Original subtitles

Yeah, we gave Cartwright a going-over.

He knows fuck all about where she is.

I don't know.

It's all fucking fields.

There's no sign of her.

Copy that.

Oh, wait, wait, wait. Wait.

- No, no. Who's that? - Get off me. Get off.

- Oh! - Fucking doing?

Oh, sorry. I-I-I thought that was her.

Sorry. Was just trying to help.

That is a lot of aftershave.

Do you really need to wear that much?

I mean, you're just in the car with him all day.

Oh!

Oh.

Well, that's quite sweet actually.

So where did you meet? On the job or...

- or on an app? - Right.

- You're walking back to London. - Tricky with an app, isn't it?

- I mean, do you put the real you... - Do you ever stop talking, knobhead?

...or like... or like a version of you?

Yeah, it's hard.

Twat!

If this is Cartwright again, "going dark" means not using the fucking phone.

Lamb... Lamb, she's gone. Sid's gone.

- Gone where? - Taverner...

Taverner tried to hand her over to the GRU.

I have to... We have... We have to do something.

No. No, no, we don't.

There are Dogs everywhere looking for her, okay.

- We have to do something, okay. I... - Sid Baker

was a better agent than you when she was in a coma.

She can take care of herself. It's the others I'm worried about.

I don't... I don't care about the others. You're not listening to me.

- She's on her own. - They're on the Suffolk coast

in a safe house, holed up with a kid that your dad wants dead.

Yeah, yeah. I thought that might get your attention.

So instead of fannying around pissing off the Dogs,

I want you and Coe to get down there.

Me... He's, um...

It's just me now.

Lamb?

Lamb?

- Hello. - Yeah, yeah, I'm still here.

Do you know where you're going?

Uh, yeah, yeah.

Yeah... ...and, Cartwright?

Yeah?

Moscow Rules.

Oh, for God...

- It's a fucking bloodbath, Diana. - No, don't you lecture me.

You hide away in your filthy little office

precisely to avoid the decisions that I have to make

- every day for the greater good. - Oh, is that all you've got?

With great power comes great responsibility?

People are fucking dying.

What can you tell me about a woman called Natasha Carrington?

Oligarch's daughter, married an English title,

likes playing businesswoman. She's no one.

Uh... No, she's definitely someone.

And when you put yourself in Cantor's pocket,

- you put yourself in... - I am not in Cantor's pocket.

Oh, tell that to his cock.

The money you took from him, it came from the top, and it came in rubles.

Now, he's trying to kill anyone who can prove his connection to this Natasha.

The Russians are trying to kill the people they think are responsible for Kazan.

And... And you know who's in the crosshairs for both?

My fucking joes.

So what was your plan?

Come on, this is you, Diana Taverner, First Desk.

The big "I am." You must've fucking had one.

The Russians want the agent responsible for Kazan.

We used Baker's identity.

I was going to hand her over to the GRU,

and then go to the Home Secretary.

With full disclosure?

I am First Desk.

I'm First Desk, and I'm compromised.

I am the greatest threat to national security we have seen in years,

- and I'm taking myself off the board. - No, you're not.

Not until you stop the wholesale slaughter of my joes.

What you do after that is your own business.

Although I'd think twice about admitting to treason.

That'll be your pension fucked right there.

There's a way out of this mess, Diana.

But you gotta get down off that cross...

and start bloody listening.

That's dog food, that.

Foie gras, Roddy.

Rather cruel, of course.

Banned, I believe, but yummy.

Is that Diana Taverner's?

I'm dressing for dinner. Put it on the list.

If you want to take it off her, you're welcome to try.

Go on. Tuck in there, Roddy.

Lunch, everyone!

Fucking goldfish bowl.

Rat trap more like, eh, boss?

Get the hardware.

Yes, boss.

Where are you all going?

- Bedroom. - TV.

Right. I-I thought if we all ate together, it'd be good for morale.

It's routine that's gonna get us through this thing.

Well, we could try praying.

Oh, well, if-if-if praying is what works for you, Shirley.

- I'm sorry, I didn't realize. - She's winding you up, Moira.

Does it slow you down mentally?

You know, the, uh... the menopause?

I'm afraid that ship has sailed long ago, Roddy.

Would you speak to your mother like that, Roderick?

