All language subtitles for our.girl.s05e05.hdtv.x264-river

Calm down! Fingers!

Everybody clear.

Time of death, 08:49.

We've all lost a terrific
soldier and a friend.

Everything's gonna be OK.

Cheese, this is Two Section.

All right, Mimi.

What would people make of
this new you, back home?

I'm going to knock that
geezer into next week!

Fingers was nothing to them, man.

You weren't his mate or mine!

- You're looking at me like I'm mad.
- You are... mad.

He has known links with ISIS.

Is it true?

You're thinking about doing a
deal with Omar and letting him off?

You will be confined to barracks

and placed on restricted duties
until it can be determined

whether you are fit enough
to continue in the army.

What are you doing up, Georgie?

- You should be in bed.
- Hm. I could say the same for you.

- I couldn't sleep.
- You all right?

Just got a lot going
round in my head, you know?

Yeah, I know the feeling.

I still don't understand why you've
been confined to the barracks.

Because no-one's going to give
someone a weapon with PTSD, are they?

Is that what you've got?

No, I haven't got that. But
they don't know that, do they?

- You know what we need?
- What?

A large coffee, because
something tells me

we're not gonna get
any shut eye tonight.

- (AMBULANCE SIRENS WAIL)
- Medic!

Medic!

You're needed in resus.

Six US soldiers have been
injured in a road side attack.

- Colour.
- Lane. Lane.

- The order's for Private Saunders.
- What?

No. It's fine. You've got
this. Go on. You've got this.

Go, go, go, go, go, go. Kingy.

- This is crazy. I've come here to do a job.
- Look, it's not my call.

- I'm sorry.
- So are they actually thinking about sending me home?

Just rest up.

- We'll talk about it in the morning.
- No, no, no! What do you expect me to do?

- Count bandages?
- Sorry.

- Kingy?
- Come on. Quick as you can, please.

♪ Can you hear the people
marching louder than the drums? ♪

♪ Can you hear the people
coming louder than the drums? ♪

♪ Can you hear the people
marching louder than the drums? ♪

♪ Can you hear the people coming? ♪

♪ Can you hear the people marching ♪

- ♪ Louder than the drums? ♪
- ♪ This is our battle cry ♪

♪ Can you hear the people marching ♪

- ♪ Louder than the drums? ♪
- ♪ This is our battle cry ♪

Do you know what I don't understand?

Quantum physics. The laws of gravity?

Who decided that
breakfast had to be beans,

- scrambled egg and sausages?
- And they say philosophy's a dying art.

Why not lamb bhuna or sweet-
and-sour chicken, Hong Kong style?

You ever thought about running
in the elections, Throbber?

You'd get my vote.

Did you notice Fingers never
liked his food touching?

And he'd make like this little corridor

using his beans and scrambled egg.

Don't forget the face
he'd make with his ketchup.

Reckon he used to start
the day with a smile.

Cheesy bastard.

Take that sausage.

I bet it's never even been near a pig.

That's because it's a
turkey sausage, Throbber.

It's just crushed up
eyeballs, bones and brains.

Thanks.

No worries.

- I'm doing her a favour.
- How exactly?

She's not gonna be able to eat when
she's in a straitjacket, is she?

Wow!

Why're they wasting their
time sending me to a psych

when Throbber could do the job for them?

- Saunders. Over here.
- Let Mimi sit down, mate!

So what's the skinny
with you and Cheese,

because I'm definitely sensing
some sexual tension here?

Yeah, shut up, Monk.

We just come from the same
town. Everyone knows each other.

I bet you never even
got past her old man.

- How do you mean?
- What?

Some teacher let you crack
on with his daughter, did he?

Oh, yeah, yeah. No. That's right.

Her dad...

... the teacher.

I heard you had a rough night.

Yeah, er... two... two fatalities.

I still don't get why they've
stuck you on the subs bench.

Because I lost my cool, Monk.

How come?

Omar's trying to cut some
deal with the Americans.

I'm guessing he's hoping to start
a new life in another country

or at least not spend the
rest of his days in prison.

Wait? Hang on. Are you telling
me that prick's going to get off?

- We don't know that.
- He's a warlord, Prof.

They should be stringing
him up at the gate,

not getting into bed with him!

Boss is waiting to brief us so I
need you guys finishing up here.

Sergeant Lane.

What's the matter, Kingy?

I can't attend a briefing now?

Your psych assessment has
been arranged for this morning.

(SHE EXHALES)

Promise me you'll go in
there with an open mind.

Hey! You never know.

Talking to someone might actually help.

Colour.

You want to be careful.

Your government paid for those.

What is it with doctors and cigarettes?

It's something I always do
when I lose one of my men.

