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[Owen] You have to believe me. Please.
Stop, stop, stop, stop. Wait, wait, wait.
Wait, wait. [muffled grunting]
-[screams] -[Blair] Is Owen okay?
[Henry] He's alive.
[Naomi] The Popeye file
has just become category one.
Focus efforts on getting closer.
We already know he's interested in you.
[Henry] I called for your execution.
Bosko favors resurrection.
He trusts you. I do not.
[Martian] Viking's running
a sophisticated, large-scale international op,
turning diamonds into geopolitical control.
This guy's like us.
Trained by professionals.
* tense music *
[Sami crying]
[Blair] It's Blair. Can we meet?
Southwark Cathedral.
[Bosko] Congratulations, Brandon.
You're officially a ghost.
* "Love is Blindness" by Jack White playing *
* Love is blindness *
* I don't want to see *
* Won't you wrap the night *
* Around me *
* Oh, my heart *
* Love is blindness *
* Blindness *
* Love is blindness *
* I don't want to see *
* Won't you wrap the night *
* Around me, yeah *
* Oh *
* My love *
* Love is blindness *
* Oh, love is blindness *
* Oh, blow out the candle *
* Blindness *
* Rachmaninoff's "Blessed Is the Man" playing *
***
***
-[gasps] -Sami.
We're in a church.
A Muslim and an atheist. Who cares?
I'm followed everywhere.
I know.
They have my family.
-Let me help you. -No one can help me.
I have a plan.
Who is here with you in London?
There is a man. They call him Saeed.
An Emirati.
He's a spy like you.
* uneasy music *
Saeed had them lead me into a courtyard.
They put a gun to the back of my head
and they pulled the trigger.
When I think of our days and nights together in Addis...
Who were those people?
They're here, now.
Not me.
I didn't survive what they did to me.
[Martian] Blair, can I speak to you for a second?
What's up?
Does the agency know you organized a meeting
between Sami and me?
No.
When do you plan to tell them?
Are you kidding?
Do you realize what you've done?
I thought I was doing you a favor.
You initiated contact between a target
and an agent under investigation. Why?
Out of personal initiative?
Did any superior know about it?
-You're my superior. -I'm under suspicion.
I-I thought you'd be pleased.
You have to tell Bosko.
-Fucking... -There are rules.
They exist to protect you, the mission, the Company.
[softly] Fuck.
Sorry.
Listen very carefully.
This is precisely what you'll say,
word for word.
-*** -[dialogue inaudible]
[door opens]
Okay. Go ahead.
[clears throat] You were aware
I was looking into the NGO
that obtained Dr. Samia Zahir's release?
To assess for possible foreign influence?
Yes, no. What are you talking about?
Samia guessed I was Company.
There's a surprise.
[scoffs] Then what?
She asked to see Martian?
Yeah.
And you told Martian.
Yes.
Okay. Well, congratulations.
This is a whole new scale of fuckup, even for you.
From now on, you report to me
on anything to do with Samia Zahir.
Martian's not involved anymore. You understand?
You know if they made contact?
I don't know. I think so.
You do? 'Cause I think so, too.
She asked me for protection.
From whom?
Osman Abdel-Aziz.
High-ranking Sudanese agent
and liaison between UAE intelligence,
the Saudis, the Chinese and his own agency.
Fucker's back in London?
I don't know how long he's been here, but, uh--
Okay, we're done. You can go.
You did the right thing.
Don't get me wrong, you're still a terrible fucking agent,
but it shows...
Actually, just go, go.
[Danny] There were these two locations and they were kind of
the same data as this one that we found here.
[phone ringing]
Oh, one second.
Hello?
[Hassan] Are you a witch?
[chuckles] Damn. You got me.
I'm not talking
Harry Potter, I'm talking Macbeth.
[laughs] Are you high?
High on whatever magic you've unleashed.
Oh, whoa, whoa, hey. Whoa, slow down. [chuckles]
This weekend,
I have to go to Bahrain.
