Original subtitles

- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -

Hi. Vote for Mayor Jaffrey.

Oh.

Can I give you a poster for the window?

Oh, the bank doesn't let us be political.

Besides he's a shoo-in, isn't he?

Can't take anything for granted.

Imagine if everyone stayed home and we ended up with Dennis Gimball?

He's an idiot. He'll never get in.

Touch wood, but elections aren't idiot-proof, you know.

Morning.

Hope Mayor Jaffrey can count on your vote.

I know a lot of you young people are disenchanted with politics.

Yeah, I-I was too at your age.

But Mayor Jaffrey offers hope

whereas Gimball offers... hate.

Gimball wants to "Make London... "

What are you...

Don't. Do...

Ho! Look out!

What the fuck?

- Did you not see? - What?

- He was about to run you over. - What you talking about?

My headphones.

It sped up. It was definitely going for you.

They can't have got far.

I thought you were checking CCTV?

I will forward you the link.

Replace my headphones, and we'll leave it at that.

No, we fucking won't.

You also ripped my top. I'll add that to the bill, or else.

Or else what?

Or else I'll file an official complaint against you for assault.

Assault? I just saved your life, dickhead.

By the way, only a twat pays 200 quid for a top.

Yeah, well, I make that money back in pussy.

That makes it sound like I pay for sex, which I don't!

Sex pays for me!

Witnesses describe the shooter

as using a shotgun or rifle.

And that he opened fire randomly...

... and without emotion.

The police and other emergency services remain at the scene.

And we will, of course, continue to update the story...

Yeah, I know about Abbotsfield.

What the fuck's it got to do with you? Or anyone else at Slough House?

It came out of nowhere. So the Park is scrambling to catch up.

So they'll be doing deep background research,

identity checks, all the boring crap you make us do.

So don't you think they'd appreciate our help?

Well, make an educated guess.

Yes.

I said educated.

That guess left school at 15 to get a job in an abattoir.

Why do you even give a shit anyway?

It's your last day, isn't it?

Why don't you make a paper aeroplane or a rubber band ball?

Make yourself useful.

... not at this stage appear to be terrorist related.

But the motivation for the attack has not been confirmed.

God, why are you mistaking this for my office?

Where you're also not welcome.

S-Shirley has something to tell you.

- Well, I didn't need a warm-up act. - Well, go on then. Hurry up.

So I can tell you to fuck off and finish my breakfast in peace.

Someone nearly ran Ho over.

Good for them. Fuck off.

It was deliberate. They drove straight at him.

While I'd like to think of Ho getting run over accidentally,

it would be robbing the rest of us of a moment's pleasure.

- Where did it happen? - Fan Street.

No cameras. Suspicious in itself.

What sort of car?

Ford Transit van. White.

Any identifying characteristics like,

oh, I don't know... y'know, a number plate?

I was too busy rescuing Ho to get it. When I looked around it had gone.

And why isn't Ho here complaining about this himself?

He didn't notice.

Yeah, I kinda see that happening.

White Transit van heading east.

Surely we should at least try and track it?

Well, leaving the scene of an accident

doesn't make whoever it was an assassin.

I take it no one leaned out of the window

shouting, "I'll get ya next time."

Are you going to take this seriously?

Well, I'm glad you asked me that. No.

Are you going to take this seriously? Fuck off.

Shirley, wait.

What we are seeing today is terror. Pure and simple.

The policies of this soft-on-crime mayor

have turned this city into a war zone.

Emma Flyte, MI5 Security Head.

Flytey.

- Excuse me? - Flytey Flyte. Flew the Met for MI5.

Our paths crossed briefly on the, uh, Lennard Street robbery.

Oh, yes. Shall we?

Oh, I see. No time for small talk now you're a fancy spook?

Eleven people are dead at the hands of an automatic weapon.

So, no, I don't have time for small talk.

