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Mr Philby, you were
asked to resign yourself

from the Foreign Office
a few months after

Burgess and Maclean disappeared.

And the Foreign Secretary
has said that, in the past,

you had communist associations.

Is that WHY you were asked to resign?

I was asked to resign because
of an imprudent association.

- That was your association with Burgess?
- Correct.

Would you still regard Burgess,

who lived with you for
a while in Washington,

would you still regard
him as a friend of yours?

How do you feel about him now?

I consider his action deplorable.

On the subject of friendship,

I prefer to say as little as possible,

as it's very complicated.

Vash kostyoom.

Something about him...

Chto?

You know.

_

If the dreaded Windsor knot has
somehow made its way to Russia,

please understand
there are certain things

I just cannot bring myself to do.

Nick?

Darling?

Are you down there?

I'm off.

I made you one cheese
and pickle and one ham.

If I'm late again tonight,
there's a casserole made.

All you have to do is heat it up.

Hey, come 'ere.

- You all right?
- One more kiss.

Good old British weather. Never fails.

I was just about to
leave for work meself.

May I come in for a minute?

- Morning.
- Morning.

Mr Angleton, I have a train to
catch, so, if you wouldn't mind,

just, you know... getting on with it.

Regarding what we talked
about last night...

It does seem a tad unorthodox, though.

Coming to my house like
this in broad daylight.

... or, more accurately,
what we didn't talk about...

Would you mind just staying on the mat?

Dripping all over me floor.

Keep talking, I'm listening.

To answer your question from last night,

obviously the reason I'm in London

is to keep an eye on our
friend, Mr Nicholas Elliott,

and what he may or may
not be up to. Unofficially?

Excuse me?

Last night, you said you
were in London unofficially.

Right.

Were you unofficially in Beirut...

- ... as well?
- No.

I was not.

CIA... coming all the way
up here to West Norwood.

What will my neighbours say?

I thought I might give
you a ride into town.

- Mind if I ask you something?
- Please.

Would you be doing all
this if I was a man?

Doing what?

I came out here to see if
there was a way for us to...

... work together.

- That's all.
- Officially or...

- ... unofficially?
- Pool our resources.

Exchange information.

Information?

You don't have anything
you feel it might be...

important to share?

I don't doubt for a moment
that you might be able

to fudge the difference between
"official" and "unofficial",

I can assure you that
I absolutely cannot.

Bloody hell, is that the time?
I need to get a wriggle on.

I'm gonna miss me train.

Fucking Guy fucking Burgess...

If you think about it,
it's fucking preposterous.

If he and I were both
spying for Russia...

Can't even finish the sentence.

If you were both KGB spies,
why invite him to stay with you?

Exactly, thank you.

And in Washington, of all
places. It'd be plain bloody daft.

Suicidal.

Look at me. Fucking water.

As a matter of interest, why
did you invite Guy to stay?

- Bloody hell, not you as well.
- It's a valid question, Kim...

Because friends, I hate to tell you,
help each other in times of need.

... and a question
others are bound to ask.

The man was adrift, dreadful
health, or so I thought...

- Hello, Mother.
- I thought I heard that voice.

- Hello, Mrs P. How are you?
- Oh, you know...

There they are.

That's it, didn't mean to interrupt.

- One for you, too.
- Where are you off to?

Don't let him smoke that beastly
pipe in my drawing room, Nick.

Leaves horrid smells in my cushions.

Make him go out to the garden.

Hairdresser then
Cullen's. Need anything?

Marmalade, and tonics,
and bitter lemons.

You're a good friend, Nick.

He's jolly lucky to have you.

- She have any idea what's going on?
- No, not as far as I know.

Hasn't asked why you came back
from America all of a sudden?

Oof, Lord, no. Far too proper for that.

Anyway, the point I
was trying to make is

- you are our man in Washington...
- I know what you're about to say.

... and amusing and adrift
as Guy might appear...

He'd just arrived in America,
he didn't know a soul,

- and I was worried about him.
- Because of his drinking?

Among other things.

If I had a drinking problem, I'm not
sure that you're the first person...

You do have a drinking
problem. I think we all do.

It's part of the job.

Erm... ?

What?

Nothing.

You know, the one kind
of chap you would think

the KGB would steer clear of

is an out-of-control alcoholic,

- flagrant queer, like Guy Burgess.
- Hm.

Guy did have me well
and truly fooled, though.

That I can't deny.

Ah, well, you twisted my arm.

Completely bloody hoodwinked.

He had us all fooled.

Betraying us to Russia all
that time... Christ, I dunno.