Yeah, Mimi said it was a tough night.

One guy was so badly burnt
I couldn't even identify him

- without his dental records.
- Shit!

A psych assessment?

Someone really is on the naughty step.

I should learn to keep my mouth shut.

Just when I was starting to get
used to that weird accent of yours.

Listen, I'm guessing whatever this
deal is they're making with Omar...

... it wasn't a decision
they took lightly.

Don't they even care about how
many innocent lives he's taken?

I suspect it's a little
more complicated than that.

I don't like it any more than you do

but sometimes you have to
look at the bigger picture.

Which is what exactly?

- Men like Omar...
- Yeah.

... they have knowledge
that's invaluable

in the fight against the Taliban.

And that's more important
than getting justice, is it?

You know what? Yeah.

I'm getting a little bit
sick of smoking these.

I'm sorry. I know...

I know it's not your fault.

- See you later.
- See you.

Special Forces should've put

a bullet in his head
when they had the chance.

And that would have
evened things up, would it?

Well, he can't cut a
deal if he's dead, can he?

I reckon they'll give
him a new identity.

Line him up with some
cushty job at Argos.

We could always slip the guard a bung.

Wipe that smug grin off his face.

Don't tempt me.

- I'll catch you up, yeah?
- Why? Where're you going?

See a man about a dog.

Seems like everyone's got a
secret. Isn't that right, Saunders?

Watch where you're going, you prick.

Eh! No harm done.

You need to learn a
little bit of respect, son.

Look, just leave it. I
don't want any more beef.

Prof, on me.

Listen, listen.

You're not going to
say anything, are you?

'Course not.

We're mates, aren't we?

And besides... I don't want your
dad giving me detention, do I?

Last night's roadside attack was
yet another attempt by militants

to undermine confidence
in the upcoming elections.

Increased security
measures are now in place

- at checkpoints across Kabul.
- Sit up.

Sit them at ease, Colour Sergeant.

At ease.

- Please continue, Mr Hurst.
- Sir.

Today. Throbber, Cheese. You
two are on Guardian Angel duty.

We have two US officials
arriving from Washington.

- Sir.
- All right. Are there any questions?

- Is this to do with Omar, sir?
- I'm sorry?

We've just heard he's cutting
some deal with the Americans.

That is not your concern.

But he will still pay
for what he did, won't he?

I think we've heard
enough from you, Private.

Perhaps your efforts
would be better spent

cleaning your bunk and
kit ahead of inspection.

Colour.

Right, everyone! Dismissed.

It would appear insubordination
is now rife among your platoon.

Tensions are running high, yes, sir.

We've just lost one of our men,

to an insurgent who,

- by all accounts, might well evade justice.
- His interrogation

is at a critical stage, Mr Hurst.

I won't see their hard work
undermined by idle chatter.

- Is that understood?
- Sir.

I would suggest your
efforts are better spent

concentrating on the task at hand.

I take it the Afghan recruits will
be ready for passing out next week?

The men are in fine shape, sir.

Then I look forward to
seeing them in action.

You have 30 minutes until
I arrive for inspection.

Someone looks deep in thought.

Sorry, I was miles away.

I wasn't expecting to see you here.

I've just been officially discharged.

- What did they say?
- I'm showroom new...

... apart from three cracked ribs.

It's the bruises you can't see...

They're the ones that
take longer to heal.

I take it you've heard about Omar?

What about him?

I'm sorry. I assumed you knew.

There's some talk of him doing
a deal with the Americans.

Of course there is.

You don't sound surprised?

Nothing about this country
surprises me any more.

You know Taliban warlords
have been elected as governors

with the assistance of Allied military?

Which is why you need
to win these elections.

I sometimes wonder if
the fight's already lost.

Moving on from what we've
covered outside, in open order,

right, dress.

Eyes front.

Centre and rear ranks, stand at ease.

Afghan Platoon, in open order,
awaiting your inspection, sir.

Thank you, Mr Hurst. This whole
line needs to be more evenly spaced.

- Late night was it, Cadet?
- Sir?

My aged mother makes quicker turns.

Run out of boot polish, did you?

- No, sir.
- Scuffed and unpolished,

rather like your performance here today.

I'll see you in your
office in five minutes.

They're a mess.

They're nowhere near
ready for passing out.

This is Sandhurst in the
Sand for Christ's sake.

If we can't turn those
men into soldiers,

we might as well pull down
the shutters and go home.

You need to come down
harder on them, Mr Hurst.

It takes a firm hand

- to keep a troop in line.
- Sir.

I want them ready for action.

Enough time has passed for
me to start seeing results.

They're not in bad shape.

The Brig's just feeling
the strain, that's all.

Yeah, that's easy for you to say!
It's not your balls in the vice.

Sergeant Lane.

Captain Emma Preston.

I'm a clinical psychologist.

I wasn't expecting you to be in uniform.

I'm also a serving officer.

Come in.

- Would you like a glass of water?
- No. I'm fine, thank you, Ma'am.

I think we can dispense with
the formalities, don't you?

Take a seat.

I take it you've been fully
briefed as to why we're here today?

I'd just got back from
a funeral, and I, er...

... I said things in
the heat of the moment.

I shouldn't have let my
emotions get the better of me.

You recently lost a member
of your platoon, I believe?

Fingers. Sorry, Private Stille.

He was married to my sister.

That must have been difficult.

Yeah. It was.

He was like a brother to me.
I served six tours with him.

That's a lot to process for anyone.

You just throw yourself
back in your work, you know.

Carry on the best you can.

Would you say you're good at
compartmentalising your feelings?

What does that mean?

It's a way of coping.

You put things to the back of your mind

until you're ready to deal with them.

Yeah, I suppose so. Yeah.

The problem is

there's only so long you can
keep those feelings locked away.

It's a bit like trying to
close a door in a storm.

Well,

I'm from Manchester so I'm
used to the bad weather.

I've been asked to examine Aatan Omar.

I'm Dr Antonio from the US Army.

I'm here to give you
a physical examination

to see if you're fit to
continue to be questioned.

I'm going to start
with a simple eye test.

Just keep looking
straight in front of you.

Lie down for me.

Tell me if you feel any discomfort.

(HE WINCES SOFTLY)

Have you experienced
any nausea or vomiting?

We're going to have to bring
you in and get that looked at.

Tell me about Captain Elvis Harte.

He was your fiancé I believe?

Briefly. Yeah.

He was killed in
operations here in Kabul.

You must have been devastated?

Yeah. I was at the time.

But, you know, you carry
on the best you can.

You try and move on.

And it's not like there's not
been anyone else. There was...

There was one.

Captain James.

He was a good friend of mine
and he was more of a comfort,

rebound situation...

... but at least I was moving on.

It's not always that easy though, is it?

It's how I was brought up.

You dust yourself off, you carry on.

I got that from me nan.

Is that why you chose not to take leave?

I didn't think I needed to.

But even so... Coming back
to Afghanistan must have

- stirred up a lot of memories for you.
- I'm here to do a job.

I don't allow time for distractions.

Right.

I think we've probably got as
far as we're going to get today.

- They think I've got PTSD, don't they?
- Not necessarily.

But let's not rule
anything out at this stage.

What do you think?

I think we should continue
our assessment tomorrow.

OK.

It's funny.

I've been a serving officer
for nearly 12 years now.

And I still can't stand
the sight of blood.

Well, thank God you're not a medic.

Just out of interest.

If you were tending to a deep cut...

... how would you go about treating it?

First of all, I'd make
sure the wound is cleaned.

Then I'd make the decision
whether to stitch it up

or to put a gauze on there.

Why not just leave it to the elements?

Because it would get infected.

And the wound would fester?

Then it's rather like grief.

Treat it and you can begin to heal.

But leave it untouched

and it can start to do some real damage.

Ma'am.

The Brigadier thinks the Afghan
army is a fucking shambles,

so it's down to us
to roll up our sleeves

and turn these grunts
into soldiers. Understood?

ALL: Colour.

It won't be long before
they're operating without us,

so I don't want any more soft soaping.

It's time to grab them by the balls

and start knocking them into shape.

You can count on us, Colour.

Thank you, Throbber.

I'll sleep soundly in my bunk knowing
they've got you as their mentor.

Talk about the blind leading the blind.

Right, have some scoff
and a good night's sleep.

I want you in full kit on the
training field at 0600 hours.

How come it's down to us
to sort out the Afghans?

- It's not our fault they're all shit.
- Come on.

We all know the life
expectancy of an Afghan soldier.

The least we can do is make sure

- they're at the top of their game, yeah?
- Waste of time.

You coming for some scoff?

Actually, I might, er...

stay and read for a bit.

Oh! Virginia Woolf?

Didn't have you down as a fan
of feminist literature, lad.

I bet Mrs Dalloway's a right dirty mare!

And he's back in the room.

Hello, boy.

I told you I'd come back, didn't I?

Hey. Guess what?

I've got you something to
make your poorly leg better.

Dinner is served.

Courtesy of Two Section.

Hey, it's fish fingers tomorrow.

I know you're missing your mates
but at least you got Throbber, eh?

I'll see you soon, yeah.

You've been sneaking
off to feed some dog?

He's injured, in't he?

- And he's out here on his own.
- What's got in to you, Throbber?

Willy Wonka, one minute,
Doctor Dolittle, the next.

You've got more important
things to be worrying about

- than some fucking mutt.
- (DEJECTED BARK)

He can understand you, you know.

He's got feelings, just like we have.

- If that was my Mitzy, I swear to God...
- Hang on.

I thought Mitzy was some
girl you were knocking off,

- back in Wolverhampton?
- She's a pit bull cross.

There was me thinking

you were the Black Country's
answer to Zayn Malik.

Turns out you get a
stalk-on watching Lassie.

Fuck off, Monk.

His paw's bust and
no-one here gives a shit!

Listen. I've got a mate in
the dog handling division.

Why don't I ask him
if he knows something?

Nice one, Cheese.

It's good to know someone's got my back.

Right. Let's get out of here,

or your mate won't be the
only one missing his balls.

Lane.

I thought you'd be locked up by now.

No. No such luck, Throbber.

You sure you're allowed to talk to us?

The Americans could
be watching, you know!

- See you, nutter.
- See you.

- So how's your day been?
- Awful.

It's shit out there without you.

You might have to get used to it.

Why? What're you saying?

This is just temporary, isn't it?

It's not my decision.

Look, maybe it'll do you
some good to talk to someone.

What do you mean?

Well, no-one's invincible, Georgie,

and there's no shame in
admitting you need help.

Not you and all.

I'm just saying that
you've been through a lot,

- haven't you so...
- So you think I'm crazy as well, yeah?

- No. Of course I don't!
- All right.

Thanks for your support, Prof.

Georgie...

(MUSIC: WHERE THE TIME
WENT BY ELENA TONRA)

♪ Keep your distance ♪

♪ South of river ♪

♪ Draw a line ♪

♪ They are not together ♪

♪ Make it screech,
stop, wait, turn red ♪

♪ Make me wonder where the time went. ♪

VOICES: You recently lost
a member of your platoon.

Thank you, thank you, Georgie Lane.

Maybe it'll do you some
good to talk to someone.

Fit and ready for anything the
army's going to throw at me.

There is a cause for concern.

Would you say you're good at
compartmentalising your feelings?

- You're looking at me like I'm mad.
- You are mad.

Do you think I'm crazy and all?

- I thought you'd be locked up by now?
- It's a way of coping.

You put things to the back of your mind

until you're ready to deal with them.

Fucking hollow pain
that never goes away.

There's only so long you can
keep those feelings locked away.

Sometimes, I can feel my knees buckling.

Did you ask your mate about the dog?

Reckons he was shot by the
Taliban whilst out on patrol.

- Mate says he's pork pied.
- What does that mean?

I don't know. Mincemeat, I suppose.

Off to doggy heaven, bless him.

- You mean they're going to put him down?
- Mm-hm.

- But he was injured in the line of duty...
- Enough about this dog. Let's focus.

Right. Two Section, gather round.

For this training exercise,
intelligence suggests

that an insurgent is currently
lying low in this disused building.

Your job is to systematically
search each room, shouting 'clear'

if the room is empty of target.

If you find an assailant,
cuff them and bring them out.

Always remember, you're working
for the soldier next to you

and not for yourselves.

Rabee, on me, clearing the left
room. Cheese, Poya, take the right.

All right. Prepare to move. Move!

All right, Rabee, I need you to listen
to everything I'm about to tell you.

- Oi, silly bollocks. Are you with us?
- Sir.

- Focus... Everything.
- Yes, sir. Yes, sir.

For fuck's sake, get a grip!

- Eyes on me.
- OK.

As soon as this door opens,
you cover the room to the left.

- Do you understand?
- Yes, sir.

Cover him.

CS gas has been deployed.

- Cover me while I put my mask on.
- Covering.

Now put your mask on.

Shit!

Fucking idiot.

Wake up, silly bollocks,

- and get your mask on!
- I can't see anything.

Do you not fucking understand English?

- Get your mask on!
- Hands up!

Hands up! Stand up! Stand up!

Nice one, Rabee.

- Suspect located.
- Copy that!

Right! Anyone got any further
questions before we move on?

ALL: No, Colour.

Right. Speak to your mentors.

Right. Listen, pull this in
to your arm. Nice and solid.

Oh, can't you breathe, Poya?

Well, you should have
listened, shouldn't you?

I told you to put your mask on.

- Where the hell is Cheese?
- POYA: My eyes. My eyes.

Help me.

We need a medic! Rabee, cover me!

- Covering.
- For fuck's sake.

- He dropped his mask, mate. I can't find it anywhere.
- I've got you.

- I've got you.
- I fucking told him.

Find your mask, Poya. Come on, mate.

Cheese, do something
useful. Take my fucking gun.

(COUGHING)

Stay calm, Poya. I've got you.

Medic, over here.

(COUGHING AND SPLUTTERING)

- I'm on my way!
- Sit there. Sit there.

Deep breaths, yeah.

What the fuck was he
doing without his mask on?

Told you. He dropped it.

Look. Let's just bag and tag the suspect

and get the hell out of here.

Don't worry. The first
sting's always the worst. OK?

Don't worry, mate. It
happens to the best of us.

Head back. There we are.

Guys!

Guys, we've got a problem...

- Cheese, on me.
- It's all right.

You'll start to feel
better in a minute, Poya.

He's gone.

Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!

What the hell happened?

He must've panicked, Colour.

Got disorientated while
putting on his mask.

I didn't panic.

When you're given an
instruction, Cadet...

Cadet!

You follow. Understood?

Colour.

Saunders. Take Poya to the
medical facility for a check up.

You can thank me later.

Right I think it's fair to
say that that was complete

and utter fucking bullshit.

So, I want you all in
positions ready to go again.

- Let's move.
- ALL: Colour.

Maybe the Brig had a point.

Is that your partner?

Sally.

My mum and dad met when they were 14.

My dad was on the way
home from a boxing club

and Mum came round the
corner on a chopper.

And Mum being my mum, kerbed it,

went flying. Middle of the road.

Been together ever since.

Tell me about Elvis, Georgie.

What do you want to know?

What's one residing
memory you have of him?

You don't like talking
about him, do you?

Not particularly. No.

And why is that?

Because no good ever comes
from dragging up the past.

Tell me about the day he died.

It was a radio-controlled IED.

I tried to administer first aid

but it was too late. Elvis was dead.

It must make you angry?

All those plans you had together, gone,

in the blink of an eye.

Elvis knew the risks.

But what about you?

No good can come from being angry.

And...

... you don't think
you would have benefited

from a leave of absence?

Me being at home,
feeling sorry for myself,

wouldn't have helped anybody.

It would have given you a
chance to grieve, Georgie.

And believe it or not, it doesn't
fit into some convenient schedule.

It seems to me you're a rock

for your colleagues and your family.
But who's there to hold you up?

You can't be everything to everybody.

Can we leave that there for today?

I've got a splitting headache.

Of course.

He used to sleep with
his arm under my pillow.

Said he'd always be there if I fall.

But he's not, is he?

It must make you angry.

All those plans you had together, gone.

I want to make sure you're
ready to dive straight back in.

No good ever comes from
dragging up the past.

Just make everything OK.

At some point, something's got to give.

You dust yourself off and carry on.

- Medic!
- Sergeant Lane!

Georgie!

Georgie. Wait up...

How did you get on?

They haven't discharged me yet.

We could have done with you
on the training exercise today.

Yeah, well, you should've
fought harder for me then.

That's a bit below the belt.

Did you fight my corner
with the Brig or not?

Look, you're in my chain of command.

You know we can't discuss this with you.

Yeah, and you're also my friend, Kingy.

- At least I thought you were.
- Georgie...

Listen. Listen.

If I get sent home...

... we're done.

Flash...

I heard you took the
Taliban on single-handed.

You're a boss little soldier, ain't you?

You've got to promise me you're going
to be a big brave boy, all right?

You're a hero, Flash.

And I would have taken
that bullet for you.

There you go.

And when you're in doggy heaven

you can have all the
sausage you can eat.

And there'll be rabbits too.

And no-one will bollock
you if you chase them.

(LAST POST ECHOES)

You've done your country proud.

You look after yourself, yeah?

(DOG WHIMPERS)

So long, Flash.

Ah, please.

Please, give me something to do.

I'll even clean out your supply
cupboards if you want me to.

- Is it really that bad?
- Seriously,

I had to stop myself putting
my pills in colour order.

You may be in luck.

This one got into an altercation
with some barbed wire.

He'll need cleaning and suturing.

Thank you!

Who needs flowers when a
deep laceration does the job?

Thanks. I really appreciate it.

Stick around. There's plenty
more where he came from.

No. I don't mean him.

You've been a really good mate.

So am I ever going to
get a tour of Manchester?

Assuming my liver can handle it?

No, you couldn't hack it.

Why? You worried your
mother wouldn't approve?

My mum? Are you joking?

Bringing home a surgeon for tea.

She'd be straight on the phone
to the church, booking it.

Dr Antonio. Your patient's
here for his Cat scan.

Some warning might've been nice.

- What have we got?
- I think it's best you leave.

- What's he doing here?
- A suspected internal rupture.

Georgie, please. Don't get involved.

Come on. Why's there no Wi-Fi?

What's going on?

Oh, my days. Who's
hogging all the Wi-Fi?

- Throbber!
- Huh?

If this is you watching porn again...

(DOG WHINES)

What the fuck is that?

I don't see nothing.

What the hell have you done, Throbber?

I wasn't going to leave
him there to die, was I?

So what were you planning to do?

I ain't thought that far ahead.

That's you all over that is.

Don't be tight, Monk.

His heart was in the right place.

Last time you screwed up, we
were all up to our necks in shit.

You could get kicked out for
this. You know that, don't you?

That's something I'll have to live with.

You'd do that for a dog?

I'd do that for any of my mates.

Right, that's it. I'm taking
him back to the kennels.

- You can't!
- Throbber...

Don't you think we've seen
enough death on this tour?

Monk. Please.

I'm begging you.

You heard Cheese. He's
going to be pork pied.

I need my bloody head testing.

You serious?

It's either that or we
see him get kicked out.

You hear that, boy? You're
part of Two Section now.

This is just temporary.
You know that, don't you?

- So where do we take him after this?
- We?

- I've done my bit.
- Come on, hurry up.

OK, Flash. I need you to stay
here until I come back for you,

all right? Yeah?
Remember, Flash, remember,

eyes 360 throughout.

- Leave off. Like he understands you, you muppet.
- Shut up.

- He's cleverer than he looks.
- He's smarter than you, that's for sure.

- You want some water?
- Throbber!

- How about you hurry up?
- OK. Drink. Stay. Stay. Stay.

- I love you. I love you.
- Love you?

Shhh!

So, Throbber, what's your
next bright idea for this dog?

This morning at 0600 hours,

we will be launching
Operation Strike Cobra.

Full kit. 20 minutes.

Intelligence suggests two suspects
are responsible for cultivating bombs

in the back room of a laundry

in the Ka Faroshi district of Kabul.

It's a Taliban stronghold.

The whole area is potentially volatile.

There's every likelihood
that these insurgents

intend to strike at
next week's election.

Stabilisers are well and
truly off today, Saunders.

You better not mess this up.

Our job is to locate and
extract the suspects in question.

You've got this, Mimi.

The safety of passers by is paramount.

We need to be vigilant at all times.

Here, Throbber. You heard the latest?

Apparently, the Americans are thinking

about sending Omar to Wolverhampton.

He wouldn't be the first.

We got an Afghan warlord
in our local chippy.

Mental Malek, they call him.

He once put a kid's hand
in the deep fat fryer.

I'm sorry about him.

He seems to have missed the
cultural sensitivity class.

Malek?

- You know him?
- He's my cousin.

Here, have a pipe at the
mood hoover, over there.

Crack us a smile, son.

Ignore him.

That's easy for you to say.

I'm so sick and tired
of you British people.

Poya! Don't have a pop at me.

- It's not my fault, is it?
- You lot are all the same.

- You don't care what devastation you bring.
- Poya.

- That's not fair. We're out here trying to help you.
- Help!

Who do you think killed more
civilians last year? Hmm?

- Because it wasn't the Taliban.
- All right, guys.

The objective of today's
operation is to move quickly

and to get out of there
as fast as possible.

ALL: Sir.

This is a thriving market.

If the enemy has eyes on,

we need to make sure we're not static

and can react to any
changes to the threat level.

I need you to be alert at all times.

In a clearance support role,

Team Oscar: Myself, Monk,
Rabee, Prof and Zarek.

(CHICKENS CLUCK)

Cheese, Throbber...

I need you to secure
the end of the street.

No-one in or out.

In a medical support role,

Private Saunders and Poya.

The area around the bomb
factory is highly sensitive.

Your vigilance could save lives today.

(HUM OF MARKET THRONG)

(PHONE RINGS)

Zero. Two Section standing by.

Let's go.

Zero. Clearance support has
entered the building. All eyes on.

VOICES FROM THE PAST:
Has anyone got eyes on Omar?

- Not seen.
- Not seen, boss.

Corridor clear. Insurgents not seen.

VOICES FROM PAST: All sites
are clear. Cease fire.

Approaching laundry.

Three, two, one.

- On me.
- (WOMEN SCREAM)

Friendlies. Friendlies.

Zarek.

ELVIS: Setting charges now.

Everyone, clear.

3,2,1!

(LOUD BOOM)

(PHONE RINGS)

- Stay back!
- Can we all just stay calm!

I told you! Just stay back.

- Oi! Stay back.
- _

The crowd's getting lively!

Boss, be aware of the
crowd going up our side.

Entering! Hands up! Hands up!

- Room cleared. Nobody touch anything.
- They've gone.

Sir, they've legged it out the window.

- For fuck's sake.
- Zero, this is One Zero Alpha.

All rooms are cleared. Bomb making
factory found. Suspects gone.

I need you to withdraw
and return to location.

Roger and out.

_

- Cheese!
- What the hell, Cheese?

What have you done? He's an old man!

Cheese! What are you doing?

I did tell him.

Are you OK?

OK. Keep your head up! Let me see...

What the fuck's wrong with you?

You could have killed him.

Fuck off!

It's OK!

Zero, this is Four Zero Alpha
requesting urgent back up.

Shit. Tallboy, man the
gate. Keep eyes on me.

(AMBULANCE SIREN SOUNDS)

What on Earth were you thinking?

I told the geezer to stay back.

What was I supposed to do? Let
some randomer screw up the raid?

Can you hear me OK?

Right. I need you to patch him
up and return to the vehicle.

The Afghan Police and bomb disposal

- can deal with the fallout.
- But Colour...

Now, medic!

Before this situation
spirals out of control.

Right, let's move.

Poya, can you tell him that
he needs to go to the hospital

and get this cut on
his head checked out.

_

_

- Now, medic...
- I cannot just leave him, here, Colour.

I've got a duty of care.

And I have a duty of care to
save your arse, Private Saunders.

Then you're going to have
to go without me. I'm sorry.

Zero, this is One Zero Alpha.

Request from One Zero
Alpha for ambulance.

Serious civilian casualty, out.

Can you ask him his name and... ?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Listen, I
need you to stay with me, OK?

Colour, we need to hurry, Colour.

We don't have time to wait
for an ambulance, Colour.

- We need to get him to a hospital now.
- We need to follow procedure, medic.

Well, he might have a bleed on his brain

so I can't just leave
him here to die, can I?

- There we go.
- Hey!

We have an elderly man
with suspected concussion.

- We need to get him to a hospital ASAP.
- OK, OK, OK.

All right, medic. Let's move.

Satisfied, medic?

Oh, Sergeant Lane.

We don't have an appointment.

I've just listened in on the operation.

You know,

you asked me why I came back here

to Afghanistan.

It's because this place is the
only thing I have left of Elvis.

You know,

I told myself that I was needed here.

That's a lie.

I had to be here.

It's the only place I feel

close to him and I
know it sounds stupid...

It doesn't sound stupid.

But all I keep seeing is that explosion.

It's playing like a loop in my mind.

Going over and over and over
and I see myself running...

... but I'm not quick enough.

You know, maybe if
I'd got there sooner...

Elvis died as a result
of the blast, Georgie.

- There was nothing you could do.
- No, no, no.

He shouldn't have been up
there in the first place.

They lured him into a trap.

And the guy responsible is
getting treated like some VIP.

I can't escape him.

He's at home.

He's in my head. I close
me eyes, he's there.

It's like he's following me around.

And he's taunting me.

How does that make you feel?

I want to hurt him.

I want to hurt him.

I want him to know how it feels

to get his heart ripped from his chest.

And I know it sounds wrong

and I shouldn't be thinking
like that but I'm angry.

I'm angry

because he took everything
from me, from us.

Wedding, children...

All the memories we should
be sharing together...

You know what, as well?

I look at my mum and dad

and I'm jealous,

because I will never
have what they have.

Will I?

Because my soul mate...

... the person I was meant to spend
the rest of my life with, is gone!

And he's not coming back.

And there's nothing I can do about it.

- Saunders, good work today. Poya, you too.
- Sir.

Cheese.

What the hell went down
with you and that old man?

He was coming at me, Colour.
Acting in an aggressive manner.

He was an old codger.

I gave him clear instruction
but he wouldn't listen.

Isn't that right, Throbber?

It's like he said, Colour.

Medic?

Yes, Colour.

I want a full statement in
your after-incident reports.

ALL: Colour.

What's the big deal?

He's just some flip flop.

Whoa, whoa, whoa. Leave it!

Just ignore him.

He's chatting bollocks.

If you guys want to come by later

I've been saving up the
Wi-Fi for the Hammers game.

Hammers? Look more like Millwall?

Just when I was starting to like my man.

Anyway. Later.

We're cool?

Chelsea boy.

How are you feeling?

(SHE SIGHS) Like I've just done
one of Kingy's workouts: full kit.

Be kind to yourself, Georgie.

Remember, you need time to heal too.

I know I did.

Sally?

Cervical cancer.

It will be three years in November.

I'm sorry.

It may not seem like it now

but it does get easier.

So is that me and you done now?

This isn't the end, Georgie.

This is just the start for you.

The key now is to keep talking.

Whether that's here in
Afghanistan or to someone at home.

That's certainly the recommendation
I'll be making in my report.

So does that mean I can
go back to active duty?

Unfortunately, the final
decision doesn't rest with me.

But, if it's any consolation,

I don't think you have PTSD.

You're grieving, Georgie.

It doesn't detract from
your abilities as a soldier.

- Thank you.
- Thank you, Ma'am.

Thank you.

Stand up.

Stand easy, guys.

That was really good
work today, Two Section.

It's just a shame they
were one step ahead of us.

As a special treat, I've arranged
for you to watch the Hammers' game

- on the big screen in the mess.
- Nice one, sir.

We'd also like you to keep an eye
out for a missing military dog.

Because at approximately 21:00

the dog in question is due
to fly back to Melton Mowbray.

Melton Mowbray?

The home of the humble pork pie no less.

What's he doing there, Colour?

Convalescing at the Defence
Animal Training Regiment

whilst they get him
ready for civilian life.

So they're not going to put him down?

The only hardship that
dog's going to face

is whether he has rabbit
or chicken for his dinner.

So as Colour says, if
you hear of anything,

do let us know.

Don't shoot the messenger.
I just told you what I heard.

All you've got to do is put
the dog back where you found it.

How am I supposed to do that?

That dog's got more
eyes on him than Omar.

Fuck's sake. If I knew
I'd be working with kids,

I'd have stayed at home with my Thumper.

Come on!

I can't believe I'm missing the
Hammers' game for a fucking dog.

All right, Flash. You stay here, OK?

The chopper will come for you soon.

Good boy.

Safe trip, Flash.

- Let's go.
- (DOG WHINES)

Yo.

Did you see the way
he just looked at me?

Monk. Come on.

So were you just going to ignore me?

Sorry. My head's somewhere else.

- Have you got a sec?
- Yeah.

- Listen. What happened yesterday with Omar...
- Look. It's fine.

I just had to make sure he
was fit to be interrogated.

How was the psych assessment?

Really good.

I feel like a weight's been
lifted off my shoulders.

Well, if that's not a reason to
celebrate, I don't know what is.

Are you trying to get me drunk?

Unfortunately, it's non-alcoholic.
But we could always pretend.

- Aw, crap.
- Let me...

- Let me go find something to open this with.
- OK.

_

_

_

Actually, can we save
this beer for another time?

- Was it something I said?
- No, no. It's just...

Today's took it out of me. That's all.

OK.

See you tomorrow.

See you tomorrow.

Hey. I want a word with you, Cheese.

You are an absolute
psychopath! Do you know that?

And don't worry! I'm going to
make sure everyone of them knows

exactly what you did to that old man.

And what are your
little friends gonna say

when they find out what you really are?

You keep my secret...

... and I'll keep yours.

Georgie.

What are you doing here?

I found a file about
Omar on Antonio's desk.

- And?
- And...

He's just signed him fit to
be transferred to Pakistan.

You don't get it, do you?

He's known about Omar's
deal this whole time.

So, what else did the file say?

That he's leaving tomorrow.

So that's that, then?

Well,

not necessarily. No.

It's not too late to change your mind.

I need to look him in the eye, Prof.

This might be my only chance.

Who are you?

I'm the girl whose future you stole.

Elvis Harte.

He was my fiancé.

Don't look at him. He's
not going to help you.

You lured my fiancé into a trap...

... a radio-controlled IED.

Look at him.

LOOK at him.

He had his whole life ahead of him.

And you took him from me.

Georgie...

... we should go.

Because of you...

... I'm broken.

Have you got nothing to say?

Did you get what you want?

I thought I'd know as soon
as I looked him in the eye.

Know what?

Whether he was sorry.

I mean, there was nothing.

Not even a flicker.

What're you saying?

You'll think I'm mad...

Try me.

There was just something about him.

I don't know.

_

_

_

Warlords aren't exactly shy
in coming forward, are they?

Prof, he was just lying there, confused.

Your head has been all over the place.

Things aren't as you imagine them to be.

_

_

I thought I'd feel better...

... but I've just got this
gnawing feeling, inside my gut.

Saying what exactly?

Something ain't right here.

Today's election will go down

as a significant turning
point in Afghanistan's history

It is strange, isn't it?
They'll be insurgents somewhere,

stood in a room, staring at a map
of Kabul, looking for our weakness.

It's going to be carnage today, guys.

No wonder they don't trust us.

Important day. Let's try not to
spoil it with silly behaviour.

That's where my fiancé
was killed by Omar.

But you know about that.

Alert the bomb squad.

I want this whole wing
evacuated right now. Let's go!

Outside the cement factory. Sergeant
Lane in pursuit of insurgent!

Before you shoot me,
you tell me the truth!

This was NOT the way things
were supposed to have panned out.

Oh, my God!

You're Aatan Omar!

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