Original subtitles

As two brothers briefly reunite, a daughter begins a new journey.

A boy tries to make sense of a young life lost,

and the part he had to play in it.

Threats from the past rear their heads,

and old scores need to be settled.

In a night where drinks are raised to lost loves,

and forgiveness and vengeance are sought in equal measure,

chaos comes knocking on the door,

and a promise of violence hangs heavy in the air.

They're coming in round the back. We got them out front as well.

Well, stall them here, Tyler, but don't get yourself shot!

This ain't the Alamo. Don't want to be raising a glass for you later.

Fuck that!

Fuck that. Mike, Mike!

Tyler, come on!

I'm on my way! Move!

Come on, this way!

Don't fuck it up, Tyler!

Come on, let's go!

Come on! GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!

Fuck you.

High score. High score.

They're moving kilos and kilos of coke, heroin, MDMA.

Probably guns as well.

Except you can't prove it yet.

I don't need to prove it. I know it's true.

Always a reassuring thing to hear from a policeman.

Would a pain au chocolat cheer you up? No.

Maybe.

Last night, a lorry broke down in Slough.

Nothing particularly remarkable about that,

except for when a couple of uniforms turned up to help out,

the driver pulled out a gun, started shooting at them.

Silly prick.

Turned out he had about 50 kilos of heroin in the back.

Are we thinking it's linked to my gang?

It could be connected to the Lenjani family.

Speak to Joyce. See if you can get some time with the driver.

Which one's Joyce? She's come over from CSE. She's new.

Got it.

Psst.

Chinese tonight?

What you doing, fam?

What's tricks?

Wagwan, piff ting?

What's going on? Stop it!

Bruv.

I'm going through witness statements.

Can I have my prawn crackers, please?

Do you know how they make those?

They mash the prawns up into a disgusting paste,

and then they deep-fry them. Uh-huh.

It's gross.

Mm.

Why don't you stop for the night?

Crime doesn't sleep, and neither do I.

That had better have been a joke.

It was.

It was!

Cos every time I go in there, it's like a bloody sauna.

And Dad can't stand the heat...

SURPRISE!

Happy birthday!

Jesus Christ. I almost maced you, you twats.

I think we should start getting the shots in soon.

I'm going to... I'm behaving myself today.

So...

...how old are you, then? Oh, fuck off.

He suggested this place.

We went on a date here a couple of years ago.

Yeah. He's a good lad.

He IS a good lad.

Straight-forward. You know what you're getting.

Another one of these, please.

What? Nothing. I just know you.

And what does that mean?

Look around. Your friends, your team.

Good food, good wine, good laughs.

Good God, get to the point. Just saying.

This is it.

This is what it's all about.

It's a very nice party, Steve.

Happy birthday.

What were you and Angling talking about all night?

Nothing.

It looked serious.

I'm a serious man.

Seriously...

...stupid.

I see you've honed your razor-sharp wit to a devastating point.

Wine.

Good wine.

Good wine, good food, good laughs.

What?

Nothing. OK.

Happy birthday.

Thank you.

Oh.

Where are you going?

Bedroom. No!

Here.

What's wrong with the bedroom?

Boring.

Thanks very much.

Aw, no, I didn't mean...

What?

What's the matter?! What's the matter with you?

Nothing!

I'd like my boyfriend to fuck me over the kitchen counter

once in a while. I'm not asking for the moon on a stick, Ian.

Where are you going?

I'm tired.

Aw, fuck sake!

Good weekend, Roy?

Not really.

Found out our dog's got diabetes.

Bloody loved that dog.

What do you think of Joyce?

Seems all right. She's from Brighton.

So?

Nothing.

Just never really met anyone from Brighton

that wasn't secretly a bit of a twat is all.

Oh, right, yeah.

Maybe. I don't really know.

Who's A?

Just an informant.

You shouldn't give them your personal number.

This guy's harmless.

Don't worry.

Where were you?

Drinks with Steve.

I should have called. I'm sorry.

It's this fucking case.

You started smoking again?

Just the odd one.

It's bad for you.

If it was really bad, they'd put a big warning on the pack.

How's the case?

Going nowhere.

Do you ever think about how everything we do

is an echo of something?

Like, how everything we've done is going to happen again,

and... everything we're going to do has already happened somewhere else.

And we're all just...

...dancing around each other like atoms,

and we can't even stroke a hair from our face

without it affecting the lives of a billion people.

Like, how... every tiny split second decision we make

can potentially have a vast, profound effect

on everyone around us.

And maybe it's all planned.

Everything that is going to happen was always going to happen,

as if we're all being moved by this mad conductor.

We've all been here before.

Just one endless round and round.

It's something we can't control.

All we can do is hang on

and hope it sets us down in a better place than it picked us up.

Yeah, or maybe you're stoned.

How's Ian?

Meh.

Distant.

Like the distant ripples on a pond thrown up by the stones of fate.

No, like a prick

who can't tell his fucking girlfriend where he is.

Hey.

You all right?

Another drink?

No. I'm all right with this.

See you later, all right? Bye.

Kilo Two Three Zero, requesting back up.

Suspect's on the move, east down Stoker Street.

Your boy got 'em, Weitzmann. Bloody got 'em.

Oleee-ole-ole!

Go on, Ian, get in there!

Ole-e! Ole-e!

Oleee-ole-ole-ole!

Ole, ole!

Sir, I need to talk to you about something.

Thank you. I can manage.

OK.

What was all that about?

Listen, Joyce, it's really all I can do to stop myself

punching you in the fucking face right now,

so probably best if you don't speak or look at me again.

OK?

Detective Weitzmann, can you describe for the court

what you saw on the morning of the 14th of January 2018?

I saw the defendant handing an object to a mid-thirties

white male that came to the door of a flat on the high street.

Do you know who owns that flat?

Yes.

It's owned by Mr Ivan Lenjani, who was under investigation

at the time, suspected of drug trafficking and firearm offences.

All rise.

Has the jury reached a verdict?

We have.

Do you find the defendant guilty or not guilty?

Guilty.

The conviction of Met detective Ian Summers

for the planting of false evidence has led to the release from prison

of Albanian national Ivan Lenjani,

who was previously sentenced for drug trafficking.

Sarah.

Sarah, look at me.

Fucking look at me!

You'll regret this.

Get the fuck off! You'll fucking regret this!

DC Summers was found guilty of perverting the course

of justice and was today handed a six year sentence.

Come here! Move! Move!

Argh!

Get inside now. Move! Move! Move!

Go on!

Move it! Shit!

Go, go, go!

Armed police. Drop your weapons! Drop your weapons!

Ah!

Yuto.

Move!

Do you ever think about how everything we do

is an echo of something?

Like how everything we've done is going to happen again.

And everything we're going to do has already happened somewhere else.

Like every action we take is the consequence

of a thousand different actions,

and will result in a thousand more actions after it.

That every tiny split second decision we make...

...could potentially have a vast,

profound effect on everyone around us.

Or maybe it's all planned.

Everything that was going to happen was always going to happen.

As if someone was moving us all,

like this mad conductor.

Come on.

We've all been here before.

Just one endless round and round,

it's something we can't control.

All we can do is hang on and hope it sets us down

in a better place than it picked us up.