If somebody should've seen
through him, it was me.

I'm so sorry, Kim.

Ten years ago, when they accused
me of helping Maclean and...

- Burgess, do you remember all that?
- Oh, I remember.

Guy fucking Burgess.

You were a good and loyal friend.
You stood by me all the way.

- You know, I believed you were innocent.
- Why?

Why then and not now?
What's so different now?

Evidence.

From Flora bloody Solomon?

It's not just her.

- What do you mean?
- There's someone else.

Who?

A KGB defector.

I don't believe you.

You have no idea how I
wish none of this were true.

- Who is this defector?
- Hm.

The same source says
you're not the only traitor.

There are two more of you still in play.

Mr Vice President, Mr
Speaker, members of the Senate,

and of the House of
Representatives. Yesterday...

... December 7th, 1941,

a date which will live in infamy...

the United States of America

was suddenly and deliberately
attacked by naval and air forces

of the Empire of Japan.

Kim Philby, hello.

Jim Angleton.

Ah, the poet.

- I dabble.
- D...

Didn't you start a-a
poetry magazine at Harvard?

- Yale.
- Furioso.

- You've read it?
- You "dabble", my arse.

- Hi.
- Kim Philby.

You can laugh. I would.

- Morning.
- Morning, Nicholas.

I bought you breakfast...
or rather the taxpayer did.

- Now what?
- Not here.

Nobody pays any attention to a
word anyone that's said in here

unless it's a joke about the salami.

This one mine?

Vodka.

Is he dead?

They know about Blunt.

- Who?
- The Americans.

What?

See for yourself.

- Are you sure?
- Read the telexes first.

- How did you get this?
- This is Al, by the way.

Mr Elliott.

Al's all right...

- Hello.
- ... for an ex copper.

- Who else has seen this?
- Apart from the FBI and the CIA?

- On our side, I mean.
- Er... the Director General of MI5,

Head of Counter-Intelligence,
Arthur Martin, Mrs Sissmore...

- And me.
- ... and Al.

Do any of those people know
that you're now showing it to me?

No.

They don't, not as yet.

Thank you.

The one thing we
absolutely cannot afford

is to let the Americans
get to Blunt first,

so we need to smoke him out now, today,

cos if he isn't the last
of the traitors among us...

- ... he knows who is.
- Philby tell you that?

That's just the way the business works.

- Did he tell you that?
- Not in so many words, no.

- Do you know him?
- Not really.

Vaguely remember him from up at
Cambridge. Long time ago, now.

- Not another of your friends, then?
- No.

Jim Angleton's far too cautious to
make any rash approaches to Blunt.

If you say so.

- You disagree?
- He came to my house this morning.

- Seriously?
- To probe, browbeat.

Don't you think it's odd...

... that as soon as Philby did a bunk,

hey, presto, this character pops
out of the woodwork in America

to jeopardise the value,
to you, personally,

of the very same intelligence
that Philby gave you in Beirut?

Rule number one...

If it smells bad and
you suspect the Russians,

it's probably the Russians.

Tovarishch Philby.

Donald!

Hello, Kim!

- Tovarishch polkovnik.
- Donald Donaldavitch.

Their little joke.

- You look well.
- More to the point, how are you?

I take it this isn't an
accident, meeting you here.

It's the least I could do.

- Meaning?
- To, er, smooth the way, if you will.

How's Melinda, by the way?

Looking forward to showing you Moscow.

See much of Burgess these days?

I gather he made your life a
little sticky for a while there,

back in London.

Not to mention Washington.

London, Washington, Moscow.

One of the things one
has to love about the man

is that Burgess will always be
Burgess until the day that he...

Hang on a second.

You haven't come here
to bump him off have you?

How very droll, Don, as always.

Tovarishch Philby.

My rady videt' vas zhivym
i nevredimym v Moskve.

"Welcome to Moscow", and so forth.

Thank you.

- "Spasibo."
- Spasibo.

Tovarishch general, it's
very good to be here.

Zdes' khorosho.

Kak vam vasha novaya kvartira?

- "How are your new digs?"
- Er, fine.

- Thank you. Lovely.
- Liar.

No, snachala my khoteli by pogovorit'

o James Jesus Angletoni iz TSRU.

- They want to ask you...
- That much I understood.

_

_

- Not like you to be nervous.
- Don't tell anyone.

I've been a nervous
wreck the past 30 years.

♪ Upon our clouded hills? ♪

♪ And was Jerusalem ♪

♪ Builded here ♪

♪ Among these dark Satanic mills? ♪

Mr Milne and his guest are sitting
down in the dining room now, sir.

