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(TYRES SCREECHING)
IGOR: He's on the move.
There's two of them.
(GRUNTING)
(SCREAMS)
- We were unlucky. - No, we weren't. We blew it!
We've lost our edge. Those guys haven't.
After 25 years they're razor sharp!
My orders are to return to Moscow immediately.
Sorry, I'll miss the theatre, Igor.
Eh, Bonnie Scotland, is it, girls?
- No, Glasgow. - Hop in.
PERCY: They were with a couple of lasses.
What do you mean "lasses," Percy?
MAN: Been a spate of break-ins tonight.
(GLASS SHATTERS)
Just nicked another joker having a go at old Thrasher Coward's place.
KARL: Hi, George.
ALBERT: Fantastic. Bloody fantastic.
ALBERT: There's a light out there, keeps flashing.
That's just one of the boats.
(THEME MUSIC PLAYING)
(BIRDS CALLING)
(BLEATING)
(HUMMING)
JEREMY: We got a deal, then?
Whoa, whoa!
I'm assuming the £1,000 you've pitched was merely a ballpark figure.
It's above the going rate. And it'll be in cash.
Oh, come on, Jeremy.
You above all people should know about the laws of supply and demand.
There are plenty of other boats out there, you know.
Their skippers might ask a few questions.
You show up here in a clapped-out banger,
with a dodgy-looking bloke in tow
and a stash full of serious readies,
looking for a discreet trip to the Irish Republic.
Don't think you're in a buyers' market, old son.
Let's not piss about, Donald. How much do you want?
(BREATHES DEEPLY) The boat...
Hamish... Not forgetting the keeping-the-nose-out factor,
shall we say £2,500?
- Two thousand, final offer. - Done.
MAN: All right, I can do it.
And make sure you're ready to leave in three hours.
MAN: It's all right, mate, let's go.
- (TELEPHONE DINGS) - Scheming little bitch,
I knew I should never trust her.
You know what that girlfriend of yours has done?
- Sorry? - Grishina isn't back in Moscow
because she never took that flight.
Which means that she's still in the UK. What the hell's going on, Kostov?
I don't know. I know nothing about it.
Never, never trust the KGB.
You get me that slimeball boss of hers, Petrovski, on the scrambler!
Can't imagine what she's doing.
And believe me, sir, she never was my girlfriend.
- Get out and get on with it! - (SIGHS)
(HORN BLARING)
- Come on, get a move on. - Give it a rest.
- What have you got in there? - Maurice. He's going home.
I'll post him in the village.
You might have to lend me a quid or two.
The nearest post office is 10 miles away, and we're late.
(SIGHS) Bloody hell.
Sharon'll be heartbroken.
They do have post offices in Ireland, you know. Now come on, get a move on.
- I don't believe this. - What?
Get him out of that box.
Maurice doesn't want to go to Ireland like that.
(CAR ENGINE STARTING)
That's more like it, isn't it, Maurice?
(CAR ENGINE REVVING)
SHARON: Has this man found Maurice yet, Mum?
Has he buggery!
Mam!
I've thought about him lying about the orphanage.
I'd like you to carry on.
- What are you expecting me to find? - I should've thought that was bloody obvious.
Find him. Find out where the bugger's run off to.
Yes, but...
But nothing. There's two other kids besides her.
Maintenance and everything to be considered.
Mam, leave this to me.
Oh, it's all right for him, isn't it? Shacked up with his fancy woman.
He'll be laughing his chuffin' socks off.
Mam, take our Sharon out and I'll be with you in a minute.
Come on, love.
And tell him, Sandra. No results, no money.
(DOOR SHUTS)
(DOG WHIMPERING)
I'm sorry.
I'm used to it.
I just meant...
If you're just looking for grounds for divorce, save your money, you don't need me.
I thought I knew him. An honest man.
Now all these lies...
I've got to find out why.
ALBERT: Incredible. I haven't left Britain since the day we arrived.
Sandra and me went to the Isle of Man once.
Before the kids were born.
There's no turning back now, I suppose.
Too bloody right.
SULLIVAN: You're an asshole, Richfield.
Not only do you get caught, but you break into the wrong goddamn house!
- Jeremy Coward is squeaky clean. - KARL: Sir.
I'd kill to find out what those devious, double-dealing sons of bitches at MI5
know about that vicar.
