All language subtitles for The Capture - 03x03 - The Scarecrow.RAWR.English.updated.Addic7ed.com

The Home Secretary, Isaac Turner,

was shot and fatally wounded by a gunman.

Have you got the shooter?

It's not him.

Deputy Commander Carey,

Allow me to introduce Commander
Pierson, our new Head of SO15.

- That is the man that shot Isaac Turner.
- OK...

Escort Mr Pierson
to additional vetting.

Security check?

The scanner identified
a foreign object

inside the individual's
upper torso.

Armed Support to Security!

- I would delete that one if I were you.
- What the f...

We have a deal.

Why would I do you a favour?

So I can owe you one.

Face match, ma'am. 97.8%.

- On Pierson?
- No, ma'am.

On the gunman. James Whitlock.

Ten o'clock news, we name
James Whitlock as our suspect.

James Whitlock?

I told you he should
never have been let out.

I saw you kill Isaac Turner.
And you know I did.

Why don't we bring this sideshow to
a close and get on with the job?

You and I have a rather
important case to solve.

Think we know where to find him.
You heading down there?

- Of course.
- You can jump in with me.

Where's Armed Support?
Where's Uniform?

They'll be here any second.

- Then we wait.
- And risk Whitlock escaping?

You better come and see this.

Simmer down, Wildcat.
You're not going anywhere.

You should've killed me
when you had the chance.

Are we agreed on the parameters?

Fast-Track, when have you ever
known me to not respect boundaries?

I mean it, Frank.

- This is not a CIA black site.
- It's not? The trouble you're in,

this had better be a CIA black site.

Have you found nothing on him?

Piece of shit doesn't leave a mark.

Can you at least get into his phone?

Oh, I'm sorry, Wizard.

She doesn't know who you are.

Did you get into the phone?
Is there a tracker?

Find it, divert it.

No-one's tracking this device.

Are you sure? He didn't
firewall his device for no reason.

He's got to have something on there
he doesn't want us to see.

Yeah, maybe this...

What the hell is that?

Does he have a pacemaker?

He has an implant in his chest,
yeah.

Your prime suspect
has a heart problem?

Fast-Track, something's off here.
I mean a spook, maybe...

- Special Forces?
- Cattle prod didn't trouble him too much.

- Yeah, well, we can always up the voltage.
- Frank!

You want to find out who this
asshole is, let me do my thing, OK?

- Would you let me do my thing?
- Covert interrogation.

- No contact.
- I won't touch a hair on his head.

His car's clean.

Kilo Three, Kilo One.

Brecknock Farm. Arrival.

Kilo One. I'm on my way.

I need to show my face.

That other boy? Whitlock?

You know James Whitlock?

I know everybody.

Apparently not.

Trust me, Frank,

you need to proceed
with extreme caution.

I've seen what this man
is capable of.

What about you, Wizard?

You see a killer?

Alpha One to all units.

Brecknock Farm.
Rear perimeter secured.

Approaching Whitlock
caravan from the south.

Foxtrot Two, copy.

Farm building's clear.
No sign of movement.

Armed police! Armed police!
Armed police! Clear!

- Right clear!
- Caravan clear!

Unit's clear, ma'am.

We'll be there in 15, ma'am.

Tom?

Wait one second, caller.

DC Tan,
command of the room is yours.

Understood.

Take it you can talk, ma'am?

Yeah, Commander Pierson's

following a new
lead in the investigation.

OK.

You're overdue an update on
our extra-curricular surveillance.

I didn't realise you were still
helping me, Tom.

That's uncalled for,
Carey. I'm on your side,

whatever that side is.
There's nothing in the rule book

that says I have to agree
with every word you say.

Fair.

Well, if you do want to help me,
figure out how the fuck Noah Pierson

managed to correct
one of our Operation Veritas feeds.

I'll run checks again, but this
might have to be one of those

points of disagreement
I'm talking about.