Energy conference.
Dad can't make it, I'm taking his place.
Come with me.
Five-star hotel, champagne, caviar, hot tub.
You want me to jump on a flight to Bahrain tonight?
No, I'm friends with the son of the sultan.
He's sending his plane.
The prince of Brunei?
Yeah, he's a good friend of mine. He was at Columbia
when I was at Cornell.
I can introduce you. You'll like him.
[scoffs]
Okay, Romeo.
Deal.
[indistinct chatter]
[Naomi clears throat]
[woman chuckles softly]
Hassan's going to some conference in Bahrain.
He's invited Gremlin.
Yeah, we know. We're all over it.
Can I have a word?
Sure.
To be continued.
What's up?
Who's the influencer?
Uh, Katie? Well, she's just there to hook him,
then someone else will do the pitch.
Craig.
-Did you choose this girl? -How is that relevant?
[scoffs] See, this is why men shouldn't be allowed
to choose a honey trap.
You want someone who is plausible.
You jealous?
Spycraft is harder than this, Craig.
You drop Katie into a conference full of bored execs,
you draw heat that won't go away.
Don't fuck up months of Gremlin's precision work.
Come up with a real approach.
I'm running this recruitment. Not you.
Then get it right.
You go. You do it.
Fine. I hear you.
Still on for dinner tonight?
Eight o'clock.
* pulsing music *
[Martian] The diamond supply chain starts
in the mountains of Central African Republic.
In exchange for propping up weak regimes,
the government has gradually ceded control
of their most valuable resources to the Russians.
Valhalla activity focused around the Agbado mine
before it was depleted and operations there ceased.
They're now pulling stones out of four other mines,
in Koki, here in Naidok and Yanga and in Daima.
All these regions are banned from export
by the Kimberley Process,
so Valhalla smuggles diamonds onto the world market
through a wholesale dealer based in the diamond quarter
of Antwerp.
This man.
Mikkel de Bruyne.
He cuts rough diamonds
and fakes paperwork to say they originated in South Africa,
Australia or Canada,
before selling the largest
and most valuable stones into the supply chain
to other wholesalers
where they're further legitimized
by new invoices from those other companies.
Somewhere in this chain,
or in the return cash flow, we find a weakness.
A weak link to insert an agent or recruit an asset
who puts us next to Viking.
[Blair] Follow money. Follow people.
Push hard.
Happy hunting.
-[keys clatter] -[door closes]
Pop, I'm sorry.
I only just got your message.
You forgot.
I feel like an idiot.
Don't say that.
You're making it worse.
Okay.
I found that when I was waiting.
You don't know what it is, do you?
Christmas present. Last year.
It's the journal I sent you, and it's completely blank.
-No, it's not. -Yeah, it is.
It's not. Look.
Well, you know what they say. Write what you know.
[journal thumps on table]
End of the month,
Lake District, I'll rent a cottage.
We'll hike up Scafell Pike.
Yeah. We don't do anything like that, ever.
Which is why I want to start.
Seriously. You and me, end of the month.
End of the month would be nice.
Or the next month or the one after.
Or why don't we just get some Thai food right now?
I can't. I have a physio appointment.
You just got home. Cancel it.
Pop, I can't. It's mandatory.
* somber music *
[Robinshaw] How are you feeling, Mr. Colby?
How's the leg?
[Martian] Pretty much the same.
Any pain?
Just the usual.
* unsettling music *
Okay. Uh, well,
let me take a look at that.
I'm sure we can loosen it up.
[whirring, vibrating]
[whirring, vibrating continue]
-[paper rustles] -Hmm.
-How's that? -Yeah, a little higher.
Yep.
[Robinshaw] On a scale of one to ten, how's the pain?
Seven.
[Robinson] There?
[Martian grunts] Right there.
[Robinshaw] Numbness?
No.
Just pain.
-[grunts] -[Robinshaw] There.
That's enough.