No, Moira, this food is lovely. Thank you.

You're such a brownnosed little dick, you know that?

- No one is a dick, all right? - Ho is.

What I'm trying to do is to provide some order and purpose,

and you just pick, pick, pick and squabble like children.

I shouldn't even be here.

Well, let's pretend you're not, okay.

Moira, we don't need you to organize our lives, thank you.

We are quite capable of messing them up all by ourselves.

Can you let me in?

Deliveries are round the back.

I-I... Yeah, I tried that, but I couldn't get through.

You can leave it with me.

Leave what with you?

You... You said you had a delivery.

No, you said I had a delivery.

I'm here to see Natasha.

Have you got an appointment?

Well, you're the one with the list. You tell me.

Mrs. Carrington's busy.

She's busy? Well, that is, uh...

That's a shame 'cause I, um...

I wanted to ask her about that, uh,

off-books assassination squad she's been running.

- It's fine. Sorry. - Yeah, well, never mind.

- Go ahead. - I'll nip over to the Russian embassy

and a-ask about it over there.

It's not just Harkness.

He's connected, but it's... it's complicated.

How complicated?

Well, for a start, the GRU are trying to kill Sid Baker.

- Wait, where's Coe? - What's the GRU?

Sid Baker's already dead.

No, she's not.

Taverner set her up.

She's been pinned for a hit in Kazan.

Harkness is the cleanup job.

That fucking woman.

River, where's Coe?

Don't look at her. She's golden. She's been on a retreat.

Where's Coe?

- Another one bites the dust. - Shut up, bro.

- How'd he die? - You don't wanna know.

- Yes, we do. - Well, that can't help.

No, it does help actually. How did he die?

- Was he alone? - What do you want me to say, Shirley?

You don't need to say anything. It's not his fault, Shirley.

- I'm just asking a question. - Stop attacking him.

- It's the job. - She's not attacking me.

Why're you protecting him? I thought you weren't

- boyfriend and girlfriend. - Oh, my God, grow up.

- What are you, five? - Guys, see, this is exactly

what I'm taking about.

- Moira, please be quiet. - All right. You playing dress-up

- makes you a grown-up, does it? - No, getting my shit together

makes me a grown-up. You should try it sometime.

- There gonna be a fight? - I fuckin' hope so.

- That's not helping. - We'd all be doing much better at life

- if we had your luck. - Luck?

- You think that's what you're lacking? - Lacking more than luck, babes.

No, actually it was a euphemism.

Euphemis... For what? What are you talking about?

- What's your issue with me? - Doesn't matter.

Okay. What's the going rate for a stolen cut diamond these days?

- What? - Oh, my God. I fucking knew it.

I knew that you had it.

Wait, so... so, she stole a diamond?

- No, she didn't. - You are ridiculous.

- Wait, did you? - Do you know how ridiculous you are?

You know what's ridiculous? The idea that someone's

- leaving Slough House for a company car... - Oh, my God. Shirley.

- Leave me alone! - ...bonuses and a fucking retreat.

Stop judging my choices!

- I am happy! - You're full of shit.

- You think the world is against you. - Bullshit! You're a fake!

No one gives a fuck about you!

Stay down. Stay down. Reece, get behind the sofa now.

I can't see anything.

Stay in the larder, Moira.

Reece! Reece, stay down. Don't move.

Stay there! Stay down! Stay down!

Reece, are you okay?

Yeah, I'm fine!

It's your dad.

Yeah, it's good to see him too.

Get down, Reece!

Out of the way!

Come on.

Is he down?

Yes.

Our guy's down too.

Okay, we need to move.

I'll cover.

Yeah.

Your dad's still out there.

We won't get another chance. We're sitting ducks here.

- Reece, can you run? - Yeah.

- Just not very fast. - Roddy.

Ready?

Let's go.

Now! Go!

Go!

Go on!

Come on, come on!

- Moira, behind me, for fuck's sake. - Come on!

Shit, Moira.

No, come on. We have to keep moving, come on.

How much do you weigh?

Get to cover.

- What are you doing? - In here.

- What? - In here.

Fuck.

Are you all right?

Yeah. Did they follow us?

I think we're clear.

Okay?

All right?

Oh, we are very, very fucked.

Let's go.

So, you are Jackson Lamb.

Oh, it's not good for me that you're here.

