Under Paris (Sous la seine)

We are on the seventh continent,

a vortex of trash covering three million square kilometers,

four to six times the size of France.

Nearly a million birds and 100,000 marine mammals

die every year from ingesting plastic.

- That was awful. - No, go on.

- The stats suck. - No, they don't.

Don't stop. Keep going.

Come on. I love you. So much.

- Stop. - I love you.

- Right. Let's do this! - Okay, go ahead.

Action.

For over three years, my team and I have been tagging shark species

- to study their evolution... - Sophia!

We have a signal. Ready to go?

Go!

Head southeast. Stabilize at six meters and wait.

Go, go, go! Come on, guys, dive in five minutes!

The biopsy darts are loaded. Just the cameras to go.

They're ready.

Don't break them this time.

For fuck's sake! Could she find a nastier dive spot?

- Distance? - Five hundred meters.

She's getting closer.

Okay, guys, as usual, you follow me and stay above me.

Tom, Sam, stay together.

- Juan. - Yeah?

- With me. - Okay.

Stabilize at six meters and wait for Sophia's instructions, okay?

- Yes, Skip. - Yes, sir.

Juanito?

Juan?

Starting our descent.

Equalize and stay on course.

We can't miss her this time.

You're in your element. Right, Sam?

Is this your element?

How are you clowns getting on?

Descending six meters.

All clear.

I hope she doesn't bolt.

Don't worry. I won't let her.

Signal at 70 meters.

Direction?

South-southeast.

Okay. We'll keep an eye out.

Hang on. Stop.

See that, Sophia?

Another baby sperm whale caught in nets.

That's two in three weeks.

It must have suffered for days.

I'll check it out. Stay here.

Shit, its stomach is filled with plastic.

Chris, focus on Beacon 7.

Wait.

Do you see that?

A bite mark.

Yeah, but what could have done that?

Chris, she's closing in, 30 meters.

Oh, shit!

- Chris? - Chris, you okay?

Are you okay?

I'm fine, but it's not ours.

Others are coming.

When did makos start hunting in packs?

What the hell is this?

Wait, I don't get it. They're all female.

- How many? - Did you see their fins?

Is that normal? They're huge.

The same hypertrophy as Lilith.

There are about ten. What now?

Juan, do you copy?

They seem nervous. Safety protocol.

- Sophia... - Shit.

- Stay calm. - What do we do?

Keep a safe distance.

You guys are safe.

Signal, due south.

Chris, she's coming.

Puta madre , what is that?

Holy shit. Are you sure it's ours?

- She's at least five meters long. - No, that's seven meters.

I don't get it. That should be Lilith.

Then it's her.

It can't be. Three months ago, she was only 2,5 meters!

I'm sure it's her. Look, that's Beacon 7.

So, what do we do?

I don't understand.

How is that possible?

Let's go up. It's too dangerous.

Wait! We need a sample.

Have you seen the size of her?

Should I do it?

Fine, I'll fucking do it.

We have no choice, Chris. We have to figure this out.

It'll be fine.

Come at her head on, so you don't scare her.

You're at a good distance. Easy now.

Just a second.

- Gently! - Shit!

- Fuck. - Are you okay?

- Yeah, I'm fine. - Right, come back.

Hear that, guys? Mission accomplished. Up we go.

Chris, did you shit yourself?

Wait, I think she's coming back.

What? Where is she?

Chris?

Where the fuck is she? Can you see her?

I just saw her. Where is she?

Chris, what's wrong?

- I saw her go past. - Can you see her?

Chris?

I lost the feed!

Chris!

Chris...

- Chris! - Sam!

Come back up!

Chris, answer me!

Juan! Do you copy?

Sophia!

Sophia!

Sophia, no!

Sophia!

Chris!

Sophia!

Get back on the boat!

I got something.

Nice.

Let me see if I got anything.

I got something!

Wait.

I can't...

- You okay? - Yeah.

What is it?

POLICE BOMB SQUAD

Bomb Squad on site.

- Hold on, I'm coming. - Thanks.

- Everything okay? - All good.

- Everything go okay? - Yeah, it's clean.

Adama for Caro. Once Adil's done with the press, we can go.

Okay. Copy that. We'll wait.

Do you often find...

- We're good to go. - Okay.

...or is it something unusual?

We regularly find shells in the Seine.

With our colleagues from the Central Laboratory,

we've already recovered 100 or so.

These young men did the right...

- Angèle for Adil. - Excuse me.

I'll handle the press.

The prefect needs us for the triathlon briefing.

I'll catch you up.

- Sorry. She'll take over. - Thanks.

- Hello. - Hello, Commander.

To reassure you, there was no ignition system,

so no scaremongering.

- Good job. - Thanks.

...fishing with magnets is forbidden...

Let's go. Head back to base. Triathlon briefing.

Let's go.

Sir, kayaking is prohibited!

- Okay, relax. Nothing's allowed! - What's up with them today?

Who'd be willing to dedicate their lives to protecting whales?

- Me! - Me!

- Me. - Me.

That's the first question I was asked when I joined the fight for our oceans.

A world of dead oceans is a world without us in it.

What is a living ocean?

It's a biodiverse ocean.

That means an ocean full of fish,

as well as algae, coral, and vegetation.

If we cannot save our marine life,

we cannot save ourselves.

- Excuse me? - Yes?

Can the oceans be saved?

Well, a man named Paul Watson said...

Did your crew really die in a shark attack?

- Victor, phones away! - But...

Now!

- Enough. - Come on, miss.

I just asked a question.

Look, she's turning red.

Sophia!

Sophia! Mrs. Assalas!

I apologize. I'm really sorry to bother you, but I have to talk to you.

I follow all your work.

- Climate migration... - Sorry, I don't have time.

Beacon 7!

I know where she is.

Welcome to SOS.

Haven't you heard of it?

It's our ocean conservation group.

When we started, we didn't think it'd work.

But it's growing. It's serious.

We do what you do.

Well, as best we can.

We've always looked up to you.

We follow your work.

Everything you describe,

how nature triggers radical changes in behavior...