All language subtitles for Betrayal.2026.S01E02

Seven years ago, John had an affair
with a woman at work.

JOHN: I've been
offered voluntary redundancy.

I need to do more at work or Martin
is never gonna make me a partner.

It could be good for us.

You need to do the handover to the
officer who'll wrap up this case.

GUNSHOT Fine. Who is he?

She.

Before he died, I heard him arguing
with someone about "the General".

That's Fatemah Feyzi.

BEESTON: 'There'll be casualties.

'That's what you want. Isn't it?
To make a splash.'

CLAIRE: So, the first question
is "appreciation".

Well, do you wanna go first?
OK.

So, I appreciate that you're
considering the redundancy.

Your turn.

I appreciated that blow job
you gave me back in 2014.

You're meant to be taking this
seriously. All right.

I appreciate you always
giving me a second chance.

I mean it, really.

This was a good idea. What's next?

A puzzle.

Something that puzzles you

or that you don't understand
about your partner.

Do you wish that you'd married
someone a bit more like Martin?

The idea of someone else, it's...

it's complicated.

What?

It's OK to say that sometimes
I do wish we had a more normal life.

I thought you'd say "No".

Would you rather I just lied?

Mummy?

I'll go.

Come on, mate,
let's get you dressed.

HORN HONKS

RUDY: So, I've decrypted everything
on Ehsan's laptop.

We have numerous documents
in English and Farsi.

Lots of imagery,
video imagery, pictures,

social media screen grabs,
we blinks, you name it.

In every single one,
as far as I can see,

Fatemah Feyzi is the subject.

It does looks like Ehsan Taremi
was surveilling her.

We know the Iranian army
used criminal gangs,

like that run by Craig Beeston,
to carry out attacks on dissidents

and media organisations
that speak out against them.

Thanks for the brief.

But I don't hear any apology
for going behind my back again.

I was in Manchester with John.

I understood he was onto something
and so I backed him. It's on me.

I see.

You're new, so it may be worth you
knowing that John and I go way back,

and I can smell the blag
from a hundred paces.

Ehsan Taremi warned me
that there are many lives at risk.

Fatemah Feyzi
is giving a talk next week

at a university in Liverpool
to 200 people.

Now, we know there
are hardliners in Iran

who are opposing
the UK's involvement

in the denuclearisation talks.

They wanna make a stand
by attacking more than one person.

KNOCKING,
DOOR OPENS

SIMONE CLEARS THROAT
Thank you, Emily.

This would all need sign off
from senior management.

Why? Why?
Come on.

We'll look ridiculous
sounding the alarm

about an Iranian terror plot
without any actual evidence.

You look thirsty, John.
Shall I be mother?

Why not?
You're only missing the pinny.

You still having sugar, John?

Two please, Gregory,
with a drop of ordinary milk.

Ordinary milk?
Now, it's not a biggie,

but we do know cow no longer assumes
the mantle of normative privilege

over oat milk or soya?

Do you know,
I find it deeply problematic,

the way that you've deliberately
excluded almond milk from that.

Then tell me, Gregory,

who'll speak for the humble
and oppressed coconut?

SIMONE CLEARS THROAT Sorry.

What about your informant?

Mona Taremi gave us a lead
on somebody called "the General".

We were gonna speak
to Jordan about it. Thank you.

OK, you can keep going with this
for the time being,

but Mehreen is running the show.

Go and talk to Fatemah.
And you keep in touch with me, yes?

Will do.
Thank you.

DOOR OPENS

'What do you think about Greg?'

Ordinary Milk Guy?
Hmm.

He's obviously not
your best friend.

I put evidence on the table
and he's still nit-picking.

I mean, does he hate me
or is this something else?

I think hate's a strong word, John.

What if someone on the inside
of the organisation

gave Beeston my address?

Gangsters don't get people
inside the security service.

My God, you are trouble.
Yeah, but what if?

It's no wonder they're trying to
manage you out of the organisation.

CHUCKLES

Woman, Life, Freedom
is, to this day,

the rallying cry for the right
to self-determination.

