All language subtitles for we.still.steal.the.old.way.2017.720p.bluray.x264-spooks

I said, no calls.
- Oh, now...is that Sir Edward?

Who is this?

Let's just say I'm somebody
you really don't want to ignore.

I beg your pardon?!
- You caused a lot of misery in your time, haven't you?

Mind you, so have I. The only difference is that I knew the names of the people I was hurting.

And as far as I was concerned, they deserved everything they got.

But you--you never knew the names of any of your victims, did you?

And they certainly didn't deserve what they were getting from you.

I don't know who you are or what you're hoping to achieve...

What I want is for you to return every penny you've stolen.

...I'm sorry? I...I thought you said...

And Mark Twain said something good.

He said, "Do the right thing. You will gratify some people and astonish others."

- Mark Twain also said:

"To succeed in life, you need two things:

"Ignorance and confidence."
- Yeah; clever old sod, wasn't he?

And you, sir, are not.

You certainly have ignorance, and it would seem confidence...

But you are not going to succeed in whatever it is you're trying to do.

Unlike banking, my line of work is dependent on results, and that's what I get.

In my line of work, we approach business in two ways.

If you're in the investment market, you're a bull or a bear.

What's your point?
- Well, there's a 16th-century proverb:

"Don't sell the bear's skin before you've killed it."

Maybe you should be more cautious with your threats.

Maybe we've done enough quoting for one day, eh? Just fucking give it back!

I don't run a successful bank by giving money away.

I'm successful because I fucking take money.

[Phone call disconnects]

I'll take that as a "no," then.

I must say, he didn't seem too keen.

Sounds like it's time for plan B, then.

Tin Man, come in.

[Radio cuts in and out]
What buttons do I ... which button do I press?

It's the button on the side.
- Oh come on, come on Richard, I'm just winding you up.

Oh, very droll. Everything clear out there?

Yes, yes; just me and the moonlight.
How're the old ladies doing?

Roy keeps moaning about his
shoulder, but we're getting there.

I better see what they're doing.
- Yeah, well, I'll see you soon.

Hey! Don't get caught!
- [Drily] Ha ha.

What?!

I was saying, I wish we'd had
one of these back in the day.

What, to break through the brickwork, you mean?
- No, the shins.

I wouldn't have this twinge in my shoulder if
it hadn't 've been for those fucking hand drills.

Gentlemen, let's not forget we're on the clock here.

Ten minutes, 15 tops.
- You said a bleedin' half hour ago!

This is a precision job.
[Murmurs]

No, don't do that. Don't do--!

Well that was a lucky swing.
- It's all in the shoulders, Royzee.

[Muttering] Oh yeah, take a piss.
- Gentlemen...

Come on, give us a hand with this.

Let's see if the ol' magic's still there, eh?

Hmm...

Is that a good "hmm" or a bad "hmm?"

Harley says he'll piss it.

There you go. What did I say?!

[Groans] Oooh.
- Your back and my shoulder...

How come Butch never ended
up with any career side-effects?

I keep telling everyone: I'm
the young gun on the firm.

[Sarcastically] ...Yeah.

Wait! Wait.

That's the trouble with you young
guns: all brawn and no brains.

Right.

What color is this one?

Looks purple.
- That's magenta.

Well, what's the difference?

It's the difference between the alarms
going off and the alarms not going off.

Oh...yeah. No, that's magenta.

So I cut this one, right?

Roy?

[Annoyed] Please.

"Everything has its limit."

"Iron ore cannot be educated into gold."
- What?

Mark Twain.
- Oh, yeah.

Mark who?

Everything has its limit.
Alright, let's get to work.

Now look at me.

Who's in charge?

No. I am.

What's going on?!

You're being robbed.

Oh...that's not good.

Armed police, don't move!
To the ground; armed police!

I guess you caught us
red-handed. Put it down, Roy.

Let's go!

Move! Move!

[Radio] Romeo Alpha, Romeo Alpha.

Romeo Alpha, go ahead.

[Radio] Arms [unintelligible] at E2.
We're sending details to your car.

Ok, we read you. En route.

Fuck! We gotta go.

What's your name?
- Dave.

Dave, do you think you can handle those fellas?

Pfft. Three old geezers? Yeah.

Yeah, right. We're on our way.
Just say that you caught them, ok?

What?

Saves me doing the paperwork!

You might even get a raise or something. Yeah?

And get rid of all that security footage--us arriving.

Just pretend that they cut the wires or something.

[Indistinct agreement]
- Good boy.

Lizzie Davis.

Hello, Anne-Marie.

You look well.
- You too.

I can see why Richie's heart was set aflutter again.

So...I was asked... Well, uh, no, actually:

I was told by your goons that you wanted to see me.

Well, well! You've toughened up.

Not the girl I remember.
- Yeah, well, I'm not a girl, anymore, am I?

None of us are girls anymore.
Anyway, what do you want?

Do you remember my parents?