Especially not with someone who once sent a WhatsApp

listing suspects in the order he would like to fuck them.

Let me show you the scene.

Around 9:07, the suspect comes out of his flat,

he walks to the center of the square

where he opens fire on everyone around him without warning.

Starting with the old boy at the election stall.

Minutes later, turns the gun on himself.

No one stood a chance with that weapon.

Well, we've made inquiries at the local gun club, so, uh...

That kind of weapon is not licensed for gun clubs.

What do we know about the gunman?

Fan of Dennis Gimball.

Did he ever express extreme views on race or immigration?

It's not come up so far.

According to the locals, he didn't speak to anyone.

I'll need to check his online history.

See if he has any affiliations.

I'll need to let the Park know.

Know what?

Well, gunman was a Gimball supporter,

and his first victim was someone stumping for the mayor.

The press and politicians will have a field day with this.

City's already on a knife edge.

Fuck.

Are you late 'cause you was shaking a tail?

I wish.

No, Catherine texted me to pick up stuff for this party.

Someone tried to take out Ho this morning. Drove straight at him.

What? Really? Who? How?

No, they didn't!

She was looking for an excuse to sexually harass me.

Right. Did... Did this happen or not?

He was nearly run over.

Can you just take some of this?

You think I'm making it up?

No. I believe he was nearly hit by a car

as are many people who cross roads.

Why is everyone being such a prick about it?

Not being a prick about it. I just wanna spend my time

on things that actually matter.

A van nearly hit him. I pushed him out of the way.

Right.

Two things, right?

Angry London drivers, and Roddy does have a very irritating walk.

Fuck you.

That was uncalled for.

What is her problem?

No, I meant you.

- Me? - Yes.

She's convinced.

And if someone targets one of us, it means we're all at risk.

Potentially.

Yeah, well, she's not exactly the best eyewitness

in the world right now, is she?

I can still hear you, you fucking twat!

Have a heart. She's still dealing with Marcus's death.

Yeah, well, we're all dealing with things, aren't we?

Some of us better than others.

Do you think there was an attack on Ho?

Don't know. Don't care.

Why have you been shopping? I thought you were on an op.

No.

No, I've been picking up supplies for your party.

Oh, Jesus Christ, I don't want a party.

I just wanna slink out of here.

No. Taking a mental health break is actually pretty brave,

so we should celebrate.

Jesus.

What?

My grandfather was telling me a story this morning,

and I thought I just recognized it because

he'd told me it before, or something,

but it's actually because it's the plot to Where Eagles Dare.

- Oh, no. - Yep.

So he's not doing so well?

No.

Well, he's actually adjusted to the home pretty well.

But that's because he doesn't remember much of his life before.

He used to go, and he would give me

all these brilliant Cold War stories.

You know, with detail and...

Now when I think I'm getting something from him, it's an old film.

- Don't judge me by the way. - Mm-mmm.

- Already hate myself... - I'm not.

... for feeling like this.

Well, I'm gonna miss this fun office banter.

Flyte's still at the scene.

We're combing through his online history

based on what she sent through.

We need a full profile now. There are too many blanks.

I need to know how he got under the radar.

We cannot let another one get through.

I just got off the phone from a very unhappy Home Secretary.

Well, yes.

- Eleven dead. - We need to pick ourselves up.

It's what we do next that counts.

And given the political affiliation of the gunman,

the mayoral candidate should limit their public appearances.

Funny you should say that.

I'm... I'm actually going to relay that information personally.

I'm heading down to see Gimball and Jaffrey right now.

Oh, is that a good idea?

Uh, no, it's a terrible idea, which is why I'm doing it.

When Gimball learns about his link to the gunman through the press,

he's gonna go full-on conspiracy mode.

Say it's a false flag operation.

So he needs to hear it from me. Straight, no more games.

I think we've all had quite enough of his rabble rousing.

I think you might have to accept that he'll do that regardless.