And this is a struggle

we must all be prepared to continue
for as long as necessary.

We must be prepared to lead.
And I will.

MANAGER: Back off!
BELL DINGS.

CHATTER

I had my first
Threat To Life Warning

from the police ten years ago.

I'm sorry, but if I stop
every time my life is in danger,

I'd never say anything.

This isn't only about
a potential threat to YOUR life.

We believe
that they're targeting your talk

at the Liverpool Central University.

What's your evidence?

We can't share
that information right now.

If I don't see evidence,
I am not cancelling.

I will not be intimidated
and neither will my supporters.

We've been fighting for decades!

And finally,
the West is hearing our voice.

Do you know Ehsan Taremi?

You gave a talk
at the Persian Women's Action Group.

Did you see his wife,
Mona Taremi, there?

I gave the talk a few months ago.
I don't recall meeting her.

Now, if you'll excuse me...

Are you sure you
don't remember Ehsan? He knew you.

In fact, he took a great deal
of interest in your movements.

Ehsan Taremi was murdered recently

and we're trying
to establish a connection.

Take another look.

I'm sorry, I don't know him.

Five kilos of Beeston's product
is missing.

Mm-hm. I know. But I know that
this isn't a fallout over drugs.

But there's an obvious motive
for killing Ehsan.

Well, then what was that shit
with Beeston

where he took us down
to the warehouse?

They want their gear back
and they think Mona's got it.

I think we need to speak
to Mona again. I agree.

I think she's holding
something back from us. Mm.

Must be miserable stuck in
a safe house for Persian New Year.

How's she doing?
OFFICER: Yeah, OK. Go through.

Hey, Mona, got you a coffee.

Are we safe here?
Yeah, yeah. I promise you, you are.

Look, I wanted to ask,

did Ehsan ever mention any concerns
about Fatemah Feyzi's security?

No, but everyone knows if you speak
against the government in Iran,

you may face danger.

We had some information that Ehsan

may have stolen five kilos
of Craig Beeston's heroin.

Ehsan... Ehsan wouldn't do that.

After Ehsan was killed there was
a thorough search of your property,

but I was wondering
if you had anywhere else,

perhaps in someone else's name.

A lock-up or a storage unit,
a bedsit?

What is it?

METAL DOOR RATTLES

Ehsan was a good man.
He wouldn't take that filth.

Forty-nine years.
So, what's the secret?

You want an answer?

I'm not sure we do, actually, Dad.

Compatibility, shared interests,

and understanding who's in charge.

One also has to keep
the flame of passion...

Oh, my God. No, Dad.
Graham, the dining table!

No, no, you carry on, Graham.
Someone top his glass up.

JOHN CHUCKLES

How's your mother, John?

Oh, she's good.
Thank you for asking.

How are her legs?

They're not so good.

But she's got one of those
mobility scooters

that she whizzes about on.

Honestly, I swear she gets
up to 60 miles an hour.

We really need to...
get up to see her with the kids.

It's been a while.

Claire was saying you're thinking
of a change of career.

No.

Well, I know you can't say anything.

And, er... I don't know
whether there's anything

to this offer
of voluntary redundancy.

But you've given over 20 years
of service to the country.

Graham, don't interfere, darling.
John's done his bit.

Why not go into the private sector
and earn some money,

and take some of the strain
off Claire?

TOILET FLUSHING

We always do things
with your family.

Well, we do live in London.

We should invite my mum down
for Christmas this year.

Really?

Why not?

I don't mind her
coming down for Christmas.

But I end up
running around after her.

The last time, you went off for work
and left me with her and the kids.

Kit was only three months old.

All right. Then we won't invite her.

Your dad really put me
on the spot tonight.

I'm sorry about that.
But he's worried about me.

You didn't tell me
you're not taking the redundancy.

Martin offered me partner today.

Did he?

Well, that's great.
What did you say?

I said thank you very much,

but that I'd like to sleep on it
and discuss it with my husband.

It's a lot more responsibility,
and Kit's still young. Yeah.