No, no, no. Wrong again, George.
Not the bloody vicar!
He's just a cranky liberal, C of E's full of 'em.
The Yanks are on the right scent.
How do you mean, sir?
The cousins were checking out a top international banker, Jeremy Coward.
Given the state of the Soviet economy, just the sort of chap the Reds would be after.
Not some nut cutlet-eating vicar.
Mmm! Right on, little buddy.
Now that it's out in the open, maybe we should, erm,
chat with the Brits.
Sure. But we got to keep face.
I'll be goddamned if I make the first call.
(PHONE RINGING)
Yo. Who?
Er, yeah. Just a sec.
Well, well, you didn't call them. They called you.
(CHUCKLES)
Yes. That's right.
Can you hear me?
Just a minute. George, change.
George, change!
Come on, man. Come on!
Here you are, sir.
Yes, yes, a meet.
Well, I'll play, surely.
We made the first phone call.
ALBERT: I was Vladimir Zelenski.
Then I was Vladimir Zelenski pretending to be Albert Robinson.
Then I became Albert Robinson.
What am I now?
You're a pain in the arse, that's what you are now.
For God's sake, give her a ring when you're safely in Ireland.
Sorry. Short detour, mail drop.
The kind of money I'm shelling out, I don't expect to play Postman Pat.
Well, the sooner they're dropped off, the sooner we're on our way.
They go up there in the shelter.
- Funny they should get so many letters. - What do you mean?
Well, I haven't noticed any houses, have you?
(BOAT ENGINE STARTING)
For Christ's sake, Donald, stop pissing about.
Afraid someone's read the market, old chap!
You get back here! What the hell are you talking about?
Don't look so miserable, enjoy yourselves!
The weather's set fair, the scenery here is stunning!
- Ciao! - Maurice, Maurice!
He's got Maurice! Maurice!
JEREMY: He's here, you fool!
He's here.
(SIGHING)
- Come on. - I'm trying.
- Bloody hell! - Come on.
Hang on.
That's it.
(WOMAN SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
AI's wingless wonders, I presume.
(CHEERING AND SHOUTING)
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
Comrades,
I know you are happy, but we need quiet please.
(CHEERING AND SHOUTING)
(IN ENGLISH) Bugger off.
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
Sorry for that. This is a big day for all of us.
Please, sit down.
(IN ENGLISH) Do sit.
Ah.
Your Russian must be very rusty after all this time.
Some formalities, I'm afraid.
I'm sure you understand, we have to go by the book.
Rublev. Sergei Alexeyevich.
Look... (CLEARS THROAT) I've had quite enough of this pantomime.
I don't know who you are, but I do know that it's a serious criminal of fence
to kidnap British citizens. I must insist that you let me and Mr Robinson go.
Zelenski. Vladimir Ibrahimovic.
- Yeah. - Oh, brilliant.
Come on, Sergei, it's obvious she's KGB.
It's commendable that you have kept your cover-up for so long, comrade.
But I am indeed. Major Grishina, KGB.
Yes, Major, that seems in order.
And I'm delighted to meet you.
Received a call from KGB Moscow.
Major Grishina has brought them Zelenski and Rublev.
Petrovski apologises for not keeping us informed.
But they felt the KGB had a better chance of picking them up without our help.
Yeah, very funny.
IGOR: Well, she got them.
I knew she would.
They're on a trawler off the coast of Scotland, heading for home.
(CRUSHING PAPER)
Screw the KGB.
I want an urgent communiqué to Moscow.
I'm going straight to the top.
I'm an orphan. I was found as a baby after an air raid.
I never knew me parents.
Correct. No family ties.
Well-chosen for this mission.
I wouldn't like to be the clerk who's got to work out your big subsistence allowance.
Is Andrei Zorin still handling this mission?
I'm sure he'll be informed.
(MAN SPEAKING RUSSIAN ON TV)
That is gonna be the sickest joke you've ever played.
Den Watts fell for it. But now the joke's on you.
This is a letter from my solicitor telling you I've filed a petition for divorce.
It also tells you to get yourself a solicitor
pretty damn quick.
Happy Christmas, Ange!
(EASTENDERS THEME PLAYING ON TV)
I've arranged cover to get into the city bank where Coward works.
I thought we'd go in as Fraud Squad, sir.
