Code Name Coq Rouge (Täcknamn Coq Rouge)

Blow "attention."

Blow "over."

Plan Dalet is the name of a planned Arabian terrorist operation...

against a target in Scandinavia. We don't know the details.

No military in the Secret Service. We do our job, you do yours.

If we worked together

the man who killed the Prime Minister would have been caught within a week.

Now it's about the Middle East.

The best armed terrorists in the world. The best terrorists!

The best state terrorists as well, if we let the Israelis join the club.

Your problem at the firm is that you think in the past tense.

Here at the company we operate in the future tense.

Plan Dalet will be carried out here. On our territory.

- "Coq Rouge?" - A code name.

He's name is Carl Hamilton, Lieutenant.

Placed here with immediate effect. His official title will be:

Chief Executive Officer, The National Police Board.

Code name? Chief Executive Officer?

- Does the police commissioner... - He's been informed. Come in.

- Good. - Lieutenant Carl Hamilton.

Folkesson, Chief of the Middle East section.

The Chief of the Security Police Henrik P Näslund.

- May I ask? Is the government informed? - You may ask but won't get an answer.

I'll fix this.

- Is that the guy I'm gonna work with? - Not with, under.

Näslund! Näslund...

I can't say anything, but I can probably put a stop to Plan Dalet.

You?! What the military authorities seem to need half their forces for?

- I know something they don't know. - What? No, I don't want to know.

Just go ahead. Abort Plan Dalet and I'll get rid of that fucking cunt.

The UN in Lebanon says that the growing number of casualties-

is due to the fact that the Israeli, in their attacks over refugee camps-

used bombs with delayed detonation-

in order to obstruct the relief work or even make it impossible.

Even if Israeli Air Force earlier performed similar attacks-

the raid on Ein El Helowa has provoked protests in Israel.

According to Shimon Perez it was:

"A bombastic killing without a military purpose."

Näslund thinks the fucker was involved in the Palme murder.

Ponti?

- We were once on the same course. - Oh?

Well, "nobody's perfect" as they say.

I want all known details about Plan Dalet.

Why?

I'm supposed to stop Plan Dalet. That's my mission here.

So I'd tell you more than I tell Näslund and the others?

- Well, how can I work on the case? - There'll be no case.

I know what it's all about, so they'll never go through with it.

- Then it makes no difference. - Oh yes, it does.

I give them a chance to withdraw without losing face. No one will know.

They have confidence in me. Forget Plan Dalet. I'll stop it.

So I don't know what you're gonna do here.

You don't want me here, right?

We don't like members of the armed forces, specially not those who

become chief executive officers all of a sudden.

No, wait! I'm sorry about that last part. It was fucking clumsy.

I always want to try to be funny. You're not an ordinary soldier.

You've got some special training, right?

I can't answer that, and you're probably not allowed to ask me that.

PLO terrorist by the Lebanon border.

Jerusalem. A bomb in an Jewish café. 21 injured, 6 dead.

A bomb against a Lebanese mosque, 58 injured, 12 dead.

Have you... ever killed anyone?

No, I haven't.

- So Plan Dalet would be like that? - Worse.

Hamilton, Carl Gustaf Gilbert?

You have to perform a shooting test. Right away, if it's OK with you.

- Or you won't get a service pistol. - A service pistol?

I suppose you've got your own.

- Hey! Do you play golf? - No.

- Pity. Good luck with the shooting. - Good luck to you.

Folkesson.

You'll have seven seconds to shoot all the five shots.

To pass they must all hit the target, three of them inside the red circle.

Are you going to stand like that?

Ready...

Erik, please, don't shoot at grandpa.

- Hi, sis. - You're late, dear brother.

- Only 20 minutes. - Hi. - Hi.

Old antiquities! I'll give you better stuff.

Dad's keys...

- I'll keep mine. OK? - Yeah, OK.

- Will he settle down in Switzerland? - Back when taxes are reduced, he said.

- A data consultant? What do they do? - Telephone calls, lunches, bills.

Well, I suppose that's work, too.

M16.

Viva Zapata!

- Can you stay here? - Since I grew up here I think so.

That's an original conception.

Can Erik stay here the week before Christmas?

Got to go to Lausanne to help dad decorate. You're just consulting...

- Not much just before Christmas! - Say yes or I'll shoot.

OK.

- Bye. - Great, we'll be in touch.

THE SWEDISH CODE OF LAWS

Plan Dalet.

- Fristedt. Who the hell is that? - One of Näslund's gossipmongers.

- Näslund, Näslund, it's Folkesson. - On the phone?

No, he's...

Yes, Näslund. Yes.