But, no, maybe I should be
a bit more like you.

Just out for myself.
Maybe my dad's right.

Well, your dad,
he's always right, isn't he?

Good relationships
are based on compatibility.

And maybe we're just... we're not.

And I'm sure your dad
would've been much happier

if you'd married
someone like Martin.

Unfortunately, Ehsan Taremi died
because he stole heroin

with a street value
of maybe half-a-million pounds.

Which, in Craig Beeston's world,
certainly guarantees you an OBE.

GREG: An OBE?
One behind the ear.

Well, I hate to say it,

but I did mention you may have been
over-hyping this one. Congrats.

SIMONE: Thank you, Mehreen.

Your work's been first class
on this.

I shall sing with an ever greater
joy at choir this evening.

Knock yourself out, Greg.

You should come along.
I bet you've a lovely singing voice.

Called Stella's Angels.
Established in the Rimington years.

Would you and Greg mind giving
John and I a moment alone, please?

This just doesn't feel right.
I think that heroin was planted.

Do you have any evidence
to back up this claim,

or is this another gut feeling?

What if Beeston was trying
to throw us off the trail?

He plants the heroin to distract

from the very real and present
threat to national security.

Your judgement's been lacking
all the way lately.

I'm your friend,
but I must warn you -

things are not looking good for you.

It's out of my hands,
so there will have to be an inquiry

into Ehsan and his killer's death.
What for?

I can hold off senior management

as long as you're on your way
out the building,

but if you're staying...
Then what?

"You, Mr John Hughes, will be taken
to the village square

"and publicly flogged." Is that it?

You can't stay at State Threats.
I'll let you know your options.

Such as they are.

CLEARS THROAT

You OK?

Yeah, fine. You?

Huh. I was meant
to be discussing the handover

of the Taremi case with the police,

but the video conference
was rescheduled.

How annoying.
Yeah.

What are you doing this weekend?

I've got Ali with me.
Your son?

Er, I won't be in on Monday, FYI.

Cool. Have a nice day off.
Huh! Hardly. I'm at family court.

My ex wants to move abroad with Ali.
Oh, shit.

Can't let that happen, can I?
I'll never see him.

Don't get divorced, John.
It's a nightmare.

DISHES CLINKING

Evening.
Hi.

Where's Claire?

Er, she's out for dinner
with her boss.

Chloe's just gone up.

CHLOE: 'It's nice to meet you, sir.
May I take your coat?'

Yes, thank you,
and a belated welcome to our home.

I hope you're happy here...
hope you WILL be happy here.

Very good. Shall we go to sleep?

OK.
Come on. Snuggle down.

Good night, sweetheart.

Daddy?
Yes-y?

Are you and Mummy getting a divorce?

No. Where did you hear that?

Mummy was talking to Grandma
and Grandpa G before you came home.

Mummy must have been talking
about one of her friends.

She said your name.

Are we gonna live
in different houses? No.

No, we're not gonna live
in different houses.

We're gonna live here, together.

Don't worry.

Hey.

I love you.
Love you too.

HE KISSES
Come on. Go to sleep.

FRONT DOOR OPENS

GLASS CLINKS,
LIQUID TRICKLES

You could have told me
you were going out.

SHE CHUCKLES I've been worried.

It was a work dinner.
My phone was off.

You don't have to teach me
a lesson, Claire.

I have accepted Martin's offer...

to become a partner
at the GP practice.

Congratulations.

How was the dinner?
Yeah, it was fun.

Good. Glad you had a nice time.

Martin's not actually that boring
once you get a drink inside him.

If it was a work thing, why did you
come home to get all dolled up?

Fuck off, John.

You look beautiful.

Oh, no, no, no.

You're not gonna charm your way
out of this one.

I bet he was licking his lips

offering you a new job
and a pay rise.

I earned my promotion
through hard work and graft,

with two small children
and fuck-all help from you.

HE CHUCKLES
He's always liked you.

You know what I've learned
about your job?

It's that it's given you
a suspicious and paranoid mindset.

And it's only got worse
as you got older.