Not on my watch, he won't.

Thank you.

I will then open up the floor to questions.

From a rabidly metropolitan audience.

No, we're making sure that a third of the audience

are planning to vote for you,

a third for Mr. Jaffrey and a third are undecided.

Excuse me.

I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave the room.

I need to speak to the candidates alone.

Claude, great to see you again.

Nice to see you, Zafar.

And they say there's no such thing as the establishment.

I take it you two play golf together?

- No, actually, we Morris dance together. - Oh, sweet.

It's a joke, uh...

I know you've heard about the terrible events at Abbotsfield.

Appalling.

London stands in solidarity with victims of hate.

Sorry, but why are you speaking like that?

There... There's no cameras here.

Eleven people died, Dennis.

Yes, because you can't keep on top of crime.

Gentlemen.

There'll be an increased police presence at all public gatherings

going forwards from today.

Including tomorrow's mayoral debate.

You should, uh, bring in some backup. Expand your team.

Why do I need to expand my team?

Well, I've no doubt that you can handle yourself, obviously.

Just your candidate needs 360-degree protection.

Tyson's my Chief of Staff.

- He's your what? Sorry? - Tyson Bowman is my Chief of Staff.

Oh.

- Did you think I was his bodyguard? - Sorry, I'm late.

I had to educate my editor that octoroon is not a racist word.

Dame Whelan. Hello.

I'm sorry. This is an intelligence briefing.

Are you questioning my IQ?

Dodie is not only my wife, she's also my campaign manager.

And she's also a journalist who works for a national rag.

You didn't like what I wrote about you.

I don't read your column.

But I'm told that you, um... you wanted me to tend my resignation?

On account of my drive to recruit more LGBTQ+ agents into the Service?

What did you say I was looking for? Uh... "James Bondage."

You should leave. Now.

Sorry.

Protocol.

Tut, tut, tut.

Shouldn't have done that.

It appears the gunman was a supporter of yours.

Appears?

He had your books.

A lot of people buy my books. I'm a bestseller.

Including left wing journalists

who delight in taking my quotes out of context.

He also had a photograph of the two of you together on his fridge.

And his first target was leafleting for the mayor.

I'm asking you to moderate your rhetoric in line with the facts.

I don't believe a word of this.

This is just a bloody stitch-up.

Fuck off, I'm busy.

I want Marcus's gun.

The CCTV was down enough that the vehicle could get away off-camera.

And what's Ho say?

You're gonna take his opinion over mine?

No, I'm keen to canvass a variety of opinions

and then pass my own judgment.

He says the CCTV coverage across the city is patchy,

and there's nothing suspicious, but he's also gonna vote for Gimball.

What exactly do you want me to do here?

If it was an attempted hit, they're gonna try again.

The door could be kicked in again at any moment. I want the gun.

It conveniently disappeared, remember?

So I didn't have to fill in 15 fucking forms

explaining why you let Coe

execute a prisoner over here by the radiator.

Right. But you still have it though?

I can't remember where I put it.

Can I have yours then?

Oh, yeah, why not?

It's the third drawer down. Help yourself.

- You're kidding, aren't you? - Yeah, of course I'm fucking kidding.

I haven't read all the management shit,

but I'm pretty sure I'm not allowed to arm my staff

just because they're bored.

I'm not bored.

Are you not?

That sounds like a criticism of my leadership style.

When that mad French bastard stormed this place,

we were fighting him off with a fucking kettle.

What if we get attacked again?

The kettle got replaced, didn't it?

Open or closed?

Fuck off.

- Devon. - Trew hung out on an incel forum.

I'm reviewing it now. I'll send you the links.

Tell you who else is probably on that forum,

the guy in charge of the crime scene, Fuckability Phil.

How's he still on the force?

He's spent more time in suspension than he did on the beat.

- Makes me glad I left. - Same.

Wait.

Hey.