If someone fucked with the
Veritas feeds, I'd know about it.

So unless he's
got a twin brother,

I'm inclined to believe that
Noah Pierson

was in Coal Drops Yard
at the time Isaac Turner was shot.

You might believe differently
if you'd seen it with your own eyes.

What's the surveillance update?

It's Bronx Zoo.

Go on.

We've lost eyes-on.

- How the hell did that happen?
- He managed to give

his detail the slip at some
point last night.

Might have something to do
with resources being stretched,

what with the manhunt taking
priority. We're running Facial Rec.

Shouldn't we be?

No, of course.

Good work.

On second thoughts,

Tom, you know, you're right.

Resources.
Napier's just not a priority.

- OK.
- Let's focus on White Rabbit.

She's got to be involved.

Yeah, about White Rabbit,
she made contact with Cash Flow.

When?

We tracked her vehicle to his
home address, 10.25 last night.

After the news broke about Whitlock?

They met in a blind spot.
The eyeball couldn't get close.

Increase surveillance
coverage on both targets.

Get a trojan into their phones.

- Update me whenever there's movement.
- Understood.

But you have to understand
there's only

so much I can do whilst we keep up
the pressure on the Whitlock front.

Don't worry, Tom.
The ops room's yours.

You won't have anyone breathing
down your neck for a while.

Welcome aboard
flight 101 to an undisclosed location

outside the legal
jurisdiction of the United Kingdom.

We'll be cruising at an altitude
that makes breathing uncomfortable,

and our flight time will be as long
as it takes to break you.

If you are sitting next to
an emergency exit, my advice? Jump.

Thank you for flying CIA

and we hope you enjoy
the in-flight entertainment.

Kilo Three to Control.

- Go ahead?
- Brecknock Farm is clear.

No eyes on target. Repeat.

No eyes on Whitlock.

- Got the phone, Kilo Three?
- Yep, we've got the phone.

- Uploading now.
- Got more than that.

Kilo Three to Kilo One.

Ma'am, are you close?

You all right, ma'am?

Yeah, course.

What have you got for me?

You've got to see this.

The property backs onto
a shooting range.

Shooting range?

Whitlock applied for membership.

They told him
it was a long waiting list.

It was their way of putting him
off, apparently.

They said that some of their members
didn't take too kindly

to "fake squaddies".

When was the last time
anyone saw him?

The last time they saw his van
parked here was yesterday morning.

He hasn't returned since the time
of the attack on Isaac Turner.

Ma'am...

He's been planning something.

_

_

Suspect's phone download complete.

- 64 gigabyte of video files.
- Load them and scan them.

Let's find out what Jamie Whitlock's
got to say for himself.

OK, July 20th.

Home Office says... 68 total.

Simon says, 101.

- Control, Kilo Three?
- Go ahead.

Got a green Transit van
registered to a Stuart Whitlock.

- Medway, Kent.
- Yeah, that's the uncle.

Foxtrot Delta 57
Uniform Alpha Oscar.

- Run an ANPR.
- Happening.

Control, we need to authenticate
these Home Office documents.

Did Whitlock get
hold of them legally

or has he hacked the Home Office?

- Received.
- Understood.

What's his phone given us?

Last activity yesterday morning.

Exchange of messages,
encrypted then deleted.

- Recover them.
- In progress, ma'am.

Whitlock's been a busy boy online.

Home Office says, 82.

Simon says, 157.

He's been busy here, too.

- Busy doing what exactly?
- Reconnaissance?

Reconnaissance for...?

None of this is Westminster.

His escape.

- Kilo One, Control.
- Ma'am?

Call Comms.
Put out an All-Ports Warning.

And issue an arrest warrant
for James Whitlock.

I was listening to that.

Guantanamo FM.

Doesn't seem to trouble
you too much.

You got yourself some coping
mechanisms.

Can't beat the old classics.

Dentist drilling?