Insider dealing and all that.
Good.
(PHONE RINGING)
K-Division, Green House.
Cousins, sir. Richfield.
Yes?
No. I'm afraid that won't be convenient.
It's here or nowhere.
Will what?
Yeah. Goodbye.
What the hell's a Mexican standoff situation?
I'm not entirely sure, sir.
So bloody childish, arguing about where to meet.
I'm certainly not toddling over to Grosvenor Square.
Pretentious, colonial faggot.
He'll get his ass over here.
But there won't be any goddamn meat.
I think he'll see things your way in the end, sir.
You're damn right.
And we're going to be ready for him.
I'm gonna come at that devious bastard right out of left field!
And this guy, this guy is the key to the whole thing.
We're gonna nail his ass!
No, I'm afraid I had very little time for sightseeing.
Though I got invited to the theatre.
Something called the "New Ayckbourn Play."
Have neither of you seen it?
- Er, no, I'm not a big theatre goer, myself. - Me neither.
I have got some money in Les Miserables, though.
Really?
Not for personal gain. All part of my cover, you understand?
You don't like the theatre. Did you form any other interests?
Darts and football, I suppose.
I've got a season ticket for Man City.
Fascinating.
Neither of you seem remotely Soviet at all.
That was the idea, wasn't it?
Was it? You tell me.
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
Yes, we are questioning him now.
Yes, thank you.
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
Comrade Zorin,
welcome.
(CONTINUES SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
Recollect your memory, Andrei.
We need answers.
I told you we need to talk.
(IN ENGLISH) You are a pusillanimous little shit.
Please go away.
(BOTH SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
What did you just say?
Go away!
You can't speak to me like that!
Do you recognize
the signature?
I am the Chief now.
And I will speak to you as I please.
(IN ENGLISH) I could even have you taken out of here and shot.
So, piss off out of it.
Why did you go to such desperate measures to avoid us?
Well, I didn't know who you were.
Could've been anyone. MI5, CIA.
Why should MI5 and the CIA suddenly be interested in you?
You haven't apparently done anything for 25 years.
Apart from making personal fortune, of course.
Oh, hardly.
Are you a practising homosexual?
No, I'm bloody well not.
We've heard all about your special friend, Maurice.
Maurice is a sodding monkey, for Christ's sake.
Oh, that's Maurice.
Why are you so attached to this toy?
He's got nothing to do with me. He belongs to one of Albert's bloody children.
Are you saying that Zelenski has children?
I don't know.
You better ask him.
Initial contact was supposed to be by shortwave radio.
- (WRITING ON PAPER) - Where is this radio?
Er, I was forced to hide it.
By throwing it into a canal?
Yeah.
How long have you been married?
- What's that got to do with it? - It isn't a normal procedure
for a Soviet KGB agent to marry a foreign national.
I wasn't a normal agent.
It was part of me cover.
What are your wife's and children's names?
Look, they know nothing about it. There's no need to involve them.
For God's sake, those kids are my flesh and blood.
You mean you lived all these years with your wife
and she doesn't know who you really are?
Yeah.
Yeah, that's right.
The more I investigate, the more curious it becomes.
I can now find no record of Robinson having attended any school in the county.
More puzzling is the complete lack of any medical or dental records
before 1966.
I have one more line of enquiry to follow.
It remains one of the most bizarre missing persons cases I've ever encountered.
I've been going through his things looking for evidence.
You've no right, Mam.
I have every right, and just as bloody well I did.
Look what I found stuffed in his best suit pocket.
Some tart's underwear.
Now do you believe me?
They're mine, Mam.
Eh?
He last wore that suit on our wedding anniversary.
Oh, well.
If that's what you get up to, you've only yourself to blame if he's gone sex-mad.
- (SHIP HORN BLARING) - JEREMY: We're definitely going in.
- Lensk, possibly Arkhangelsk. - It can't be.
We haven't been going that long.
- It's probably Leningrad. - Does it really matter?
(BELL TOLLING)
Yeah, we are going in.
Hey up.
What's that say?
Dundee?
Dundee.
- Dundee, George. - We flew there this morning, sir.
Why would Chekhov want to go to Dundee?
Why would anyone want to go to Dundee, for God's sake?
GEORGE: That's not known, sir, though he's well out of bounds, of course.
Blatant provocation.