[Robinshaw] In order to achieve lasting results,
it's gonna require more commitment
and cooperation with this process.
[Martian] Actually, I feel a whole lot better.
Pretty much as good as new.
These things take time.
-Pain I can live with. -It's not short-term pain
that's the problem.
Some actions can lead to permanent disability.
Good to know.
[audio rewinds]
[Robinshaw] In order to achieve lasting results,
it's gonna require more commitment
and cooperation with this process.
[Martian] Actually, I feel a whole lot better.
-Pretty much as good as new. -[phone rings]
[Robinshaw] These things take time.
-Tom's here. -[Martian] Pain I can live with.
[Robinshaw] It's not short-term pain that's the problem.
Some actions can lead to permanent disability.
[clears throat]
[door closes]
CCTV of the entrances to New Square,
right next to Lincoln's Inn Fields,
um, one hour either side of when Martian went in and out.
What did you find?
[Tom] That's James Richardson from SIS.
Came in seven minutes after Martian.
Left in his car through the west gate
four minutes before Martian.
* ominous music *
Thank you, Tom.
Uh, I-I don't want to overstep here,
-but-- -Then don't.
This doesn't leave my office. You understand?
[door closes]
* I've got some habits *
* Even I can't explain... *
[Saeed] Well, well.
So...
...I saw your interview on TV.
You're a natural, huh?
* Why try to change me now? *
At doing what I'm told?
At, uh, making our life easier.
-* I sit and daydream... * -[laughs softly]
I'm joking.
I actually enjoyed it.
-Yeah? -Mm.
Makes me very happy.
Okay, I need to get ready.
Rahman is taking me to dinner.
I will leave you here.
[scoffs quietly]
* dark music *
[Blair] Nils Jansen.
Junior exec at Frederik Samuels, Antwerp.
Thirty-six, married, two kids.
-[woman moaning over speaker] -[paper crinkles]
Oh, my God.
[Simon] A skim of texts and emails
paints the picture of a biblical philanderer.
He cheats on his wife. Online hookups, prostitutes.
[phone vibrates]
Yeah?
Nils is also a gambling addict
with multiple overdrawn accounts.
Highlights include owing 250,000 to a London bookie
for a single bet at a U.K. soccer match.
[man] So, you're still alive.
Tommy. I was just about to call you.
You listen to me, Dick Van Dutch-boy,
before I come over there and nail you to a fucking windmill.
Tom, I'm not Dutch, I'm German, and I've got your money.
-You'll-- -"Trust me, Tommy."
"I know what I'm doing, Tommy."
I'll tell you what you're doing.
Earning a pair of concrete clogs for your Kraut feet.
[hangs up]
-Okay. -[phone clatters softly]
[Simon] And to plug the hole,
Nils is pilfering gemstones from his employers.
[lock clicks]
He evades tax, illegally pushing offshore
whatever he doesn't invest in class A's, hookers and gambling.
And last but not least,
Nils has a 300 euro a day cocaine problem.
[Blair] I never seen so many handles on anyone.
The guy's perfect.
Dr. Blake?
Nils Jansen is chaotic, unreliable and self-serving,
thus, almost entirely unpredictable.
So, how do we take a loose cannon
and strap him to the deck?
We find the hole in his soul.
The one he's trying to fill with coke, hookers and gambling.
Nils is on a risk-reward treadmill.
Feed the monkey, lead the monkey.
[Blair] So, wait, this, uh...
this works, or...?
I made a promise to Owen we'd get Crawford.
This guy...
I don't know.
Can he hold it together long enough to stand next to Viking?
[chair clatters softly]
[footsteps departing]
[Martian] Dr. Blake.
I have a question.
It's great to have your experience on this,
but that's not the reason you're here.
That's not a question.
You here to spy on me?
Henry sent me.
Hello, Henry.
Henry has a question.
Well, come on. I'm dying to know.
What is the nature of your relationship
with British intelligence officer James Richardson?
* portentous music *
James is a friend.