Although I'd have to go
with a newborn baby screaming.

How about Americans speaking?

I wish to see
Deputy Commander Carey.

Can't allow it.

Whatever she's told you about me,
she's mistaken.

Is she?

Well, I gotta say, I'm intrigued.

I mean, two days ago,
you didn't exist.

Now...

Now you run Counter-Terrorism.

Who are you, pal? Who sent you?

The Gods?

I am Commander Noah Pierson, SO15.

You are falsely imprisoning
a Senior British Police Officer.

Or someone who's impersonating one.

- Is that what she's accused me of?
- Hm, it's on the list.

You know, just cos somebody gives
you a badge, doesn't make you a cop.

I mean, we both know you're a plant.

Question is, who planted you?
Moscow? Beijing?

Quite the leaps we're making.

I mean, you can't be
British Intelligence.

I can't?

Our paths would've crossed.

- Would they?
- MI6 spooks come with a legend.

You're not a banner agent.
You're a blank page.

Where did you grow up?
Where did you go to school?

What makes you the man
you are today?

How many people have you killed
in combat?

You Special Forces, son?

Your deputy seems to think you are.

Well...

I never met a marine
with a heart murmur.

Is that a recent accessory?

Something happen on tour?

Somebody break your heart?

I wish to see
Deputy Commander Carey.

And I wish to see Asia.

I wish to see Japan...

with all of the cherry blossoms
that fall in...

in the spring.

No! God!

The manhunt for James Whitlock
has intensified this afternoon

as police believe
the Westminster suspect

may be attempting to flee
the country via the South Coast.

Control to all units.
I repeat, Flight-Risk Alert.

All-Ports Warning in effect.

Be advised, suspect is dangerous
and may be armed.

Tide times.

I don't think you'll find him
at the ports, ma'am.

I reckon he's planned
on using a small boat.

He's printed tidal forecasts for
every beach in Kent.

So, he could be setting off from...?

Any one of them,
if he knows what he's doing.

If he knows what he's doing,

why did he leave his escape plans
hanging on the wall?

What are all these
marks along the coast?

- Control, Kilo One?
- Go ahead.

We've recovered Whitlock's encrypted
messages, ma'am.

And?

I think it's fair to say
he's not working alone.

- He's been receiving instruction.
- From?

The number's saved in his
contacts under the name "Simon".

That name's coming up a lot.

Simon says, 66.

What was his most recent message,
the one received yesterday morning?

"If you're interested
in properties by the sea

"Abbot's Cliff is nice."

As codes go, it's hardly Enigma.

We think he might be trying to
escape using a small boat.

There's four coves to choose from.

Search Teams
and Firearms Support

- to Abbot's Cliff, Kent.
- On their way, ma'am.

All units, repeat, all...

Firearm Support to
Abbot's Cliff in Kent.

That's Abbot's Cliff in Kent.

Ma'am, it looks like there's
a lot of talk between Simon

and Whitlock about a big event on the 17th.

Yesterday.

The day of the attack.

He's not trying to escape
the country for no reason, ma'am.

Abbot's Cliff. We're on our way.

You hanging in there, Boy Scout?
Heart-rate, normal.

Blood pressure, OK.

Everything seems to be
ticking in that little box of yours.

Where's Rachel Carey?

You know, I'm starting to think,

maybe that thing is not
a chink in your arm our after all.

Is that what's keeping your pulse
rate so even, RoboCop?

If I'm to be interrogated, I'd like
the Deputy Commander present.

Or are you just a stone-cold killer?

Another accusation.

I think you ought to know...

Rachel Carey may not
be of sound mind.

You a shrink?

Don't have to be
a psychiatrist to be

concerned about a colleague's
mental health.

She has suffered a profound trauma.
She deserves professional help.

But whatever accusations

she may have flung around should be
treated with caution,

and certainly not form
the basis of covert action!

Whoops.

Do you trust her judgment?