Not good for me, not good for you.

The Park thinks you're no one.

How'd you pull that off?

Maybe I am no one.

Russian wet squad's been taking out my people on account of a list

that your man Cantor lifted from the Park and gave to you.

Even if that were true,

that would only make me a go-between.

Can me and Jaden play with your shoes?

Oh, sweetheart, it's your birthday.

You can do whatever you want.

What?

A clown?

Does he do tricks?

I don't know yet, Lapochka.

Why don't you go back to your party?

So...

You heard her question.

Do you do tricks, Mr. Lamb?

I'm, uh...

I'm too old and too fucking scared for tricks.

Do you know what I miss about the old days?

A cold war was just that.

Cold.

Now, a hot war...

burn this world to the ground.

Mine, yours.

Hers.

I think the GRU has had you running an off-books assassination squad

on British soil because the man at the top wanted to settle scores.

And now that's all gone tits up,

who do you think's gonna take the rap?

Your boss, comrade Vassily?

I don't care who started this, Natasha.

I just want it fucking stopped.

Mrs. Carrington.

I'm so sorry.

It's time for the games.

Oh, yeah.

Back in five.

So, who is ready for some musical statues?

Yay!

- Anything? - No.

We should get going.

We're not gonna be able to see 'em coming. We'll be trapped.

Yeah, well, if they come from the sea, I've got us covered.

They're not fucking Vikings.

Seriously, we should get going.

We could get to the boats.

Not without being seen.

I'll distract them.

Keep them at the house.

- You sure? - Yeah.

When the time is right, you make a run for it.

What a legend.

Bird takes flight.

- It's eased off. I think I can move now. - Just loosen it. Loosen it.

- River, you could be seen... - We'll be fine.

What will you do when you get to the cars?

- We'll get help. - It's too dangerous.

- We can't sit here, Catherine. - What we gonna do?

- Stay here and wait for them to find us? - Okay.

- Just trust us. - Be careful.

- It'll be fine, okay? - We'll be back.

I promise, okay?

Be careful.

There's no escape over the cliffs.

They'll have to head this way.

Hold back.

Come on.

There's one of them still up there.

Do you reckon we can make it to the cars?

She's fucking moving.

What? No, she is.

Keep playing.

What if you could give Moscow

the double agent mastermind behind Kazan?

What are we talking about?

Oh, come on, Natasha. You want out of this.

Otherwise I'd be in a basement by now, getting my ribs broken.

I'm listening.

Well, Moscow needs scalps to make up for the humiliation.

What if you could give them the double agent behind the whole fucking thing?

There is no double agent mastermind.

No.

I'm not asking you if you'd buy it.

I'm asking you, can you sell it?

So wait, are we just gonna sit here?

Flyte said to move when the time's right.

Right, when will that be?

Don't worry, I'll know.

I'll feel her.

Right, so we're fucked then?

Shit.

What the heck was that?

Fuck.

- Quick! - I'm coming.

Oh, shit.

Fuck.

He's moved. I'll cover.

I understand. All reservations are canceled for today.

This way.

- Please. - Please move away.

Hi, Diana.

What's, uh...

...what's all this?

You were supposed to meet certain people here.

Mmm. Not illegal.

No, but it would have been fatal.

So I called in a bomb threat.

Does the name Jackson Lamb mean anything to you?

He has discovered that I have taken money from you,

and that your money

is Russian money.

Well...

...if the head of MI5 had accepted private finance

which ultimately came from the Kremlin,

I would say that was her problem, not her benefactor's.

Not if she then used that money

to fund an off-books assassination on Russian soil.

- What? - I used your money

to finance an unauthorized killing of a Russian agent in Russia.

One could enjoy the irony if one had the bandwidth.

Who-Who-Who knows... Who knows about this?

Lamb. Lamb knows.

And he's out for revenge.

You leaked his agents to the GRU. He's gonna throw us both to the wolves.

- Jesus. Fuck! - I bought us time.

We have about two minutes before they finish sweeping and find there is no bomb.

Your car will take you to an airfield where a plane is waiting.

The pilot has flight clearance for four different locations.

I do not want to know which one you choose.

Wait, hold on...

I can protect us both as long as I remain First Desk,

and to do that I need you as far away from me as possible.