Did anyone witness him actually shooting himself?

Well, everyone was hiding or running by then.

So, no.

He was the only nutter with a gun. Case closed.

I decide when the case is closed.

Look, if this is about my previous behavior,

you should know I do now consider myself to be something of a feminist.

Fuck me! Half his head's missing!

- He didn't shoot himself. - Well, sure looks like it!

He was shot from a distance at an elevation.

Let's take a look up there.

It might not be terrorism, but it's something more than mass murder.

He didn't kill himself.

He was executed.

My advice...

Same as to him.

Find something else to do.

For the sake of my mental health.

This is so depressing.

Yeah. Well, can only pick up now he's gone.

Come on, everyone, the party's starting!

How long do I have to stay?

Oh, come on. You can't be the first one to leave.

What if I go now then?

No, no, no, no. Look at what I've done.

Look at the spread. It's a banquet.

Someone get me a defibrillator 'cause this party is DOA.

- DOA is dead on arrival. - Yeah, we get it. Fuck off.

Yeah. And you wouldn't need a defibrillator if it was already dead.

So, what you should've said was,

"Someone get me a defibrillator

because this party's heart has stopped."

Why are you helping him?

I don't know. He's just... He always needs help.

Oh, sorry. Does anyone else want a tea?

No, I should've asked before, but I assumed

you'd want something stronger.

Tea party. Wild.

- Found them. - Found what?

Spotter, the driver, the whole unit.

What spotter?

Vehicle goes around the corner,

newsagents has a camera pointing at the door which covers the pavement.

The bit of... The bit of the road here.

Look at his feet. Combat boots.

I'm wearing combat boots.

Well, your shoes are pretty combat-y.

They're Red Wings. Look.

He gets into the same vehicle that went for Ho.

How do you know it's the same vehicle?

It's white.

But zoom in, there's two other guys also wearing combat boots.

The guy who climbs in was a spotter watching Ho.

Right. So?

So, it's a hit squad.

Because there's some people in the back of a van

that may have driven at Roddy that may be wearing combat boots.

Do you know what? Fuck this.

Pardon me for trying to keep you people alive.

Are you trying to keep us alive,

or are you just trying to bring Marcus back?

Sorry. Sor...

I'm sorry. S-Sorry...

Sorry.

Bloody hell.

♪ I love a party with a happy atmosphere ♪

Party's over, okay?

Um, here. This is for you.

Oh, thank you.

- Please come back soon. - Thank you.

That suits me. I got places to be.

Wankers Guild of Britain having its AGM?

There's no such guild.

Pub?

No, thanks.

Fucking hell.

Um...

Um, listen, Shirley might be onto something.

She has some boots on camera.

I can't believe you've just said that out loud.

Protocol dictates

that upon receiving information of a credible threat to an agent,

a report of same must immediately be made to local station head of ops.

What's our local station? Remind me.

Regent's Park.

Regent's Park. So, Service standing rule number...

- whatever it is... - Twenty-seven, in brackets, three.

It demands that a full report of this morning's events

be made to Lady Di Taverner,

who would doubtless copy Claude Whelan in.

Luckily, Service standing rule number 27(3)

is superseded by London rules, rule one which is...

- Cover your arse. - Precisely.

So...

Because you don't want the Park involved, we do nothing?

Well, I personally don't plan to do much.

But I doubt our little gang of never-runs

will pass up the chance to mount their own private op.

Dandelion's already asked me for a gun.

You didn't agree to it?

Well, no. But I was tempted.

Imagine her turning up at her PTSD sessions armed and...

... and triggering all the other fruit baskets.

So, you believe her, despite her issues, and let her think you don't.

You're supposed to be cutting those out.

They're killing you.

That's why I smoke them.

The doctor said you had to stop. I'm not going till you put it out.

The shooter was Rob Trew. 28-year-old white male.

No criminal record. Estranged from his family.

No social contacts to speak of.