Dundee?
Let's go straighten out this pinko.
Save this. Stop that. No nukes.
These people are supposed to be our allies.
(KNOCKING ON DOOR)
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
(SCOFFS) I can't make head nor tail of this, it's all just figures.
Of course it's just figures.
It's a bank, for God's sake.
These people live in an unreal world, George.
Listen to this.
"Ramping the market.
- "Sticky Vicky." - (SCOFFS)
"Dead cat bounce."
Most peculiar.
I'm sorry to keep you waiting, gentlemen.
Barrington Cabot. I'm the senior executive.
It's a pity that we can't talk to Mr Coward, in person.
Good heavens.
I don't believe it! Stinker Titchfield!
My God.
Kipper Cabot!
(BOTH SCATTING)
(BOTH LAUGHING)
(BOTH SCATTING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
JEREMY (ON RECORDING): Er, Alison, it's Jeremy. Look...
I expect you got my message.
Erm, I'm really sorry about cancelling dinner.
It was very sweet of you to come cook supper that night. Erm...
Most grateful you were there when I needed you.
It meant a lot to me.
Thanks.
- It is nice of you to lay this out for us, Dave. - My pleasure.
Tell me how you got involved in stopping the bypass, Dave?
Fighting the good fight, I suppose,
against the bully boys at the DOT and their juggernauts.
So, you've been mobilising acts of civil disobedience, huh?
Well, Bampton-in-Marsh is hardly Romania, but I suppose you could put it that way.
This a hell of a nice piece of cake.
Er, Dundee.
Dundee?
Yes, and jolly good it is, too.
(CLEARS THROAT) Lose yourself, Karl.
Erm, excuse me. I need to find the...
John, as you guys would call it.
Up the stairs, first right on the landing.
OK, Dave.
Let's cut the crap, huh?
We got you nailed.
This is a meeting between you and the head of Soviet Intelligence UK,
and a top KGB major.
Now, maybe the Brits have been pussyfooting around with you,
but let me tell you, my friend, that is not the way Uncle Sam works.
Get the picture, asshole?
Are you certain, sir?
Cabot may be an American, but we were at school together.
If he says Coward's clean, he's clean.
So, what do we do now, sir?
We do what we always do, when we haven't got a clue.
If in doubt, throw the buggers out.
(WHISTLING)
(SHIP HORN BLOWING)
(WHISTLING CONTINUES)
Stop that.
You should see someone about your nerves, you know.
When we get to Siberia, they'd better stick you in solitary.
- What do you think'll happen? - I don't know.
I do know it's all your fault I'm in this jam in the first place.
- Don't start again. - Well, you got me into this.
You should never have contacted me, you selfish bastard.
Don't have a go at me.
It was your so-called friend who turned us in, you stuck-up, toffee-nosed arsehole.
And over the hill came the 7th Cavalry.
Hi.
I'm Victor Chekhov, no relation.
I'm head of the ID in the UK
and the best goddamn chance you boys have got. Take a pew.
(DOOR CLOSES)
Ah, Dundee.
Depressing place.
Bit like Moscow, huh?
OK, let's talk turkey.
(HUFFS)
Good to see you again.
Congratulations.
What was it like?
It must be amazing to meet them.
They are just ordinary people.
I don't think they are agents at all.
Oh, they were a long time ago, but now...
One is a typical capitalist,
but reasonably charming.
The other, well,
it's a real pity.
What do you mean?
He's a simple working man,
but he has a wife and children
who he loves.
We've broken all that up,
and he'll probably never see them again.
I've been meaning to ask...
Are you married, Nina?
Divorced.
Twice.
You're not the only one who thinks I work too much.
(DOOR SHUTS)
Now, this whole operation has cost an arm and a leg,
and in intelligence terms, it seems to me that you two loafers
have come up with a big fat zero.
They never contacted us.
Moscow won't be too pleased.
If you're lucky, you could end up in the Lubyanka.
A couple of clerks in the English department pushing pens until pension time.
If you're unlucky...
(IMITATES KNIFE SLASHING)
(CHUCKLES)
KGB hasn't changed that much.
What are you suggesting, then?
Now, I run an operation in the UK.
Soviet Union needs eyes and ears.
Moderate trade unionist.
Big shot in the city. Could be useful.
Are you saying that we could stay here?
