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House of Cards US Staffel 1. Die Netflix-Serie spielt in Washington, D.C. Im Zentrum steht Francis „Frank“ Underwood (Kevin Spacey), ein intelligenter. Platz 9 - House of Cards: Hinter den Kulissen des amerikanischen Politik-Systems geht es heiß her - Gier, Liebe, Korruption und Sex sind. Das teilte die Staatsanwaltschaft Massachusetts am Montag mit. Der „House of Cards“-Darsteller wendet sich in einem Video an seine Fans. Gucke jetzt auf Burning Series mehr als Serien wie Die Simpsons, How I Met Your Mother oder The Big Bang Theory gratis auf znakiczasu.eu Aus der Miniserie The Haunting of Hill House wird eine Anthologieserie: Die Die US-Serie House of Cards hat sich der kompromisslosen Erforschung des. Englisch-Deutsch-Übersetzungen für house of cards im Online-Wörterbuch dict.cc (Deutschwörterbuch). Englisch-Deutsch-Übersetzungen für to collapse like a house of cards im Online-Wörterbuch znakiczasu.eu (Deutschwörterbuch).
I know because I checked the records. You have think of this situation in a certain way. Very smart. If I say the wrong thing I can lose my head, and I like my head.
Taehyung realised that he had named all of the team already except for him. They were only a small group of officers, for the only time they needed numbers was during raids.
Other than that there were just six officers on the current squad and it would be pitiful if not reflective of the rather low level of drug activity in the region.
There were more convictions for buyers of drugs than for sellers, and certainly not producers. No, most of the drugs floating around were imported shit from North Korea, China, The Philippines and more.
What the fuck am I supposed to do? By the time we get you inside you will know every single thing about the fucking Haedogje Pa you will ever need to know.
He was too busy staring at the files left on his desk to do so. That was why he had left the files there, to tempt him.
Taehyung sighed and pushed the lunchbox aside so that he could pull the files closer to him instead. He opened the thin manilla one and slipped the photographs out, spreading them across the desk.
The glossy surfaces reflected sunlight back at him. Then he opened his desk drawer and pulled a rather tattered notebook free, covered in scrawls of ink with torn and folded pages.
Right now the other files could wait. Taehyung wanted to do his own investigation first; starting with identifying as many men in the photographs with Jungkook as he could.
Then he would try and figure out what exactly that might mean. If anyone on their team could predict the future of Haedogje Pa then it was him.
That was why Namjoon had left him the files and had picked him as their spy. He had figured that much out on his own. Taehyung sighed and turned to look at the photographs on his desk.
No one on the shots looked back at him, all caught looking down the streets or at watches; fingers pressed to earpieces so that he could see black wires curling down and out of sight into shirt and suit jackets.
No one stood out to him on this particular outing. There was a high chance that they were just hired thugs and nothing more; bodyguards for the baby heir in their midst.
Taehyung dragged his eyes away from a bald-headed man to look at Jungkook: at The Boy. He tapped his pen against the notebook as he stared at him.
A new player on the chessboard, not a pawn but rather a king. Jungkook was limited right now, unable to move around much or control vast swathes of his empire yet.
No, that still remained in the hands of his father; who was now something close to the queen. The most powerful but not the most important.
Well, Taehyung knew his chess and that meant that he was going to be a rook. Taehyung knew about Haedogje Pa. He was sure that anyone working in the force would, along with those in government sectors and the judicial system.
They were often referred to as a cancer, a malignant cancer that lingered and would never go away. No petty street wars or power struggles.
Haedogje Pa were an empire to be precise: the largest and most ruthlessly monitored empire in the entire of Seoul. Everyone knew about them, but no one could do a thing to rid them from existence.
The poison applied to a great many things. The gang dealt in a rich profusion of drugs: marijuana and prescription medication like Valium and Xanax were the soft shit; Yeba, methamphetamine, heroin and cocaine were the more in demand, the hardcore shit.
Taehyung knew that the empire had been founded on drugs smuggled from American military camps into the general population. That meant that they were very important in regards to the culture of the empire.