I don't trust, period.

But one thing about Rachel Carey,

when she gets an idea in her head,

often times there's something to it.

Brilliant.

Meanwhile, there's a killer
out there.

Either that, or he's in here.

Sure.

You got me. I'm a stone-cold killer.

Ma'am, are we on the same page?

Are we looking for the same suspect?

We are looking for James Whitlock.

He's involved one way or another.

We need to find him and get him
in a cell, either way.

You still think he was set up?

The news footage corrected?

I'm not expecting you
to agree with me.

I'm not sure what
I found harder to watch,

you insisting that our new boss
was the killer, or you buckling.

I did not buckle.

I have not buckled.

Khadija, your lawyer's
on the line again?

No, I'm calling as a friend.

I thought I'd call you
and see how you were

- after last night.
- What do you mean?

Well, I would say once more with
feeling, but we only get one.

I've seen more
conviction on the faces

of hostages in ISIS videos.

You still think Whitlock
is fake news, don't you?

Nothing I said in that press
statement is untrue.

We are looking for James Whitlock.

This is me you're talking to.

I understand the art of sticking
closely to the truth

when you're lying.
I do this for a living!

We're looking for Whitlock.

OK... Well,
if you stumble across

any exclusives to the contrary,

or any exclusives at all,

you know where to find me.

Are we still friends?

So long as it's purely
transactional.

Yeah, of course.

Control to Kilo One.

Go ahead.

Ma'am, it looks like Whitlock got
hold of those Home Office

documents via
Freedom of Information requests.

He made a total of nine
requests during his time in prison.

Nine Freedom of Information
requests?

It sounds like Whitlock had
it in for the Home Office.

He accused the Government
of covering up the true stats

on undocumented migrants.

Fair to say, it's something of an
obsession for the lad.

Whitlock's 4chan account, ma'am,
de-activated last month.

- Because?
- Sending you the post

that got him
kicked off the platform.

Our history books say the last land
invasion of England was 1066.

In actual fact, the last land
invasion of England was

yesterday morning at 9.45,
when a boat,

carrying 40 undocumented male
migrants landed in Dungeness, Kent.

Now, that is 40, four-zero,
fighting-age illegal male migrants.

Now a land invasion
is an act of war.

Right, in war,
civilians are allowed to fight back.

We're supposed to fight back.

And the next time a boatload of
fighting-age males

lands on our shores...

we'll be ready.

Turn the car around.

- Kilo One, Control.
- This is our land.

It's our duty to defend it.

Go ahead, ma'am.

It's not an escape plan.

If the authorities won't do it...

what are we going to do, eh?

What are you going to do?

- Tactical Command, with me.
- Ma'am.

How many World War II bunkers
on the coast of Kent? Roughly.

- 50? 100?
- 100 at least.

That's what these are.

Search Teams deploy to 27 East,

39 North,
West Cove, Abbot's Cliff.

Armed police!

Interlock your fingers!

Put your hands on your head!

Drop down to your knees!
Cross your feet over!

Target detained.

Repeat, target detained.

- Has he been searched?
- Secure!

Suspect detained, ma'am.

He's been handed over
to your arrest teams.

No shots fired.

Just as well.

Suspect was found in possession
of an unlicensed firearm,

a long-range rifle.

With every intent to use it.

Outstanding work.

- Rachel?
- Khadija.

You want an exclusive?

I'm listening.

How's the bladder holding up?
You need a potty break?

Excellent prostate control.

Cherish that.

I'm still not sure
what it is you do.

- You can't be US Intelligence.
- Can't?

Our paths would've crossed.

For a minute, I thought you might
be

Rachel Carey's Republican
uncle or something,

you know, in from out of town.

If I'm this stone-cold
killer you say I am,

what chance would you
have of getting me to talk?

I have my various ways.

So has my friend Jean-Paul here.

You remember Jean-Paul.