(LAUGHS)
Well, what do you say, huh?
(SPEAKING RUSSIAN)
- Thank you. - What else are comrades for?
- (LAUGHS) - (DOOR OPENS)
We've got an order from Moscow.
From the very top.
Stupid and wasteful.
Well, I suppose you are happy now.
These are their orders.
Whether I like them or not is of no importance.
Roll up your sleeves.
Oh, shit.
ALBERT: I love you now...
I will always love you.
I hope one day,
you and the kids will get over this dreadful thing I've done to you.
Goodbye, my darling squidgy-face.
Forgive me.
Albert.
Mmm.
(EXHALES)
(GROANING)
(PANTING)
JEREMY: No, you're not dreaming.
You are here.
It can't be.
This can't still be here.
I'm real.
Unbelievable.
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING)
ANDREI: "Dear old, bloody old England.
"Of telegraph poles and tin, seemingly so indifferent
"and with so little will to win."
John Betjeman.
Welcome home.
(SNIFFS)
(COUGHS)
Of course, they laughed at Alec Issigonis when he first designed it.
Your place or his?
Well, we might at least be comfortable.
We must be a real disappointment to you.
I still don't understand exactly what you expected us to achieve.
ANDREI: Seems preposterous, now.
Back then, the analysis of Britain was
that by the turn of the century, its political system was in danger of collapse.
Declining industrial base,
increasing division between rich and poor,
south and north,
- social unrest, et cetera. - (SCOFFS)
Not that farfetched.
But were we meant to help speed up this downfall?
No.
By the '60s, our nation had progressed
from a feudal peasant society to a world superpower,
but it had been a hard, bitter road.
To hold the Soviet Union together, we needed strong external enemies.
So, what was our mission, then?
To prevent chaos in England.
Believe it or not, my highest hope
was for you was to become General Secretary of the TUC,
and Sergei, Governor of the Bank of England.
Good God, that's a bit of a tall order.
At any event, you were programmed to get to positions of some influence.
Not to destroy British society
but to keep it stable.
But I cocked it up.
Capitalism may well be doomed
but it is our system that's falling apart first.
Pleasure to have you guys here.
I'm sure it is.
- Shall we get on? - OK.
As your operation is in terminal mode,
I authorised and led direct Company action to eliminate the hostile threat.
Meaning what, precisely?
I had a word with a vicar.
I put the fear of God into that son of a bitch!
- Really? - (CHUCKLES)
He won't step out of line again.
We punched a hole in Chekhov's network.
Hardly necessary now.
Say again?
While you boys were
dealing with the monkey,
we've taken care of the organ grinder.
Meaning what, precisely?
I've been on to the Home Office. Chekhov and his team
are to be expelled, activities incompatible, et cetera.
You can't do that!
You haven't got a clue what the hell he's been up to!
He's going to get the bum's rush. That's all that matters.
Come along, George.
Let's find the elevator.
(ALBERT SIGHS)
Look, sir...
What is gonna happen to us?
Good question.
A lot of people in the directorate are very angry.
What are they saying?
They're furious at the sheer expense of getting you back.
And neither of you even attempted to make contact.
- Will we be punished? - I don't know.
But what really gets them is that you've absolutely nothing to show for it.
What do you think they'll do? Will they put us on trial?
I'm trying to persuade them not to.
Quite by chance, you both have qualities our country now needs.
How do you mean exactly?
Oh, Vladimir,
you have a wealth of experience in defusing industrial strife,
the kind of industrial strife
we and the Soviet Union will increasingly face.
And as we move towards a market economy,
your financial expertise will be very useful, Sergei.
No.
You're not on.
I've thought it all through.
I'm not Russian any more.
I'm Albert George Robinson,
and I'm English.
I have a wife and three children,
and that's where I belong.
They aren't gonna let me go.
Might as well shoot me
because I shall spend every waking hour fighting to get home.
What about you?
I couldn't have put it more eloquently myself.
I understand how you feel,
but you are KGB officers.
You can never change that.
What you are speaking now is treason.
It's all in there.
You've been to a lot of trouble.
- How much do I... - Forget it.
My missus reckons I'm a great cop and a lousy businessman.
Look, love,
it's up to you if you open it or not.
Perhaps some things are best left, eh?
Comrade Zorin?
Sorry, Comrade.