Wow.
What?
Nothing.
-Fuck off. -No, I mean it.
Nothing.
I ambushed you to see what you were hiding,
and you've given me nothing.
Not so much as a beat.
It's a perfect ten.
Which, curiously, is the exact same as telling the truth.
When did you last see him?
About a month ago.
He was in the building for some reason,
came by my office for a coffee.
Just like old friends.
[scoffs quietly]
Tell me.
Is this part of a formal investigation
or is Henry crossing T's?
I'm not at liberty to say.
But you're right, you could be telling me the truth.
Or not.
Either way,
for someone who's been doing this as long as I have...
...it's pretty fucking exciting.
Like watching da Vinci paint the Mona Lisa.
Am I still under investigation?
Good morning. How about those Yankees, huh?
'Cause I got the strong impression
I'd been fully reinstated on this team.
There's no investigation.
Well, tell Henry that.
You know what Henry's like.
-A dog with a bone. -Yeah.
I used to love that about him till I woke up in his teeth.
[chuckles softly] I'll talk to him.
So, where are we at with Viking?
I need cash.
-Hit me. -Two hundred, tops.
-Fuck off. -I got to go to Antwerp
and flip a coke addict.
[sighs] I didn't hear that.
I'll give you 150.
Take it out of the, uh, the Irish account.
And in other news...
...you met with Samia Zahir?
How'd you know about that?
How do you think I got this fancy office?
* slow, tense music *
She's scared.
She wants out.
So?
She's become close
to a high-ranking intelligence agent
who works as a hinge between the Chinese,
the Russians, the UAE and the RSF.
Osman Abdel-Aziz.
What if his RSF friends found out
Osman had requested political asylum in the U.K.?
They'll think he used this whole London mission
with Samia just to set up his own defection.
Maybe even fabricated the entire trip
for that very reason.
They'd want to kill him.
That's where we step in, offering protection.
Let him know he can turn to us.
[exhales] Wow.
-What? -It's just...
[scoffs]
When you want someone fucked over, you really go for it.
Should I warn Henry?
[announcer speaking indistinctly over P.A.]
Of course.
And until then, I will continue to deliver
a peak performance for my superiors.
-This your suitcase, ma'am? -Yes.
-Could you follow me, please? -Why? Is-is there a problem?
Not at all, Dr. Zahir.
Actually, more of a solution.
* slow, suspenseful music *
Come on.
* mysterious music *
[gasps softly]
Where are you taking me?
Relax. You're safe.
I need your phone and your electronics.
My laptop is in my case.
The trunk's shielded.
You'll get it all back once we put 'em through the wash.
[phone ringing]
[phone vibrates]
[Sami] Hello, this is Dr. Samia Zahir.
-Please leave a message. -[phone vibrates]
Hello?
That's not why I'm calling.
-Then what? -Come to the embassy, now.
-We're waiting for you. -Okay, what's going on?
Saeed, tell me what's happening.
-[hangs up] -Saeed...
[Grandpa] They stopped.
They're moving again.
That's the driver.
Don't let him get too far ahead.
Shit.
[line ringing]
Come on, Dalaga, pick up.
[Dalaga] Osman. How can I help?
I need to see you.
-Why? -Now.
Come to my hotel. Midday tomorrow.
No, now.
You remember where we met last time?
Remember?
-[sighs] One hour. -[hangs up]
***
[chuckling]
Osman!
-Dalaga. -Good to see you, my friend.
Saeed's office, uh, called me.
For what?
They all pretended to be shocked,
but I sensed, uh, something else.
They envy you.
Uh, perhaps we-we all do.
Now, Dalaga, what are you talking about?
Your request for political asylum.
What request?
The one you submitted here, in London.
The one that is about to be granted
-by the British Home Office. -I never asked for asylum.
What bullshit is this?
Ah, Osman!
They have the file.
I hear it is, uh, well-argued.
Very complete.
***
Where would you stand if you were about to take someone out?