Yes, Anne-Marie, everyone knew your dad.

Next Tuesday he'll have spent 30 years in prison.

My mother is about to die soon.

Alzheimers.

Horrible fucking illness that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Yeah, I...I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry...
- We found a clinic for her in Europe.

They've been keeping her going, in the hope that
my father would be granted compassionate leave

...to be able to say goodbye to her in private.
- So they've refused him?

Oh, they've toyed with us.

Promised to review ... but it's all bollocks.

The previous prison governor even took our bribes,
then didn't follow through on his promises.

You said previou...

Right, okay.
- It was a terrible accident.

Do you know, I've got this funny feeling you want me to do something

...and I just for the life of me can't work out what it is.

How do you feel about Richie being caught?

Um... heh...

A few months back I wouldn't have had any feelings one way or the other.

But now? Since he's charmed his way back into your life?

Richie asked me to tell you to wait for him.

He's spoken to you since he's been caught?!
- Richie and I go back a long way.

There's the girl I remember.

Anyway, they get up on the terrace, go through
the French windows, knick all the tom, come out.

And Gerald, he climbs all the way back down to the street.

Whereupon the other fellow leans over and says to him:

"Oy! Get back up here!"
So he says, "Why? I've just come back down here."

"Get back up here."
So he climbs all the way back up...

...and gets onto the terrace and he says "What?!"

and the other fellow says, "Come over here, listen to this geezer snoring."

[Laughing]

George Briggs, a legend, they tell me.

Runs things in the prison, I was warned; be his friend, they advised.

But, you see, here's the thing.

And your boss that's never seemed to understand this.

You think you're invincible.
And on the outside,

you may well have led a life that's afforded you protection.

The kind of protection that most mere mortals cannot understand.

But once you're in here...

...inside...

...away from those you pay to protect you
...well, then you're just like everyone else.

And you are old now.
No one cares about you anymore.

The world doesn't give a flying fuck about knowledge.
About the "old way."

About how things used to be.
How they should be.

The world has moved forward.

But you keep hanging on to the good old days,
when respect meant something.

Loss is a terrible thing.
What are you talking about...loss...?

I'm talking about the loss of manners,
as you intended to interrupt me.

I'm talking about the loss of respect
for intelligence, old or young.

We used to have confidence.
But now all I see in your generation

...is arrogance.
- [Laughing] Pricks.

And they weren't actually the "good old days."

But things were certainly a lot better back then.
There was an order to things.

And respect for those who earned it.

You were promoted to governor here,
not because you were the best person for the job

...but because your predecessor died
and you were available.

I was promoted to governor here because I can--

Well done, Governor Pryce, well done.

You fooled them, but you didn't fool me.

I know people like you.

Behind your tough-guy image...

You're scared.

I see from your file that
you have applied for compassionate leave.

I can see it in your face:
you're not going to grant it.

Well, your attitude towards me hasn't helped.

I've lost faith in the system.

I've lost my sense of humor since I've been in here.

And now you've lost your chance
to see your wife before she dies.

Are you having any suicidal thoughts?
- No.

Are you on drugs ... or any form of prescription--

I really don't approve of drugs.
- Yes or no?

No.

Are you experiencing feelings
of rage or violence?

Of course I'm fucking not!

Are you a bed-wetter?

Did you ask the others that question?

Is that a no?

Richie Archer, I've heard
a lot about you.

All good, I hope?
No Archer, not good at all.

Robbery, extortion, kidnapping, arson.
The list goes on and on.

Now, that arson, that was just an
unfortunate misunderstanding.

And the papers just blew it out of all proportion.
If I was you, I would ignore that.

Enough!

You will address me as "Governor."

And you will afford my officers the courtesy of "Sir."

Disrespect will not be tolerated.
Do I make myself clear?

[All, overlapping] Yes, Governor.

Violence and aggressive behavior will
not be tolerated. Do I make myself clear?

[All, overlapping] Yes, Governor.

You will abide by the rules.

Transgressions will not be tolerated.

Yes?

What's, uh, "transgressions" mean?
- Not what he thinks, I think.

You think you're something special, don't you?
- Not at all.

"Not at all, Sir."

Not at all, Sir.

Think you can you can just stroll in here
like some King Big-dick?

King what?
- Big Dick.

Oh. [Laughs]

Think about it.

Be under no illusion.

I might be new here,
but that means new rules.

You step out of line...

And I will not hesitate to crush you.

Time was, Richie, you'd've taken a shot like that.

Time was, Roy, I'd've seen it coming.

- Left

Over to this cell.
- Oh, this way.

This way.

[Laughs]
Here's your new cellmate.

Hello David.
I've got a new playmate for you.

I know how you hate being on your lonesome.

Y'allright fellow?

I'll leave you two to get acquainted.
[Laughs]

Right. There you go.
Home sweet home.

I presume you still
do room service?

Snap!

Shame; that would've
saved a lot of time.

You're a sight for sore eyes, Richie Archer.