Russian... Lamb-Lamb has not told the Russians yet

what you used my money for, has he-he?

Yes, he has.

No, no, no, get rid of that.

That's the first thing they'll track.

Laslow. La-Laslow.

Laslow!

Las...

Who the fuck are you?

Well, I'm obviously not Laslow.

What the fuck is... Oy!

What the fuck is going on?

Let me... Let me... Let me out of this car.

Come on, come on.

I can fucking do it.

Oh, Louisa.

Oh, Louisa.

Louisa, you all right?

Oh, my God. Oh, no.

Okay, it's still quiet. We need to get to the boats.

Shit, your arm. Are you hurt?

- No, it's just a scratch. - Let me see.

What the...

Shirley, is-is that a stick-on tattoo?

The ladies like it.

Oh, the ladies? What ladies?

Trust me, you'd be more appealing if you were actually bleeding out.

Right, both of you get up. We need to move.

If I have to carry him, I won't be fast enough.

Let's just leave him here. We can pick him up later.

What is wrong with you?

You're a fucking hero, aren't you?

Yeah.

Fuck's sake.

Okay, well... I'll bring in the boats close,

so that all you have to do is just get down the beach.

- Good. Sounds good. - Stay with him.

Just press down.

I don't know where it's coming from.

- Me. It's coming from me. - Let's have a look. Get this out.

Here, come on.

Oh, my God.

- Oh, shit. - Fuck!

Press, pr-press down. Keep the pressure up.

Press hard into that.

- Louisa, my dear. That's it. - Here. Breathe.

Good girl. There, that's it.

No fucking way.

Fuck!

Take a look.

I saw movement down there.

What is that?

A godsend.

Where's Ho?

Apparently, the lone wolf finds his own path.

So basically, he's fucked off and left us.

Of course he has.

Reece, I might have to show you how to use this.

What?

- Why? - So you can defend yourself.

But you're here.

Yeah, so you can defend yourself if I'm not.

I've never killed anyone before.

It's not as hard as you think.

All right.

You know, I-I'd never even seen a dead body till this week.

And my dad, he was...

You know, those memories, you just need to learn to deal with them.

- How? - Bury them.

Just push 'em down really deep. Pretend they're not there, okay?

Louisa.

- She needs medical attention. - I know.

Right, well, what do I do?

I can help.

What?

- I can help. - Moira, you don't help.

- That's the point. - Show me how the gun works.

Don't be ridiculous.

Look, I know I'd be useless in the field, but I could stay here.

And I can protect her whilst you get help.

So show me how it works.

Safety catch.

- Yeah, cool. - Okay.

Red means go. Okay?

Yeah. Okay.

Okay.

Um... I'll be back quick.

Nice shot.

Ow.

To be really clear with you, I am a billionaire, okay?

That is not a millionaire. I've not got a hundred million.

I've got thousands of millions at my disposal.

There is nothing I cannot do for you.

If it's legal, if it's medical, I know... I know everybody.

Think very carefully. This is an opportunity for you right here.

Do you understand me?

Hello!

Hello!

- Yeah? - Jackson, it's me.

Listen, no more going dark. We're under attack. We need backup now.

Flyte's dead.

Louisa's been badly wounded, and God knows what's happened to the others.

Can you hear me?

Jackson, are you there...

Frank Harkness. Call him off.

I... I...

Call him off.

And I'll see what I could do for you.

It's ringing.

Who is this?

Stand down.

Okay. The-The-The mission is aborted.

Can you hear me?

I... I want you to stand down. The mission is aborted!

Can you hear me? I said abort...

Very good. Excellent. Okay, thank you.

That's done. That's done. Okay?

All right, so...

Hey, you said you would help me!

I lied.

Get out.

- Lamb. - Yeah, Diana.

Your holiday home in Suffolk.

What about it?

Send help. Send it now.

Just wait a second. Okay? Can you just...

- Keep going. - Can you please! Would you...

You want one?

Where are the others?

Your friends? Down on the beach.

Not all of them of course.

Reece?

Oh, the target is still standing.

The job changed shape.

Everything changes shape.

Sure you won't have one?

Yeah, fuck it. Why not?

Why were you at the funeral?

I wasn't at the funeral. I was at a recce.

The funeral just happened to be there. So...

synchronicity.

You know, you need to get rid of that delusion

that I am intent on ruining your life.