Why are you gaslighting me?
Oh, I'm not gaslighting anyone.

Do you want him?
What?

Do you fancy Martin?

Why?

MIMICS JOHN:
"Don't you trust me?"

REPORTER: 'The Prime Minister
is on his way

'to the White House again
this morning

'as he steps up efforts to mediate
between the United States and Iran,

'as tensions rise again over
what Ayatollah Ali Khamenei claims

'is Iran's civilian
nuclear energy programme.

'It's been rumoured
for some time now

'that hard-line elements
have been moving against officials

'and members of the Republican Guard
who survived the Israeli bombings

'and are suspected
of betraying the regime.

'They are labelled as enemies of...'

How are you getting along,

tidying up
the Ehsan Taremi paperwork?

Swimmingly, Gregory.

I heard Simone's got something else
lined up for you.

I'm sure if she has,
I'd be the first to know.

Royal Palaces and Bollards.

There's an opportunity
at Windsor Castle.

Well, I'll look forward to throwing
a ring of steel around His Majesty.

DOOR OPENING

Rudy, son?
Chief.

Do you still keep any kit
in Technical Solutions?

What are we talking?
Tracker with a microphone.

Er, you'd have to go upstairs
for that.

And management will need
to sign that off.

Oh... could you take a look
into a Dr Martin Leonard for me?

Leonard and Partners Medical Centre.
They're over in Balham.

He's linked to the Ehsan Taremi
investigation, is he?

Look, ask no questions,
I tell no lies?

Right. OK.

I owe you a pint
of that shit hipster IPA you like.

CHUCKLES: It's all good.
I'll let you know.

This should do it for you, sir.
Nice and discreet.

Will that link to my phone?
It will.

How much is that?
That's £212, please.

HE EXHALES
Will it be cash or card?

Card, please.

Thank you.

DOG BARKS IN DISTANCE

SIREN WAILS

Do they call Craig Beeston
"The General"?

No.
Who is he, then?

I don't know, but it's not Craig.

Why was Ehsan Taremi following
that dissident, Fatemah Feyzi?

How do you know about that?

You're not the only person
I'm speaking to, mate.

SCOFFS That's hurtful, that is.

Is Craig planning a hit on Fatemah?
I wouldn't know anything about that.

You'd better start earning
this 500 quid, son.

I am.
You're not. You've given me nothing.

Ehsan was definitely asked by Craig
to watch Fatemah.

That's all I know.

And what about The General?

That's gonna cost you,
that is, mate.

You're not getting
any more money out of me.

Tell you what...
CLEARS THROAT

he's not even English.

Is he Iranian?

It's possible they wanna do Fatemah.

But only Craig and Karlson
and Wesley would know about that.

MUSIC: 'The Fear'
by Lily Allen.

UNDER BREATH: Fuck!

Jesus fucking Christ.

WESLEY: All right, go on, then.
Suit yourself.

'Ere you are, big man.
Get that down you.

Cheers, mucker.

Ah. You lose again, did you?
Shut up, mate. I was up before.

FRUIT MACHINE BEEPING

KARLSON GROANS
'Come on. How much you lost?'

'Fucking hell, I just won now!'
BANGING.

'There's 20 quid, that.
Just done 20 quid, lad.

'See you in a bit, then.'

'Laters, Dave, yeah?'
'Yeah, all right.'

'It has gone fucking dodgy
in there, mate. Hasn't it?

'Yeah, mate, hundred percent.'
'Yeah, it's fucking rough.'

'How much you down this week, then?'
'Fuck off. I'm up, I told you.'

'Good thing
another shipment's coming in.'

'That Iran stuff? Yeah. Balkan.

'Gotta go down fucking Hull
for that.'

'Aw, I fucking hate Hull.'
'That's shit.'

'Going the game, then, or what?'

'Yeah, I might do, actually,
if you've still got that box going.'

'Are you still banging that GILF
from Levenshulme?'

'Fucking cheeky bastard! GILF?'

'Well, she is a GILF, mate.'
'How is it a GILF?'