A second staple and by no means last specialty of Haedogje Pa was countrywide prostitution. To call the women and men working the circuits willing was so far from the truth it was rather shocking.
They were either drug-addicts, immigrants, runaway kids or desperate. First the addicts, then the slaves.
There were underground strip clubs, brothels, dens filled with the kind of shit that Taehyung could only imagine.
Sungah had worked on busting open prostitution rings before moving onto the vice desk, and he had heard stories.
Stories that he had wished he never had. They were more vices that interlaced under these two: gambling, pornography, extortion and other shit.
These were just as important even if they seemed to be lesser, because they were just another pillar of strength that kept the gang standing strong and unbreakable.
Looking for a chink in the armor was something that took years of work, and more often than not there was never enough time or strength to break through.
It required power and influence, along with protection. He knew that Haedogje Pa had links to all kinds of powers in the country. There would be politicians, chaebols and CEOs, judges and more all willing to help keep the business flowing and the risks low.
When he had joined the desk for narcotics and illegal substances he had found out about Haedogje Pa very quickly.
Even now it was impossible to not see their name popping up everywhere that he looked. With them controlling the criminal underground in Seoul it made perfect sense.
Yet Taehyung had discovered something when he had starting delving deeper into the databases. Taehyung had discovered his rather tremendous ability to recall names and faces, and chunks of information that he had never truly done so before.
He had learnt the high-ranking members well enough to be almost a relative of theirs, and he could connect them all up like a web.
Taehyung had never realised how fantastic his visual memory was, and it was sorting through the files and updating databases that had allowed him to show the team just how useful he really was.
He was so much more than that. It had shocked Namjoon to the point of dumb silence when he had first given a name of a prolific member in regards to a conversation that he had overheard.
The other young man and Youngjae had been puzzling over a rather sloppy hit on a dealer that had been called Oh, standing in front of a cork board just across the department room as they had tried to figure it all out.
It had made perfect sense to him, seen as he had been listening to a recording just an hour earlier dated a month prior in which the man had vocalised concerns about a loss of profits in a district.
The exact same district that Oh had worked before his untimely death. From there Namjoon and Youngjae had connected the dots, but they had needed the initial push in the right direction to do so.
That had been the first time that Taehyung had used his memory to assist in the process of lining up suspects for arrest. It had not been the last.
Sungah had once referred to him as a university lecturer, an expert at Haedogje Pa knowledge. Daesu had told him that he needed to get a life.
If one were to send an undercover agent into the fray, what better one to pick than one that knew names and faces and allegiances almost as if they were already in the gang?
That was why he had been pulled out of desk duty and instead thrust into a series of terrifying and rigorous mandates to get him prepared.
That was why, just a week from now, he was going to be dragged into Haedogje Pa. Over the slightly tacky coffee rings and scattering of loose sugar particles.
Taehyung had never met Lim prior to this arrangement. Being an informant he had needed to stay well away from the department at all times, which was why Taehyung now owned a brand new phone and a whole new set of falsified credentials to his name.
Taehyung had expected a rather grizzled middle-aged man, tough and sinewy in a street weathered kind of way. He had not expected a rather chubby man with stubble on his jowls and hair that was too long and slightly unkempt.
But despite this he saw signs on him that showed that he had worked his job well. Lim showed himself in a manner that bled confidence and influence.
His suit was designer, the heavy Rolex wristwatch sneaking out from the cuffs whenever he reached over to retrieve something a sign of his bank account.
He breathed slow and evenly. He even blinked as if on a perfectly timed cue. It showed fantastic control and Taehyung had found himself consciously copying him during their meetings.
Lim was an informant, a spy in other words. Even during their meetings he was a gangster, not a police officer. At first Taehyung had been quite simply terrified by his brusque and blunt nature.
One time he had made a mistake the man had grabbed one of the knives from their table and had stabbed it right at him. All he had done was state that Park Woobin was a dealer in methamphetamine.
No, that was Park Wooyoung. Park Woobin had links to strip clubs and was most certainly not a name to be dropped in casual company lest he wanted to piss a great many men off.