I have the transcript of the de-briefing you asked for.
Take it away.
It's of no interest.
But...
But you asked for it in every detail?
Bastards.
Bastards!
What has happened?
I thought those days were over.
I don't understand, Andrei Ivanovic, please explain.
Zelenski and Rublev
refuse to work for us.
And who can blame them?
I said, "Let them go. Send them back,"
but no.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
The more things change, the more they stay the same.
(GROANS)
What miserable, God-awful, shit people we all are.
(METAL CREAKING)
Sorry, Jeremy.
- (DOOR CLOSES) - I'm really, really sorry.
It's not your fault.
Had a good run.
I suppose it was always on the cards.
(GROANS)
I'm really glad I got to know you.
And me, you.
You silly old bugger.
- (GUN FIRES) - (BIRDS CHIRPING)
(GUN FIRES)
But they can't do that.
Not even a trial?
They would not co-operate.
I was ordered to hand them over.
What could I do?
Instead of getting drunk last night,
you could have tried to prevent it.
For God's sake!
These aren't the old days.
You could have screamed about it from the rooftops!
I need no lectures on protest. I just paid with 20 years of my life.
This is appalling.
I feel used and betrayed.
I should never have brought them in.
I'm resigning my commission.
ANDREI: No!
Don't do that!
Let's fight it from within.
Sorry.
But I'd rather sweep the sodding floor in McDonald's.
WOMAN: Would you like a newspaper. Newspaper, sir?
MAN: OK.
Would you like a newspaper?
ANDREI: Of course, you must go home,
but getting you back won't be easy.
I organised a fake execution to kill off your Russian identities forever.
(GUN FIRES)
ANDREI: I'm sorry if it caused you alarm.
It had to look authentic.
A quarter of a century ago, I set out to make you more English than the English.
If you had wanted to come back, I would have failed.
In espionage terms,
the mission achieved nothing.
No matter.
You have successfully crossed national and cultural barriers,
and in that very act, perhaps there is hope.
Do svidanya, comrades,
or rather, cheerio, chaps.
Right.
(WHISTLE BLOWING)
We can't have you going home looking like that, can we, Maurice?
- Hmm? - What am I gonna say to Sandra?
Now, you hold that. You'll think of something when you get home.
I'm sure.
There.
Right. (EXHALES)
This is it, then.
Yes.
Look after yourself, Albert.
(LIFT BELL DINGS)
Barrers, old chap.
I've got some inside info on a mega development in the Ukraine.
Hi, Serena. Coffee, black, no sugar.
Hi.
(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)
(PHONE RINGING)
(SIGHS) Look, I booked a table for two,
at my favourite restaurant, tonight.
Care to join me?
No.
No way, certainly not.
(SIGHS)
What time are you picking me up, you bastard?
(ALL CHEERING)
Dad! Dad!
Dad!
Maurice, Maurice, you naughty, naughty boy.
Where have you been?
SHARON: My dad had to go and find you, Maurice.
You're a very silly monkey, you should be ashamed.
I can't explain.
But it's over. (BREATHING HEAVILY)
I'm home.
Come here, you.
ALBERT: I love you.
DETECTIVE: It's up to you if you open it or not.
Perhaps some things are best left, eh?
(PEOPLE WHISTLING AND CHEERING)
♪ The long and winding road
♪ That leads
♪ To your door
♪ Will never disappear
♪ I've seen that road before
♪ It always leads me here
♪ Lead me to your door
(MAN WHISTLING)
♪ The wild and windy night ♪
NINA: Zorin.
To have got them secretly into England once
was remarkable.
But twice, Andrei, twice?
If you've put them back to sleep,
I'm certainly not going to wake them.
Work's over.
Let's get drunk.
(ANDREI CHUCKLES)
(DOOR CLOSES)
(UPBEAT RUSSIAN FOLK MUSIC PLAYING)
K1: It's over, George. Better luck on your next post.
- Where am I going, sir? - Port Stanley.
Falkland Islands.
Goodbye, George.
KARL: I won't miss the weather and I won't miss the food.
Where am I going?
Anchorage, Alaska.
Adiós, amigo.
Run out of town, Igor.
The party's over.
Do you know where Moscow's sending us?
Rumour is, Reykjavik, Iceland. (EXHALES)
(SIGHS) Holy shit.
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