Locals found him distant and cold

but nothing to suggest he was capable of multiple killings.

He opened fire with an L16S assault rifle, killing 11 people.

Check his background again.

He must have contacts in the underworld or ex-military

to be able to get his hands on a weapon like that.

And money.

Someone gave it to him, ma'am.

- Gave it to him? - He was active on The Unseen.

It's a website for disaffected males.

He felt rejected by women, ignored by society,

that his British identity was being eroded.

Wanted the people around him to feel the pain that he felt.

Now, this was stoked by another user.

Their profile's been wiped, no way of tracing them.

All we have are Trew's side of the conversations.

Trew's last message to him was at 21:05.

"Will pick up the package in the morning.

Tomorrow, I will be seen and heard."

So, you're saying he was primed for murder and then handed a weapon?

Yes. Then that person executed him.

Someone clever enough to murder this man and... and disappear

would not be so sloppy as to leave a cartridge.

I think they left it deliberately. It felt placed. They're taunting us.

The name from the message boards is Sniper762.

And he was killed by a sniper with a 7.62 cartridge.

- What are you doing here? - I thought you could use some backup.

I know what I saw. It was definitely an attempted hit.

What's he doing?

Probably collecting Pokémon or some other kind of dumb shit.

If you're offering to help to keep an eye on him, okay.

But if it's help in terms of anything else,

go fuck yourself. I'm doing fine.

If you say so.

Trust me, the real sign that something's wrong with me

is when I stop telling people to go fuck themselves.

Look, I'm sure River didn't mean what he said.

Oh, my God.

Ho's got a date...

with her.

I'm calling it. Escort.

That's rather uncharitable.

But probably true.

"I will miss the only sane person in the office. Hurry back."

You're so cute.

Well, it's true.

The sanity bit, mainly. But, yeah, the missing you as well.

Not sure I'm sane.

Yeah, you are. You just need a break, that's all.

So do you.

What you said to Shirley was not okay.

I know. I know.

I'll apologize when she's calmed down.

I just can't be bothered with all that bullshit at the moment. And...

she just reminds me of how stuck we all are.

Yep.

That's why I'm moving on.

- Moving on? - Mm-hmm.

Moving on where?

From Slough House, from the Service.

I'm not coming back.

What do you mean?

Yes, you are.

- No. I'm not. - Yes, you are. It's a six month break.

- I can't... - What?

I can't deal with everything that's happened, River.

- No, no, no. - You know, losing Min,

watching your dad try to kill you, and seeing you react to that

by trying to turn yourself into some kind of super soldier.

- That's not what I'm doing. - Yes, it is.

- It's not. - Your masculinity

has been completely shot to pieces by your dad attacking you.

What do you mean? What? I caught him. I won that round.

Whoa. Listen to yourself.

This isn't a game.

You're a mess.

You're not allowing yourself to feel things that you should be feeling.

And I wanna...

I just wanna, like... feel things again.

Do you know what I mean?

What the fuck was that?

D... Feeling things.

So, y-you thought I wanted you to kiss me?

I thought you wanted me to feel things.

No. No, no.

I was just telling you that I couldn't cope with the loss.

Yeah. The loss of me.

- You're talking about losing me. - Oh, my God.

How are you making this about you?

- No, no. I'm not. I'm not making it... - Oh, my God.

You're making it about me.

- What the hell is wrong with men? - No, no, no, no.

So, a woman opens up about... about their feelings,

and the first thing they think is, "Now I can fuck her?" Wow.

Wait. No, no, no. No, that is not what I'm thinking.

- That's not the... No, no, no. - Felt like it. Mm-hmm.

I should be pissed off with you, by the way.

What were you gonna do? J-Just sneak off

and leave with never telling me?

Dude, I'm telling you now.

And the reason I didn't tell you and everyone else

is because I didn't want to give Lamb

the satisfaction of me quitting to his face.