He's the one that took
you down with a cattle prod.

Jean-Paul, say hello.

Go fuck yourself.

Yeah, Jean-Paul can get very cranky
when we... when we push lunch.

Figures.

Bound to encroach
on the afternoon nap. Argh!

30,000 volts are going
through you right now.

Jean-Paul,
what's the highest it goes to?

High as an angel's left tit.

Oh, God. Jean-Paul,

he's not really up on
what he's not supposed to say.

He's also not really up on what
he's not supposed to do.

Health and Safety gone mad.

Hard to keep up.

Is that a Parisian accent,
Jean-Paul,

or are you from the Dordogne?

Deputy Commander Carey,

you are complicit in illegal
interrogation,

and you are complicit in torture.

You can stop this!

Who the fuck are you talking to?

If you guarantee my safety,
I will speak to you,

but you alone!

For God's sake, I mean, haven't you
done enough to the poor woman?

You got something to say,
why don't you say it to me?

Sorry.
I don't talk to strangers.

Prick.

You know, if you'd come to me
in the beginning,

you wouldn't be in this mess.

You do know about the
"special relationship", don't you?

Well, if you are British
Intelligence,

we're on the same side, asshole.

"We"?

Langley...

For fuck's sake.

Now I get it.

You get what?

You're a Scarecrow.

They left you out in the field.

The term you're trying to
think of is Field Agent,

as in,
the "lifeblood of the Agency".

You know a lot
of things can be done online now?

Well, not everything.

If I want to talk to the CIA,
I'm calling Langley.

You want the Pope, call the Vatican,

not some crumbling parish outpost
with a dying priest.

Scarecrows...

I used to love hearing
stories about you guys.

Wasn't there a station chief
in Paris who ran his ops room

out of a brothel?

Berlin.
And it was... above a brothel.

Holy shit! That was you?

Yeah, it was a kompromat factory.

Now if you want to find out what
somebody eats for breakfast,

you bug a cafeteria.
If you want to find out

what somebody will flip over,

you bug a whorehouse.

Well, I can't imagine why
they reassigned you.

You just get here? Apparently,
the last guy overstayed his welcome.

Real old-school, paranoid.

He'd tear down his ops room every
other week, move it from one

junkyard to another, never tell
the Embassy where he was going next.

Sounds like quite
a sensible fellow to me.

Kind of a legend, kind of a dick,

kind of a scumbag,
if you believe the rumours.

They say the reason he worked
off-radar was the Abu Ghraib shit

he had going on in the basement.

- Tittle-tattle.
- I feel like the guy's name was Dick.

Have I made that up? Dick? Or Bob, or...

- Frank?
- Frank! That's it!

Frank... Napper?

- Careful there, Boy Scout.
- Nipper?

Frank...

Napier.

Frank Napier.

I breathe rarefied air.

Well, for now, you do.

I'm sorry I called you a dick.

Whoa, wait a second...

Aren't you the one who got
played by Rachel Carey?

More gossip.

Oh, you're quite the yenta,
aren't you?

Didn't she expose Correction
on your watch? That's got to sting.

I would wait for the report to come
out before I rush

- to conclusions on that one.
- Sorry, but how are you still here?

And you're working with
Rachel Carey again,

- hasn't she humiliated you enough?
- How about this?

How about I ask the questions
and you give the answers?

Why don't you bring
Rachel Carey down from up on high,

- and maybe we can get somewhere...?
- Because she is not here!

- Wizard, play the hits.
- No...

Movement.

Cash Flow is mobile.

DC Tan,
command of the room is yours.

Eyes on target.

Cash Flow on the move.

All Surveillance Units
be advised.

Cash Flow is high-profile
and highly trained.

Eyeball on target.

Least he was once.

Fast-Track.

"Regular updates," I said.

Oh, I thought you were calling me.

Any developments I need
to know about?

Well, earlier I thought your boy
was a piece of shit,

now I think he's a fucking
piece of shit.