Delusion?

"They fuck you up, your mom and dad." Isn't that what we're promised?

But, you know, River, sometimes Daddy just doesn't have the time.

Huh.

Well, if I'm so irrelevant, why did you just kill her?

Hmm.

I took out the target with the gun, rather than the one with the...

whatever the fuck that is.

It's a table lamp.

Right. Table lamp.

Not what you imagined when you joined the Park, huh?

Oh, yeah, 'cause I forgot you-you're right at the top of your game, aren't you?

Oh, no. I'm the same as I always was. It's the jobs that got small.

Well, if there's something you wanna get off your chest,

I guess now will be the time.

Can you not just have been a normal dad?

What did you have in mind?

Like a train driver or postman?

Anything.

Anything really.

Maybe just not a contract killer.

You know, one day you should take a good hard look

at what your granddad got up to.

That will complete your education pretty quick.

Although, I don't know.

Maybe the Old Bastard did get a few things right.

I should go.

He went that way!

Ms. Taverner, the Home Secretary will see you now.

You're aware of the gravity of this charge?

Yes.

Treason committed by someone who has held

one of the highest offices in the land.

Yes.

Well...

Peter Judd was always a poisonous little toad.

But I have to say, I never thought him capable of this.

I think betraying his country was a by-product and not the point.

He was simply currying favor with people

he thought could get him back to where he belonged.

To the Home Office?

No, I think he was aspiring to...

...to rather more than getting his old job back.

Where's Damien Cantor now?

We assume Russia. But we can't be sure.

I have to say, Diana, in flushing out this threat,

you've shown an extraordinary mixture of brilliant strategy and appalling judgment.

I was rather hoping that the former might be seen to eclipse the latter.

When you became aware that the money you had taken

was, in effect, Russian money,

you chose to tell no one.

Not even me. Why?

Well, speaking frankly, Oliver,

I was concerned that involving you might act as an early warning to Judd.

You did go to school together,

and I simply couldn't be sure of how strong those ties were.

- Home Secretary... - I have people in position

ready to move on Judd. Do I have your authorization to proceed?

Hmm.

Thank you, Home Secretary.

Thank you.

Roddy... Don't point that thing at me.

You ready?

Yeah.

It's time.

Yeah. I'm doing it, Catherine.

Now.

We're leaving.

Um... Moira sends her apologies.

She's busy making sure we all get paid next month.

Yeah.

What you got there?

It's from my granddad's cellar.

Oh. Give us a look.

I think it's quite a nice one.

Oh, yeah. Lovely.

- Don't all rush to help. - Right. Sorry.

I'm fine.

- Something like that? - Yeah.

I'm not coming back, by the way.

Catherine invited me here.

It's not Hotel California.

For every joe

who's fallen in the field.

No. Go ahead.

For Coe.

What?

I've been in the game longer than you.

Nice drop of malt, that.

Oh, River. River.

Sorry. I have a message for you from your grandfather's neighbor.

She gave me her phone number. It's here somewhere.

Um... Something about the light being left on in the house for a few days.

Think she's worried about squatters.

Hold on. It's here somewhere.

Sorry. Give me a minute. Hang on. Hang on.

It's here somewhere.

Where is it?

Tea.

Have you heard something? About River?

Yeah, funny enough I got a postcard.

"Weather's lovely in the afterlife. Sunsets to die for. Love and hugs."

The head of the GRU, Vassily Rasnikov, arrived on UK soil unannounced.

And that man sent a death squad to murder four of my joes.

Well, funny that, how they're your joes once they're dead.

That hurt my feelings.

Takes some fucking balls going after you.

I'm gonna chop that little fucker, Sparrow, off at the ankles.

Back in the field, hey, Diana?

I won't have to put up with you for a little while.

Fuck you!

You're going to rehab.

How long has Rasnikov been in the country

getting up to fuck knows what?

Something's going down. I can feel it in my balls.

We could be looking at a death toll into the thousands.

Jesus Christ.

This hotel is nonsmoking.

I think that horse has already bolted.

I'm here to get on top of impulse control issues.

Oy.

You're a spy. You know it. I know it.

This will be a overdue reckoning.

You got gravy on your shirt.

Yeah, I'm saving it for later.

With the rest of the meal on your trousers?

Fuck off.