Thanks, Frederick.

You'll perhaps forgive
me for being immodest

when I say that it's thanks to
the friendship I d-d-developed

and nurtured over many
years with Angleton...

Prostite za neskromnost', no
imenno moya druzhba s Angletonom,

kotoruyu ya ukreplyal i
predpitoval mnogo let...

... that allowed for our regular

and extremely detailed
e-e-exchanges in...

in er, i-intelligence...

Pozvolil nam regulyarno
obmenivat'sya neveroyatno podrobnoye

razvedyvat' inoy informatsii.

... over l-l-long lunches we had
at his house in, er, Virginia.

Rasskazhite podrobneye o cheloveke...

- yego lichnosti.
- Erm...

They want to know ask you about
his personality, his character.

Well, you must know by now

that all they REALLY care about
these days is the Americans?

Yeah.

Er, well, first and foremost,
he really is rather an odd bird.

Nu, pervoye glavnoye,
chto on dushoy sudak.

He would like to be regarded as a poet,

although he has almost n-no
discernible talent whatsoever.

On khochet, chtoby
yego uchityvali poetom.

He is, however, a
gifted intelligence man,

with a keen eye for the...

... nuances of human behaviour...

except, one could argue,
where I'm concerned.

Vy byli blizkim drugom?

Er, you were close?

Yes, we were close. Of course
we were close, that's the job.

Da, tak bylo nado dlya raboty.

Then he gives a speech to
a women's group out in, um...

... I don't remember where,
which, as it turns out,

was a stroke of genius on two counts...

... count one, he's right. We
haven't been paying attention...

... and now the communists
are in and among us,

and in far greater numbers
than we ever imagined possible.

So, now, it is our
moral, that's his word,

it's our moral duty as
Americans who stand for democracy

and freedom to stop them. JIM CHUCKLES

- Smoke them out, hunt them down, before it's too late.
- Mm.

- Sir, it's...
- Count two...

for a man who was in the
political wilderness last week,

well, let's just say, today,

Senator Joe McCarthy is all anyone
in this town is talking about.

- Yes, Lucy.
- Your office, sir.

"Urgent", he said.

This is Angleton.

North Korea just invaded South Korea.

Fucking hell.

Comrade Philby.

We know very well, here, the fickle
nature of men in your profession,

who are often, in my experience,

driven equally, if not more so, by...

... opportunity... and ego...

... as by ideology.

A German accent?

Dresden.

How can we be sure you
have not come to Moscow

to penetrate Russian
intelligence services?

Yes, Her Majesty's first
love is her horses, not art.

In fact, art doesn't even
place a distant second...

... so all one can really
do is one's best to educate.

I rather think I fancy a
nice piece of fish today.

- Awfully sorry about all this, Tony.
- Sorry about what?

Where're you going?

Beef Wellington's the
ticket here, old fruit...

... followed by Baked Alaska for pud.

Don't worry, it's
just us. You can relax.

Then why have Tim ask me to lunch?

Well, I was rather worried you
might not accept my invitation

after my faux pas the other day.

- Faux pas?
- Vermehre?

Vermehren?

Have you ever killed anyone, Tony?

What's going on, Nick?

I mean...

have you ever got actual
blood on your hands?

Not like the way we more
sophisticated types prefer to do it,

with the gathering of information
and spreading of disinformation.

That's what I wanted to
do in Beirut the other day.

Stick a knife in Kim's gut
and watch him bleed to death.

Gentlemen?

You're really having the fish?

Your man better be as
good as you say he is.

Mm...

May I ask, did you
really slip on the ice

as you were walking to
the car this morning?

Why would I fake that?

The same reason you
manufacture a stutter.

I slipped. It was real.

And the stutter?

I've had that for so long
now, it's become second nature.

Comrade Philby...

you have come to Moscow with nothing.

No documents or useful
information of any kind.

I had a very narrow window of escape.

There was no time for
anything like that.

Thanks to Mr Nicholas Elliott.

I'm not sure I understand
exactly what you mean.

Then I'll be clear.

We're concerned that
either he has played you

or you are playing us.

You don't trust me.

We don't know you.

You've known me for 30 years.

Can I borrow your lighter again?

Needless to say...

... I wouldn't dream of
coming to Moscow empty handed.

One should never underestimate
the importance of a good umbrella.

It's three and a half hours now.

- What if he does nothing?
- He can't afford to do nothing.

Kim once gave me one, you know?

- Pardon?
- An umbrella.

For Christmas. Eight years ago.

To thank me for my part in
convincing the Foreign Secretary,

and consequently, the Government,

that he had absolutely nothing to do

with Burgess and
Maclean's escape to Moscow.

And that nor was there
the remotest possibility

that he was working...

as a Soviet double agent.

Do you still have it?

The umbrella.

Sorry, Sir Anthony. I
didn't know you were in here.

Is everything all right, sir?

- You awake?
- No.

There's this moment between
you and Philby in Beirut...

... when he quotes a poem
for apparently no reason.

Yes?

Do you know the poem?

It's about Jesus on the cross.

The Ballad Of The Goodly
Fare by Ezra Pound.

I looked it up.

Never even heard of it until last night.

Kim wanted me to think he was drunk

and comparing his own sacrifices
for mankind with those of Jesus.

You know who's friends with Ezra Pound?

But what he was in fact doing

was sending James Angleton a message.

Because he knew that the room
in Beirut had to have been bugged

and that the CIA were either listening

or would procure the tape later.

He had me at first, though.

I really did think he was
comparing himself to Jesus.

Then, when I thought it through later,

like you obviously have,
well done, by the way.

Are you being facetious?

No, I don't think so.

Not this time.

What message was Philby sending?

If I know Kim,

he worked very hard over the years
to fool Angleton into believing

that if he ever should
defect to Moscow one day,

that it would in fact be as a CIA asset.

What do you mean, "If you know Kim"?

Turn of phrase.

Yes, I need to order a taxi at
Queen's Gallery gate, please.

- Don't get up.
- Crikey.

The peasants they let
in here these days.

Guy.

Plant's on the move in a taxi.

We intercepted the call
and sent Jock in there.

He also just called someone
at an untraceable exchange...

for all of 12 seconds.

That'll be someone from his KGB network.

Head to Regent's Park, please.

You can speak your mind here, Kim.

Clear the air, I always say.

Well...

Maclean was the one who
was blown in '51, not you.

You were never in any danger.

All I asked you to do
was get a message to him.

To warn him.

Not to bloody run off
to Moscow with him.

Maybe I wanted to run.

And leave me in the firing line.

Maybe I'd had enough of England...

and all its little hypocrisies.

Or perhaps, you were running
out of navvies to bugger, hm?

To the glorious Soviet navy
and their big new submarines.

That's enough, comrade.

Change subject.

Whiskey?

So...

How is poor old Nick
Elliott faring these days?

I imagine he must be feeling
pretty bloody raw, poor sod.

He'll live.

To find that your dearest
friend was in fact anything but.

That's a proper old kick in the goolies.

It's so lovely to see you again, Guy.

To old friends.

I need to point Percy at the porcelain.

I hear it went well today.

At the Lubyanka.

You don't honestly expect them to
ever fully trust you again, do you?

Because no matter how hard you
try or what you do to impress them,

you won't.

You're not a communist.

You're a spy.

Someone who befriends and betrays...

... seduces and infects.

You and I were born that
way, it's how we're built.

All fine and dandy when you're
over there among friends.

And now you're here...

... it's finished.

Termine.

Take it from me,

all that's left now...

... is their vodka.

I am a communist.

Oh, come here you silly old...

Ow! Ooh, oh!

You shouldn't have run when you did.

I never recovered from that.

You ruined everything.

Is that someone?

_

Dobryy vecher. Kak proshlo na lubyanke?

- Lu-byan-ka?
- Ah, yes, er, jolly good.

Jolly good, thank you.

We're getting on this one.

Fares, please.

Any more fares, please? Any more fares?

_

It's on.

We now have a man in the KGB.

What did I tell you?

Next stop, Embankment!

Ten years ago, when MI5 suspected Philby

of helping Burgess and
Maclean escape to Moscow,

you, as I recall, were
his staunchest ally.

So I'll say it again.

"Sending you to Beirut
would be a colossal mistake."

_

Nyet, nyet, nyet, nyet! _

Brosit oruzhiye!

_

There were two of
them, a man and a woman.

- The woman refused to be taken alive.
- That's not what's supposed to...

You don't kill them! You watch them.

You feed them false
information, disinformation.

- Sometimes, it's better to send a strong message.
- Why?

She gave me a CIA safe house
location here in Moscow.

Fucking hell!

That's 20 fucking years' work
you people have just incinerated!

Where's the vodka?

What?

I'm your friend.

We are your friends.

I gave them a gold mine.

A gold mine. A CIA safe house.

And this is what they do.
This is how you... treat me.

You are a Soviet hero.

Now I know why you tried so
hard to stop me going to Beirut.

What?

You'd better sit.

Saveloy and chips, please.

Oh, fuck it.

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