So, I guess you can call that
a development.

Why isn't he talking?
What's taking so long?

Khalid Sheikh Mohammed
took 20 years.

You might need to, um... rein it in.

What the fuck are you talking about?

We've arrested James Whitlock.

Oh.

- You think maybe you got this wrong?
- No, I didn't say that.

Just, um...

might need to take
the heat off until I know more.

Well, I wish I could, Fast-Track,
but we're kind of on a roll here.

I mean, I'm boiling a lobster,

can't take him
out of the pot until he's done.

Frank! Noah Pierson is my suspect.

You're not the only one this
concerns any more, Fast-Track.

This has gotten personal.

Fra...!

KENDRICKS, OVER RADIO: Kilo Two, Kilo One.

Fuck!

Tom, go ahead.

You said to update you
whenever there was movement?

- Yes?
- Cash Flow is mobile.

Do not lose eyes-on.

Ma'am.

Lima Nine to Control. Cash Flow
heading east on Ramilies Road.

Police say they have
averted a second mass shooting

by the Westminster suspect,
James Whitlock.

Whitlock, wanted in connection
with the murder of Isaac Turner,

has been arrested
on multiple charges.

Target stopping.

Keep eyes-on.

Kilo One?

Tom.

We've got another meeting.

Cash Flow's at White Rabbit's
home address.

Get into their devices.
I want to hear every word.

Already on it.

Cash Flow's phone is off.

What about White Rabbit's?

Seconds away, sir.

Cup of tea?

A very weak Earl Grey.

Lots of milk.

Into the phone.

- Activate onboard mic.
- Activating.

Shall we take our tea
into the other room?

I can't hear myself think in here!

Bollocks.

You ready to talk?

Heart rate's finally up.

That gizmo giving out on you?

Look, Frank...

you were right.

I was?

You and me,

we're on the same team.

Of course we are.

You understand.

We both gave up our shot
at normal life, didn't we?

We chose to live in the shadows...

without a flicker of recognition.

Without so much as a "Thank
you for your fucking service"!

They pass us on the street,
don't they? They don't know!

How could they?

They have no idea the sacrifices
we've made to keep the world

- a safer place.
- I have given two marriages to this shit.

So, one unsung hero to
another, I'm asking you to do me

a solid, Frank. I need to reach
Deputy Commander Carey

as a matter of urgency.

You need a ride,
or you good to get the bus?

Tell me where she is. We walk away.

This never happened.

You think I'm going to let you
walk away, now,

after you just started talking?

Am I talking, Frank?!

I've given you nothing.

You've given me your name,
half the places you've worked,

how many wives you've had.

Who's interrogating who?

Well, maybe you'll be a little bit
more forthcoming

with 50,000 volts up your ass.

I just told you we're on the same
side!

Prove it.

Well, it's not that simple!

Argh! God!

Who do you work for?

Even if I tried to explain it,
you wouldn't understand...

How many more blows to the heart
before your fuse blows, huh?

For God's sake, Frank!

Surely you must be familiar with
the concept of "need to know"?!

- What about it?
- Well,

and I cannot emphasise
this enough, there is

- a lot you don't need to know!
- What if I want to know?

You're almost out of the game.

Why fill your head with facts you're
not going to need

in the CIA nursing home?

You've served your country, and her
allies, now with the greatest

respect, Frank, take a bow
and fuck off!

Before you do...

be a mensch.

Let me go?

You almost had me.

Was it mensch? Was it too much?

It was a little too much.

I take it back.

Forget I said anything. Just...

Let me out of here, please!

Nah.

Wait... No! You don't understand!

I need...

Boss?

What the fuck?
It can't have been the cattle prod.

It can't?

You just put 50,000 volts
through him, Frank.

What are you, Amnesty International?
What the fuck is the protocol, huh?

I mean, what do we do?

What, do we jump start the engine?
What do we do?!