'Because she's
a fucking grandmother.'

'Yeah, fair enough, actually.

'Who the fuck
are you shagging, then?'

'No-one, mate.
Just been focus sing on myself,

'getting my grounding and that.'

'Is that it, yeah?'
'Mm.'

'What, doing the yoga and that?'
'Yeah, mate, it's just, you know...

'being at one with myself.'

'Fuck off, lad. Are you serious?'
LAUGHS.

'Lad, you can't even fucking
touch your toes. You on about?'

'No, but I can touch my heels.'
'Touch your heels, yeah?

'Gonna get into the yoga studio,
try fucking chai latte?'

'I might do, mate.

'Think about it - it's a good place
to clean the money to.'

'Could be, actually.

'Not bad.'
RADIO DISTORTS.

'Maybe I'll get one, then. Fuck it.'

'You know Craig's had me up till
three o'clock in the morning, mate.'

'So what, you lazy shit? What's up?'

'Fucking chemical supplies again.
It stinks.'

DISTORTION INTENSIFIES

'He trusts me.
He doesn't trust you.'

'Course he fucking trusts me.
What you talking about?'

'He doesn't. Or he'd have you there

'till three o'clock in the morning,
would he?'

RADIO DISTORTS

'You're a fucking liability.'

' 'Ey, shall we get a bucket
or what?

'A bargain bucket?'

'Aw, we're meeting Nico
at Shere Khan.'

'Fuck's sake, mate.
I fancied some chicken as well.'

'The Khan do
a top butter chicken, mate.'

KARLSON TRILLS LIPS
'They do, actually.'

'Can you just...?'
'Fucking hurry up?

'Do you have the bread in?

' 'Ere, you got that new bread
that they put it in the thing?'

'Oh, mate, yeah.
Fucking mint, that, innit?

'Mint.'
'Sick.

'From, er, a tan door. Tandoor oven.'

'Yeah, it's well boss.'
'Ah, it's class.

'So, who's gonna do
that removal job, then?'

'Tell you what, mate,
I don't fucking want it.'

'Oh, yeah? You don't want in on,
er, Team GB an' all?

'It's gonna be one for the books,
that, lad.

'Craig'll bounce you to fuck
as well, you little pussy.

'What you on about?'

'Do you really wanna get
anywhere near that Team GB shite?'

'Why the fuck not?'

Do you actually know what GB is,
what it stands for?

'I don't wanna be anywhere near it
when it goes off, mate.'

I tell you something for nowt -

Jordan's not gonna be
anywhere near it.

Some gob on that lad.

That boy ain't got
two brain cells to rub together.

Craig's sick of it.

What's The General's itinerary?

'Well, I heard he's flown
into Frankfurt from Tehran.

'Think he's coming in tomorrow.'

CAR HORN TOOTS
Mate, fucking Nico's here already.

'Aw, he's in that shit car again.
Fucking hate that car.

'Fucking shit, innit?'

'Aw, Karl,
I'm not getting in the back.'

'Fucking get in the back, lad.

'What you on about?'
'Fuck off. You're a dickhead, mate.'

'I go in the front,
you go in the back - always.'

'No, not always, mate.'
'Yes, always.'

RADIO DISTORTS

'This is Penelope.
Please leave a message.'

Sorry to be in touch, Pea,
but can we meet?

It's urgent. I just need a couple
of hours to get back to London.

I've got quarter of an hour, John.

How are you?
Fine.

You look really well.

You look older.

HE EXHALES Come on.

There's no need to be like that.
We had something special.

In the end,
it was a year of half-decent sex

and some overheated
texts and emails.

I got far too emotionally involved,
as did you.

You told me it was the best sex
you ever had.

I've said that to every man
I've ever been to bed with.

LAUGHS: Oh, that's cold!

What do you want, John?

I mean, frankly, I can't believe
you're still in the game.

So glad I got out when I could.

I am investigating the links

between the Manchester drugs trade
and Afghan heroin

being moved along the northern route
through Iran and on to Turkey.

I'm looking for a man
who uses the alias "The General".