Every time that Taehyung had made a mistake he had done something like that. A stab at his hand or chest with a rather blunt butter knife, the press of something against his knee that might just have been a gun from under the table.
Lim had trained him to be so scared of fucking up a street name or the standardised charge for marijuana that Taehyung had learnt that thinking before replying was a safer option.
He could take three seconds to get a correct answer and keep his cool, rather than get it wrong and potentially lose his head. It was about knowing the information mostly for his own gain.
The more he knew, the stronger he was. That was why he was being tutored like this. Knowledge is power, and every member of Haedogje Pa had power. He had needed to be eased into it all.
His wardrobe was no longer filled with casual clothing and the handful of shirts and black trousers that he needed for his desk duty.
No, all of that had been replaced in favour of suits. Not designer, not yet, but better quality and well-fitted.
He needed to look the part, in both fashion and how he held himself. Taehyung had spent many evenings in front of a mirror pulling at his shirt cuffs and just trying to look like he belonged in a suit; like it was a second skin to him.
It was hard but he had reached a point in which he now felt a little more confident in himself. Mostly that was because he had stood in the same room as several other gangsters other than Lim and he was still breathing now.
Those meetings had been absolute hell for him. Taehyung had spent the first three convinced that he would fuck up and say the wrong thing.
So far he had witnessed bribery for a local government election, the forced removal of a rather enthusiastic D. Always in public but in locations that he had known that the gang owned.
Coffee stores that were always filled with men in suits and women that looked like escorts, restaurants with bouncers on the doors.
He had once even been dragged to an underground strip club to sit in a back room for a deal. The bass had pounded loud enough for him to feel it like a heartbeat.
But it had paid off in his favour for he had caught the eye of a member. A very important member. The man was called Nam, first name currently unknown to him.
But he had seen him in the presence of The Boy and that meant something. Nam had addressed him like he would an underling, but he had addressed him nonetheless.
The man had wanted to know from Lim what exactly he had been in the meeting for. So Lim had explained that he was a tribute to Haedogje Pa, a new willing recruit.
From behind his shades Nam had studied him intently, all business deals at hand suddenly forgotten about in favour of him. Taehyung had yet to figure out who exactly he had meant by that.
Yes, the meetings over the near three month period had been rather hellish. His fears of fucking up had been unfounded. So Taehyung leaned over the photographs and he took a second to run his eyes over them.
Gets girls and boys from Laos, prepubescent. Owner of Blue in Gangnam-gu. The club is an investment, all cash earned goes in his pocket and not to Haedogje Pa.
He circulates earnings in Dobong-gu for homeless shelters. Deals in handguns mostly, but can procure assault weapons when needed. Chinese mostly, mass-produced.
Taehyung paused for a second to stare at the man before shifting in his seat. Pretty boy. Something to do with religion. Taehyung had to resist the pressing urge to gulp.
After a few seconds of silence the man burst out laughing and he nearly jumped in surprise. He had been forced to join a gym by Hoseok, who was also in charge of disciplining him.
The other officer had had a rather rushed period trying to get him into the physical and mental state that would make it seem like he had finished serving his military duty not too long before working for Lim.
That was a strength according to the informant, for military duty showed that he was a man that would follow orders.
But after a month he had found himself starting to get very much used to the hell that Hoseok had put him through. To say that he enjoyed it was a lie but he at least now felt like he was in a better condition to tackle the challenge.
But Hoseok had not just been in charge of drilling him into the right mold. No, the other officer had been given the responsibility of teaching him how to use a firearm.
Just like how Namjoon had told him he would receive training he had. He knew that Haedogje Pa men carried heat, not all but the important ones did.
He needed to have knowledge on using them too, even if the sight of the gun had scared him when Hoseok had first placed it in his hand. But he was starting to understand and accept firearms a lot better now.
Taehyung realised that his initial fear of the weapon had been incorrect for it had been a fear of the unknown. After handling a pistol, after learning to take it apart and clean it, to snap the safety back and how to replace magazines, he had discovered that he had been wrong in his fear.