Phone...

He wants his phone.

Well, we're not calling
a fucking ambulance!

I think he's got
something on his phone.

- What the...?
- Wizard! Phone!

What the fuck are you saying, asshole?

The app, the pacemaker app.
It needs a code.

- Well, can't you hack it?
- If you give me a few minutes...

Does he look like he has
a few minutes?!

You know what, fuck it!
Cut his arm loose.

If you're a leftie, son,
you're out of fucking luck.

No way.

After an extensive
search operation in Kent,

suspect in the Westminster
attack, James Whitlock,

was detained by
police earlier today.

Well, no doubt residents
across London

and the South East
will rest easier

knowing that James
Whitlock is inside

a Maximum Security
cell tonight,

and no longer
a threat to public safety.

Deputy Commander Carey,

are you pleased to have
found your suspect so quickly?

Was this a racially
motivated attack?

Rachel?

Paige...

Rested?

Yeah, er, no, not really.
Um, sorry, did you, brief the BBC?

I didn't want to take
advantage of you.

I thought you needed the rest,
so I didn't want to bother you.

That's really naughty.

Everything is supposed
to go through me.

I thought you'd be happy.

First bit of news that doesn't make
us look like idiots all week.

Now maybe everyone can leave me
alone for five minutes,

while I try and solve this case.

Doors closing.

Make your way to the scanner,
please.

This way.

Take your shoes off please, sir.

Suspect now with Security
for Scan and Search.

- James Whitlock is in custody, ma'am.
- Outstanding result, ma'am.

It's quite a charge sheet this
dickhead's chalked up.

We haven't even
started on Westminster.

Tom, how's the surveillance?
What's the update?

Guvnor's looking for you.

- Yates?
- Pierson.

Rachel!

Excellent timing!

Just got back a moment ago myself.

With rather less to show for my
efforts than you, I must admit!

Congratulations, Rachel.

You've got your man!

- Well done, ma'am.
- Well done, ma'am.

Now all you need to do is get
a confession out of the bastard,

so we can all go home.

You don't mind if I watch,
do you?

I'm sure you two can break a
scumbag like Whitlock in your sleep.

It'll be an education for me.

Of course.

- Tom, resume work on Veritas.
- Ma'am.

Uh, command of the room is yours,
sir.

Tom.

Rachel...

You all right?
You look like you've seen a ghost.

Don't worry. Nothing's going to come
back to haunt you.

At least,
I can't imagine why it would.

You and I should probably
have a good... catch up.

As soon as we... come up for air.

You know, a really good
heart-to-heart.

There's only one way
through this, Rachel.

For me and for you.

What's that?

Together.

Right, before we start, I'd just
like to confirm

that you're James Whitlock,

of 18 Moors Drive,
Lewisham, South London...

Does he look like he has
a few minutes?!

You know what, fuck it!
Cut his right arm loose.

If you're a leftie, son,
you're out of fucking luck.

Secure the prisoner.

Wow, at times like these, you really
find out who you can count on.

I thought somebody might show up.

We're all alone in this world,
Frank.

Nobody's coming for you or me, pal.

The only fucker you can
count on is yourself.

Do you want to save yourself, Frank?
Tell me where she is.

Rachel Carey.

Sorry, asshole.
I don't talk to strangers.

What have I got to do to
short-circuit this prick?! Wizard!

Wizard! Gun! Wizard, you
chicken shit! Get the fucking gun!

No hard feelings, eh, Frank?

That shit I gave you, before...

about being a Scarecrow?

You deserve better than that.

You're not the only one who's been
left out in the field, Frank!

I guess we all get left
out in the field... in the end...

Wizard, you traitorous piece
of shit, open the door!

Wizard, you motherless prick!
Open the fucking door!

At least you can't say nobody
said it, Frank.

Frank...

Thank you for your service.

Sync & corrections: bird
www.addic7ed.com ~