Far enough away not to be seen, close enough not to miss.
So?
[Grandpa] Yeah, roughly where that guy is.
In fact, exactly where that guy is.
It's perfect.
Give me your sidearm.
***
Saeed.
Drop it.
Drop the weapon.
Paul Lewis.
A message from Samia Zahir.
You think I'd betray my country?
I know what we do to traitors.
I've done it myself.
I want in, Osman! The same deal.
There is no fucking deal. I'm telling the truth!
Osman.
I'm going to give you...
...one
last chance.
[sniffles]
I will serve it until I die
against all enemies.
You can tell me, Osman.
I'm on your side.
Now get away from me.
I don't deal with traitors.
***
[exhales]
[birdsong]
[keys clatter]
Heating's fucked.
And the electricity.
Oh, and the roof leaks.
[Blair] Hello.
You won't be stuck here long.
We just have some loose ends to tie up,
make certain you're safe.
Why are you doing this?
What does the CIA have to gain?
That isn't your concern, ma'am.
Am I free?
Soon.
[waves lapping]
So, four people on that plane,
including the pilot.
The hotel room: arctic AC,
the Jacuzzi: hotter than July,
the champagne: flown over 3,000 miles from France
while sitting on ice in the desert.
And the conference is on green energy?
That's nothing.
Next, I got to go downstairs and listen
how to socially and environmentally govern
Iran's 4,000 oil wells.
[laughs]
To extinction capitalism.
-Oh. -[laughs]
To protesting in hot tubs.
I have to go to my meeting.
* atmospheric music *
I'll text you later.
[Danny] Sounds good.
[door closes]
[line ringing]
-[line clicks] -He's coming downstairs.
Understood.
Popeye's on his way.
I can't believe I'm here.
-Thank you so much, Craig. -You'll do great.
I do this stuff all the time.
[indistinct chatter]
There he is. Let's go.
Mr. Zamani?
Hassan Zamani, Iranian delegation?
Yes, sir.
Jason Woodall, Baytown Oil and Gas.
This is my colleague, Sophie Dixon.
It's good to meet you.
Baytown is a subsidiary of Exxon, right?
Ah, ten points. Look, we already have dinner plans later,
but, uh, if you have time for a drink,
we'd love to discuss a proposal.
For my delegation, I'm not authorized--
For you, personally.
We're interested in you, sir.
We are.
I don't drink alcohol, but I'll meet you for a late tea.
How's ten?
[Craig] Ten in the Pearl Lounge?
It's a date.
See you there.
Well done.
[busy, indistinct chatter]
Did Craig arrive in Bahrain yet?
Uh, they landed yesterday.
They?
Um, Craig and Katie.
[sighs]
Raine.
How many hotel rooms did you book?
I'm not sure I'm allowed to tell you that.
That's odd,
because I'm not allowed to plant kompromat at your home
and have you shipped to a black site in Egypt to be tortured.
I thought we were friends.
So did I, bestie.
Help your girl out.
[sighs]
One-bedroom villa with a private pool.
It's better not to know, right?
It is never better not to know.
[Blair] Her mother's in Khartoum.
Sister's in Omdurman.
They've been dragged through unimaginable hell.
Don't try to soften me up. It won't work.
Well, two to get out, right?
[Blair] Right.
What do we get?
She's a hero.
[scoffs] Who's a highly respected activist
and academic in exile.
Tortured and imprisoned for her beliefs.
She's steadfast, she's committed.
Elegant, composed.
She's palatable to the Western world with a survivor's story.
Within two years, she'll be a key voice
-in the Horn of Africa-- -Okay, okay, stop, please.
I'm gonna puke.
Sorry, sir.
All right. You closed.
Leave it with me.
[softly] Yeah, I fucking closed.
It's me. Lover boy.
Are you recording this?
Absolutely not.
It's set up. They will know.
So why'd you kill Saeed?
-Saeed? -Saeed's dead.
I should know, I killed him. It was self-defense.