Tokarev, a Russian gun. 7.62. A very rare weapon.

- I was out on my morning walk. - And the man came towards you?

I didn't see his face, but he had a green hood jacket. He just passed by.

Was Folkesson in charge of the inspection of Palestinian terrorism?

That's right. But his field of responsibility was even bigger.

It embraced all security questions regarding the Middle East.

- Are Palestinian terrorists excluded? - No, of course not.

- So you don't know? - No comment.

- But you have suspicions? - We follow different clues, yes.

It was an Egyptian cigarette. Who smokes Egyptian cigarettes?

A murder weapon left on a crime scene?!

We can trace the gun in the Russians' weapon register.

You don't believe the Russians will inform us if they're involved.

Are they?

Hell, it's a Russian gun. You said so yourself.

For Christ's sake, Fristedt, when we get the bastard who did this...

The upper desk drawer contains: A pocket diary, designated B1.

A pen, designated B2, a...

- ...peg. - Designated B3.

A minicalculator of the brand...

What about the murder weapon?

A ruler, designated B5, a bunch of keys with...

Skip that now. We'll do that later. There's a time for everything.

What are you doing here? I'm Fristedt and this is Appeltoft. Hello, hello.

- But who the hell are you? - "God's Revenge?"

December 23! "God's Revenge?"

"Last Number Dialed."

- "Shulamit." - "Hanegbi."

WAS IT THE PLO?

- Shulamit, can you stop Plan Dalet? - Yes.

You're making a mistake.

What happened to the Swedish police can happen to you, too.

Why the hell did you go there? Normally they're co-operative.

If the Israeli know, others know too. What about "God's Revenge"?

Forget it. The murder investigation comes first. I deal with the embassy.

- It's about time! - What?

I waited an hour and a half outside the movie.

- Five years ago! - Exactly.

What's your business nowadays?

Computers.

This is Carl, active in the pro- Palestine movement before your time.

- This is... - Anders Hedlund.

Petra Herngren.

Then we have Arlanda. A green jacket with Air France to Paris 10:45 a.m.

Helsingfors, two green jackets 11:15 a.m. but one without a hood.

- Copenhagen, 11:30 a.m. one... - OK, good.

- You know Ponti is under surveillance. - Yes, why?

He flew to Norway this morning, stays at the Grand Hotel in Oslo.

An Israelian congress tomorrow...

Ponti...

If the Israeli know something, he must...

- Ponti, of course. Ponti should know. - Yes, but he's in Norway now and...

He happens to be dressed like that. A green hood jacket.

Oslo on the line.

- Has it something to do with us? - Classified.

Just like always... Some shit we won't know about.

Näslund wants to solve this on his own.

He wants to show that it's the Kurds this time, too.

- What else have we got? Fingerprints? - No, nothing.

An Arabian butt and the number of the Tokarev gun. I've made a contact.

"Reception, the 45th anniversary of the Romanian People's Army."

Romanian embassy... Have you become a Communist, Fristedt?

- Is it the serial number? - Yeah.

Russian military attaché.

- Hey, can you lend me 400? - You owe me 500 since last month.

You'll have it. Don't tell Mom.

Where are you off to? The restaurant?

- Hi. - Hi.

No, no, no... That's classified.

- Will you get the bastard? - I hope so. - Now we're even.

But you owe me 900.

TOP SECRET

So this is Näslund's secret principal clue.

Ponti...

He's at a Middle East conference in Oslo. Näslund says it'll happen there.

Let's hear the phone call again.

- Hi, Ponti. The counter demonstration? - If it's news, it'll be broadcast.

- Do you know who shot the SÄPO agent? - I'm busy right now. Why?

You do what you find appropriate, and we'll see what I can do. Bye.

The guy talking to Ponti is Anders Hedlund, a known security risk.

Now Ponti is done... He's with a contact.

The Norwegians took a photograph. They're at the Grand Hotel in Oslo.

It fits. Murder weapon from Beirut. How do you know that, by the way?

- Well... - For five years under surveillance...

...and we haven't nailed the fucker, but now...

- Where is Hamilton? - No idea.

That's the photo...

Hamilton in Oslo?! With Ponti.

- What the hell...? - It's not that unbelievable.

They're both registered Communists in the Security Records.

Shit! A hole in my sock, and Communists in the firm.

- Suspect Ponti! So stupid... - Some shit from his compartment.

Receipts, program from Täby Galopp, a manual, a driver's log and...

- Notes on where he's been? - No, distance covered and filling-up.

There's a note on the back of the program.

"Call or check up 441106."

441106...

- Do they mend socks nowadays? - No idea.

I'd like to know who's got the number 441106.

Thanks.