I...

You... You...

If you can't think of anything to say, you might as well answer that.

Fuck's sake.

- Catherine. - Shirley's tailed Roddy

into this nightclub, the one under the flyover.

I can't go in. I'd stand out. And there's alcohol.

Okay. Those obstacles aside, why would you wanna go in?

Because she's an agent in the field.

Alone.

Catherine, Shirley has PTSD, right?

- She's not... She's not being rational. - No, we don't know that yet for sure.

And Roddy's with a woman.

- He's what? - Look, she should have backup.

I don't think Shirley wants to see me right now.

Fine.

Well, if there's any more attempted murders, hits...

If there's any more bloodshed or brains up walls, then it'll be on you.

I hope you can sleep at night.

Okay. Fine, fine, fine.

- I'll be there. - Thank you.

Right. So, Roddy is in a nightclub on a date with a woman.

So, I have to...

Okay. C-Can we try and do this again, like, next week?

Same place. I'll just be less weird.

No, I just need... I-I need to be around

normal people and have a normal life.

So, I should give you some space.

Fine. I'll... I'll call you in a few weeks.

No. I think it's a more...

"Don't call me, I'll call you" sort of space.

All right. I'll, uh...

I'll see you when I see you then.

Fucking hell.

Oh, fuck.

All right?

What are you doing here?

Catherine sent me.

- Sorry about before, by the way. - Forget it.

So, you bailed on Louisa's party?

She's not coming back.

Of course not.

Who leaves Slough House and thinks, "More of that, please"?

Right. So, everyone else has worked that out, have they?

Pretty much.

And if you're wondering how your evening can get any worse,

if you look down there,

you'll see Ho dancing with a woman way out of your league.

What?

Is that real?

No, someone's spiked my drink, haven't they?

Actually, maybe she's in it for the sex.

What?

I mean, Ho's really ripped.

If he wasn't such a prick, he'd be a prime piece of meat.

- Sorry, you think Roddy's hot? - Absolutely not.

I'd actually rather sleep with Lamb, but in a club situation,

I can see why someone might use him as a human sex toy.

I wonder if anyone's checked me out since I got here.

Well, I very much doubt it. You're profoundly asexual.

What the fuck?

Shit.

Shirley! What... What the fuck are you playing at?

- Shir-Sh... - You two, out!

Don't touch me!

Dickhead.

- No, no. Give me that. - What the fuck?

What are you doing? What was that?

I thought he had a knife.

A knife? He had a bottle!

Okay, I fucked up! You of all people

should be able to sympathize with that.

You jumped on a man on a dance floor.

And now, what... what were you gonna... were you gonna snort a line?

- I'm just gonna look at it. - No, fuck off. Look at you!

Look at you! You're a mess.

Okay. When I feel like shit,

and I hate myself, and I hate my life,

and I just wanna get off my fucking face.

I take it out, and I look at it.

And I think, "What would Marcus tell me if he was here?"

Except he's not, is he?

'Cause your half brother blew his fucking head off.

So, I-I put it back in my pocket

'cause that's what Marcus would tell me to do.

And that's my way of pretending he's still here, okay?

Fine.

Oh, fuck. That was easy.

You really fucking think you're clever, don't you? Look at yourself.

Look at yourself. You need serious help.

You're the one who needs a mental health break.

Oh, my God. That's so righteous of you. Fuck off!

Mmm, yeah. Fuck you!

Snort yourself blind. See if I care!

And you lot enjoy your shit music in your shit club!

Hey! What are you doing?

So, is tonight the night...

♪ When two become one? ♪

- You know I really want to, huh? - Yeah.

But I have to be up really early, and...

and I want it to be special, not rushed.

It will be.

When I make love, it's... it's like time is running backwards.

I love that you're happy to wait.

It's so powerful.

Bye.

34 Priory Place.

And drive carefully, yeah?

You got precious cargo.

- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -