come on, show them to me.
Sure, sure, naturally.
Here they are.
Tie him up!
Stop!
Viva anarchy.
Shit.
Take cover!
No, please don't leave me too.
Fire!
No.
-Fabbri, we have to block the door. -Uh-huh.
Come on, in the truck! Go! Drive!
Fucking hell, Fabbri! Fucking hell!
Oh!
Oh, my God.
This bar is fucking heavy.
Look. Look!
I'm losing my mind.
Look!
Start with the gold bars.
Oh, my God.
Where's Molotov?
The man deserved to see it at least.
Molotov was never in it for the money.
Enjoy your victory.
It's what you worked for, no?
I steal things, Marcello.
Let's get busy! Let's go!
It's not over till we're far away from here.
What are these things?
Wedding rings.
Donations
from all Italian wives to fund the war effort.
Yeah, my mom turned over hers.
It was all we had left of Dad.
Your husband?
An agreed upon divorce, you can say.
-Incompatible in the end. -Hmm.
Half goes to us, half goes to you.
I… take no pleasure in doing this,
but you're staying put.
This wasn't the deal.
Now someone's moral? You would have done the same thing.
That's true.
Now drop your guns! Let's go!
Drop your guns!
Leonida.
I suppose now you let me go, and we get in the car and drive away.
Huh?
Pietro.
Don't hurt her, please.
I feel like your friends don't quite understand.
Oh.
-Let her go. -No.
-Let her go. Let her go! -Don't hurt him, please!
-Pietro! Don't you hurt him! -Let her go!
Such a brave girl she is. You should have listened to her.
I'll kill ya!
Yvonne!
It's been a pleasure doing business with you.
-On your knees. -No! Pietro!
Pietro!
I was a hero of the nation.
Go! Go, go, go!
-This way! Go! -Go!
-Give it to me! -Isola!
-Cover! -Ahab.
-Found any friends yet? -Come on, this way!
Bomb! Bomb!
-Yvonne! Yvonne! -Pietro!
Pietro!
Hmm. Girl wasn't fucking around.
She warned you, didn't she?
I suppose she figured you'd fuck the whole thing up, Isola.
I know where they're going, Ahab. Ahab!
-Maybe we can catch up. -Catch up how? Catch up how?
Well, we can't abandon her, Ahab.
Can't you see the vehicles are damaged?
-I'm begging you. -Isola.
It's impossible, Isola, but we did everything we could.
-You only care about the gold! -I'm sorry. You don't?
-I don't! I don't! -Easy, drop it.
No. Kill me! Do it!
-Kill me! -Pietro.
What?
Over there!
Whoa!
Pietro!
Oh, shit. Oh, shit.
Isola!
Yeah!
Oh! You're alive. You're alive.
I love you.
May I? No, no, no, pretend I'm not here.
I was wondering though. Now, how far down do you think it goes?
Huh?
How deep is the lake?
For me, not too deep.
We can retrieve the treasure though. We can.
I know we can. I mean, it's right there. Why wouldn't we?
-What's wrong? -No, nothing.
We'd be idiots to leave here and not try to get…
Do you trust me?
It can't be that deep.
How deep can a lake be? How deep can a lake really be?
-I mean, it's not that big around. -No.
It's not that deep, right?
We're thinking about it. We're thinking about it.
We interrupt this broadcast
to communicate some extraordinary news.
The German armed forces have surrendered to the Anglo-Americans.
The war is over.
I repeat, the war is over.
Oh!