I think he might be flying in
in the next few days.

I focused more
on the southern route from Herat.

There's no-one
in the intelligence community

who has a better handle on the
Iran-Afghan border than you, Pea.

Don't call me Pea.

I'm afraid anything I could tell you
is... is rather out of date.

Does "GB" mean anything to you?

It's the military designation
for the chemical weapon sarin.

And what if I was to tell you

that this senior
Iranian government official

wants to use GB on UK soil?

Now, I can't have
a proper conversation with my boss

unless I can present her
with some names

of the people who might be running
this operation.

'Do you really want to get
anywhere near that Team GB shite?'

'Why the fuck not?'

'Do you actually know what GB is,
what it stands for?

'I don't wanna be anywhere near it
when it goes off, mate.'

'I tell you something for nowt -

'Jordan's not gonna be
anywhere fucking near it.'

Beeston's probably diversifying
his narcotics business

and importing the party drug GHB.

It's GB. It's sarin.

You honestly think they'd use
a chemical nerve agent

as toxic and lethal as sarin?

All three of these senior figures
are involved with drug trafficking

along the Iranian-Afghan border.

It's reasonable to believe that
any one of them could be in business

with Craig Beeston
and the Langley Hill Crew.

Why? Why would he do this?

Well, perhaps there are hardliners
at the top in Iran

who survived the bombing,
don't want peace with the West

and want to undermine the President.

There's only one diplomatic flight
out of Tehran tomorrow -

into Frankfurt.

And an unscheduled
chartered private jet

flying into Blackpool
later on in the afternoon.

We think that's The General's
most likely connection.

Tomorrow, the counter-terrorist team
will go to Blackpool.

And you will be meeting your
new colleagues at Royal Protection.

You can't take this off me now.
I can do whatever I like.

This is the appreciation I get?
Royal Palaces and Bollards?

What a fucking joke.

I'm sorry to say this,

but this attitude
proves my point exactly.

BEESTON: Where did you get
that cash from, Jordan?

JORDAN, SHAKILY:
From my mum, I swear!

JORDAN WHIMPERS
I can smell the shite.

You've been talking
to that journalist guy.

The same one Ehsan spoke to.

I haven't, Craig.

Don't lie.

JORDAN STRAINS,
CHOKES

How many out of ten would you rate
your marriage right now?

I would say five. Honestly.

A solid five.

Two.
Two?

What's happened?

I went out for dinner with my boss,
to celebrate being made partner.

And I didn't tell him.

Yeah, but did you see
what you were wearing?

Left nothing to the imagination.
No bra.

It was like two coat pegs
on a chapel door.

Have you any idea
what a sexist dick you're being?

Oh, I'm sorry that I'm not
middle class like you.

Sometimes I say things
and I make myself cringe.

I'm sorry.

God, I feel like all I do is
apologise for myself at the moment.

It makes me feel like shit.

Why did Claire going out for dinner
make you feel insecure?

I don't feel insecure.

I know what side
my bread's buttered.

He was unfaithful to me.

You said that you would let it go.

You said that you would try
and forgive me.

Why didn't you tell John
you were going out?

Because I want him to understand
how I feel.

And do you?

John?

You seem to live
such separate lives.

But what is it you have in common?

Erm...

I empathise with what Claire does,
being a doctor.

Her integrity...

wanting to help people,
public service.

That... That sort of thing.

What was it that drew you
to each other when you met?

We had a laugh.

And there was a strong
physical connection.

What can I say? I'm a magnet.

He's always got to make a joke
of everything.

It's really annoying.

Claire's kind.

And smart.

And beautiful.

I still think she's
the most beautiful woman I know.

Hi.
MARTA: Hi.

Well, good luck
with your second date.

Oh, thank you.

Yeah, we're gonna have
a midnight picnic,

and I'm really excited.

Oh. OK.

Good night. I'll see you tomorrow.

MARTA GIGGLES

I've gotta go.

Spoil sport.
I've got to go to work.

THEY GIGGLE

Did you book to see your GP?
I will.

John, I'm worried about you.