Haedogje Pa were not like Hoseok however, and getting used to the sight of a gun in his hand was not the same as it would be in reality.
Taehyung would see them in holsters, tucked into the waistbands of trousers. He could see guns placed on tables like cutlery. Much like how Lim had to grill him over and over to ensure that he remembered vital names and faces, Hoseok also had to make him go over the mechanisms of a gun every single time they entered the shooting range.
Not a police one but rather a private range owned by a security company. Taehyung already knew all about the parts, he had been dissembling and reassembling the practice guns nearly every day for three months now.
Yet Hoseok still had to do it, because it was standard procedure. Taehyung knew that constant handling of a gun would eventually result in muscle memory.
He would be able to work the safety and reload with nothing more than a quick glance and deft movements of his fingers.
Hoseok had timed him and he now had reloading down to three seconds if he had a magazine close to hand. But that still felt like too long to Taehyung.
He spent those three seconds holding his breath and imagining how many other bullets could fly in that time. The firing range was currently empty save for them.
They were standing in the booth as far from the entrance as they could get. The booths were separated from the range by a long stretch of several feet, each booth separated from the next by a slight wall of concrete.
On the ceiling of the range there were pulleys and they were controlled by a button on the wall, and at the far end of the range there was a paper target.
On the counter beside them were several magazines of blanks and cleaning equipment. Taehyung studied the gun for a moment before looking back up at him.
Or concerned? Hoseok watched him fiddling with it, snapping back the magazine lock so that he could slip another round of blanks into the bottom.
The magazine slipped in with a crisp click. The closer you get to the top, the more dangerous shit gets. All of his men, the ones you see him with.
They have fucking permits to carry, security personnel. I can tell by the way they walk, the way they carry themselves. Armpit holsters. What if fall at the first fucking hurdle?
Taehyung glanced over at him for a moment and he saw that this expression was entirely serious. No, looking at him it was easy enough to believe that he was telling him the truth.
If only he could believe it. It was strange, the sudden muffled hearing, but even that could only bring the sound down to a reasonable level and not block it out fully.
Then he slipped the thumb safety back and lifted the pistol. Beside him Hoseok slipped a new sheet of target paper onto the hook and then pressed a button on the wall.
The machine kicked in with a faint vibrating sound as it carried the target back to the designated distance and then it stopped in place; just waiting to become a bullseye.
Taehyung took a deep breath just like he had advised and let it out slowly before pulling the trigger. The gun jumped in his hand just like always, the dull bang of the recoil.
But he was certain that he was getting better now. Maybe that was foolish optimism but he was certain that he was. After all, he managed to keep his arms straight and steady with each pull of the trigger and he no longer had an aching shoulder when the practice was finished.
That had to mean that he was improving somehow. When there was nothing more than a dry click to signal that the magazine was empty he lowered his arm and breathed again.
Then he reached up to pull the headphones free whist Hoseok pressed the button so that he could collect the sheet. Taehyung placed the gun down on the counter and flexed his fingers.
They could see clean through the bullet holes. Crippling, maybe enough to drop a man for the count but we need to work on that. Chest shot, good, right through the middle.
Something at the back of his mind told him that it was too late for this. House of Cards. Recenzje 4 Nagrody Forum.
Wideo 15 Galeria Plakaty Najlepsze Odcinki Najlepsze Sezony. Robin Wright Claire Underwood. Michael Kelly Doug Stamper. Kevin Spacey Francis Underwood.
Derek Cecil Seth Grayson. Jayne Atkinson Catherine Durant. Nathan Darrow Edward Meechum. Mahershala Ali Remy Danton. Boris McGiver Tom Hammerschmidt.
Paul Sparks Thomas Yates. Jeremy Holm Nathan Green. Michel Gill Prezydent Garrett Walker. Molly Parker Jackie Sharp. Neve Campbell Leann Harvey. Larry Pine Bob Birch.
Elizabeth Marvel Heather Dunbar. Nini Huynh Asystentka Claire.
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House of Cards: Season 6 - Official Trailer [HD] - Netflix
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