He was about to kill me. I mean you.
It wasn't, you didn't, but you know.
You're welcome.
Motherfucker!
I'm sure you've figured out that right now
I'm the only friend you've got.
I have a wife.
I have a wife and two boys in Khartoum.
Not my problem.
What do you want?
Here's how it works, Osman.
You'll be taken to a safe house, debriefed,
then we process the intelligence,
cross-check each detail, whereupon we have two options.
One, give you back to your Mukhabarat friends.
Or two, take you deeper.
Help you vanish forever.
But you'll never be off the books.
Whenever you need assistance, we'll be there.
Whenever it's time for you to move, we move you.
Countries, names, identities, we'll take care of it.
Can my family know I'm alive?
That's up to you.
Actually, it's up to me.
If you're a good boy, then possibly.
But if anytime, anywhere,
Sami is followed or threatened,
I will personally feed you to the wolves.
Those are the rules.
* tense, atmospheric music *
[fire crackling]
***
[whispering] I miss you.
Your family is gonna be safe.
Osman won't be hunting you anymore.
[Sami sighs]
[breathes shakily]
[sighs]
What about Saeed?
You don't have to worry about him.
Are you sure?
I'm sure.
I keep forgetting.
We're strangers.
I know who you are.
I know what we are.
This is who I am.
Is this real?
It's real.
I recognize the face, and I love the man I recognize.
[sighs]
But there is someone else who I can see.
Who I don't know.
A person who put me through hell.
And is capable of doing that to anyone who gets in his way.
Is that what happened here?
I got in the way?
I wanted to tell you what I do.
-I tried, but-- -Can you even really tell me?
* slow, somber music *
Would I still love you if you did?
I was naive.
Part of me thought we could run away together.
Leave it all behind.
Truth is, if you came with me, we'd never be safe again.
I'm sorry for what meeting me put you through, Samia,
I really am.
I want you to know...
I don't know what I want you to know.
Maybe I never did.
You know, Iran is at a crossroads.
Pushed down by sanctions, pulled backwards by orthodoxy.
You stand on the other side.
Pulling Iran into the future.
And from where we're standing, that future looks bright.
Iran 2030. That's what you stand for.
Top of a very short list.
Exxon are looking for the right match.
Looking forward to a time after sanctions are relaxed.
You're young, smart, modern, man of international caliber.
We want to offer you an exciting opportunity.
-Is this where I kiss you? -[laughs softly]
You know us. We're the biggest and the best.
We want to hire you as a consultant.
What's the job? What do I do?
You know the right people, you're in the right rooms.
But I'm not the one who makes decisions on any level.
-This about my father? -No, we're not asking you
to influence anyone.
Our long-term goal is to have you as CEO
of a new Exxon-Persia partnership by 2030.
Well, it's a wonderful proposal.
[laughs softly]
My answer is no.
I listened to the end because I enjoy
having my ass kissed but also because I was hoping
Sophie would join us and I could invite her upstairs
to get drunk with me and my girlfriend.
I don't understand.
I'm a flirt. I like flirting.
Doesn't mean I'm going to fuck you.
Why not?
Because like you,
I am a happily married man.
* slow, atmospheric music *
-[elevator bell chimes] -[phone vibrating]
[indistinct conversation]
Hey. What's up?
[Craig] He said, "I'm a married man."
What does that even mean?
It means... he is working for someone else.
Who?
I'll call you back.
-*** -[dialogue inaudible]
* slow, suspenseful music *
***
[elevator door closes]
[whirring]
-[elevator bell chimes] -[door opens]
* pulsing music *
[knocks on door]
[door opens]
[door closes]
Chinese delegate Li Wenyin.
Run his picture through Minotaur.
[Craig] Why?
Please just do it.
Got him.
Tom, need you to run a face.
[door closes]
[Robinshaw] Sure. What floor?
[elevator door closes]
I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish.
No problem.
[elevator bell chimes]
[door opens]
* suspenseful music *
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