You need to take it seriously
and get yourself checked out.

Do we need to have
haemorrhoids chat right now?

SHE CHUCKLES

Kit? Come on, mate.
PHONE PINGS

Chloe?
CHLOE: What?

Time to get up.
Oh, I don't wanna get out of bed.

I'm not getting out of bed.

RINGING TONE

Chief.
'All right? It's Jordan.

'Leave a message
after the beep, yeah?'

When's your meeting
with the Royal Protection team?

Oh, this afternoon.
Look, whatever happens with me,

can you keep a track
on Jordan's phone?

I can't get through,
and it's making me nervous.

Yeah, consider it done.

I'll miss you, Chief.

Ooh, er, that doctor you asked me
to have a look at? Shh!

A female patient made a complaint
of sexual harassment.

And he's also got form
with the Revenue over rental income

from some properties he owns
over in Spain.

Right. Thank you, Rudy, son.

I've got FOMO.

FOMO?
Oh, I'm a deeply FOMO person.

The only place in the world
I wanna be now is Blackpool.

I heard what you did yesterday.
You did it. You nailed it.

You proved every single one
of us wrong. Hm.

And managed to bag myself a new job
because of it.

Nice. What is it?

Apparently, I'll be spending the
rest of my career at Windsor Castle

making sure that nobody poisons
the King's muesli.

SHE CHUCKLES

No!
Mm.

How did it go in court?

It was a shitshow.

The judge gave me short shrift

because I wouldn't detail
my work commitments.

What?
Exactly.

I told him I would be breaching
the Official Secrets Act,

but he didn't get it.

Said family hearings are private.

Said I should be candid
about my work commitments.

The judge just didn't get it?
And he was all over my ex.

Indicated he had sympathy
Ali would be better off

moving and living full time
with his dad.

More stability, reliability.

SHE LAUGHS
I'm so sorry to hear that.

I feel like
the worst mother in the world.

Come on. Come here.

It's all right.

Thank you.

PHONE PINGS Oh, God.

Bet they're all in Blackpool now,
ready to go.

I feel like I might actually puke.

Are we getting out of here or what?

John? The tracker that I put
on Beeston's man

is in Essex, not in Blackpool.

I think The General might be
coming in to a different airport.

RINGING TONE

'This is Simone Grant.
Please leave a message.'

RINGING TONE

'To what do I owe the honour?'
Greg, we've got the wrong place.

The General's coming in
to an airport in Essex.

Epping Airfield.

That can't be right.

I've tracked
one of Beeston's men there.

We need back-up, and we need
to call the airfield.

Just do it, now.
No, John, what...

What a dick.

Rudy, son.
'Chief.'

Go on.
'The code is 7-8-6-3.

'You want hangar 4.'
Thank you.

Let's go.

CAMERA SHUTTER CLICKS

Who's that?
Hmm. Security?

I think that's him.

John!

Fuck's sake.

CAMERA CLICKS

It's him.

The General's Qasem Asadi.

OK, come on.

KARLSON: Fuck is that?

Let's go.
Oi!

Down!
Fuck!

GUNFIRE

Fuck!
GUNSHOTS.

Move!

Fuck!
Go! Go!

Come on.
GUNFIRE CONTINUES.

Hey!

SHOUTING IN FARSI

Fucking hell!

Come on.

Fucking them again!

SHOUTING

Shit!

GUNFIRE

Jesus. Women drivers!
LAUGHS: Oh, God!

Is that a service weapon?
It's a souvenir.

Souvenir? Fucking hell.
Where'd you go on holiday?

PHONE BUZZING

It's my ex.

Yeah. We're OK.

We think we've positively IDed
The General as Qasem Asadi,

but we need your help.

Can you look at everything
leaving the airfield

that ANPR picks up on the A113?

Particularly westbound
towards the M11.

'We have a problem.'
We can't lose him.

'John got a tracker on them.'
Yes. Shots were fired.

'John got eyes on Asadi,
so we're compromised.'

But don't worry.

He can still be stopped.
There's no problem.

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