George.

You look good.
Don't lie; I'm tired.

That's why I came in
to repay my debt to you.

What are Butch and Roy doing here?
This was meant to be a one-man job.

Yeah; you know what they're like.
- Loyal to last.

More people means more risk.
- Don't worry, George.

It's all in hand.
- She hasn't got much time.

No...I know, I know.

You'll see Alice again,
you've got my word on that.

I know I can rely on you,
always could.

Come, let's have a cup and have a chat.

Liz?

Jimmy Harper.

I've not seen you for a long time.
- I'm over in Spain now.

Got a nice little place just up the road from Richard's gaff.

You all right, Liz?

Yeah. Well, you know, it's, well, it's all ... peaceful

and it's nice around here now,
Richie's back, you know?

But you're okay?

Jimmy, did you know about this plan?
This...this robbery?

Of course. I was there.

I stole the gold. And, uh...

[Laughs] Oh, that's very funny. Yeah.

Why'd he do it, Jimmy?

I mean ... money? What was it?
The adrenaline, the thrill? What?

Do you fancy a pint?

Louis! We haven't met.

Uh, my name's Vic, how're you doing?

I live here too.

I've been watching you, keeping an eye on you.

You keep your head down.
I like that.

And you go about your business quietly.
That's good.

In fact, you know something?
The whole knick loves you.

[Stuttering] Please, if you think I've
done something, you're wrong.

Oh, you misunderstand me.

I don't think you've done
anything wrong, Louis.

In fact, on the contrary.
- So let me go, yeah? Please.

Please let me go.
- First, I need a little favor.

Anything; all you need to do is ask.

Louis, in this knick,
I don't have to ask for anything.

I'm a taking kind of guy.

Tell me something... Do you know Richie Archer?

The Archer gang.
Yeah, everyone's heard of them.

You want me to kill him for you?

Kill him?

Tell me something, have you
ever killed anyone before?

No...
But is that what you want me to do?

Well, you will one day, I suppose.

And you'll remember your first...forever.

The terror in their eyes when
you take their life.

That's probably why
I like taking things.

No! What are you doing?!

You're right, Louis.

I do want Archer dead.

The problem is, he's in a different knick.

Dilemma is, how the fuck
am I going to get to him?

I said I'd do what you want!

You already are.

Why'd you do it?

This was a cushy number. You aren't
going to see luxury like this again.

Three hundred and fifty-seven.

What's that?

[Sighs]
Three hundred and fucking fifty-seven.

That's how many putzy fucking months
I've spent banged up.

That's 10,873 days.

I might just have a crack at working out
the hours and the minutes later on.

You can't think like that; you'll go mad.
- I am fucking mad!

Vic, for God's sake, shhh...

You've heard the news?

About Archer gang? Yeah,
I thought that'd make your day.

Make my day?!

Richie Archer happens to be
in a different fucking knick...

200 miles south of here.

So reaching down his scrawny little neck

and ripping out his heart is going
to be a bit tricky, don't you think?

It's open and shut: They'll die behind
bars; no need to worry about that.

Well, natural causes doesn't do it for me, Donald.

You want me to arrange something?

No...
No I don't.

I want to be there when it happens.

I want to see it with my own eyes.

I want him to know that
I'm fucking responsible.

But there is something else I want to do.

Before I take Richie Archer's life.

What do you need me to do?

They're being held on remand at Belkinwood.

Belkinwood's got a new governor.

Your friend and my friend...
Pryce.

Pryce by name, price by nature.

Get Harry to have a little word
with her, will you please? And...

See if she can arrange a little reunion.
- Yeah, but Vic...

Just fucking do it!

You have to do it; you know you do.

It's just... It's, it's just not me, right?
You know, I...

I'm not part of your world.
- But you are!

Like it or not, you're part
of Richie's world.

Which means you're
now part of my world.

The Archer gang were a
force to be reckoned with.

And Richie was...

...well, Richie was many things.

But you know how it all works.

Yeah.
...Always someone above you, right?

Richie, my father, God.

Did you know that my father took
the blame for one of Richie's crimes?

Well he was going down anyway,
so he confessed to it.

To keep Richie out.

Well... What exactly do I...
What would I have to do?

Talk to an old friend.

Convince them that we need their help.

Richie needs their help.
- Well, who? I mean...

What the hell is going on?

You know the phrase: I could tell
you, but I'd have to kill you?

Well, I will actually carry out that threat
if you whisper a word of this to anyone.

He should be here any minute now.
Oh, here he is.

Chaps. What's... what's...
What's this all about, then, Mr. Briggs?

I've been telling my friend Richie
about your business here.

Oh, yeah? What're you after?
Smokes, chocolate bars, jazz mags--?

No.
- No?

Fuc--... Fuckin' hell.
These aren't...

These aren't exactly what you'd call...
what you'd call everyday items around here.

Do... Do you know what I mean?
- I do; I know they're not.

And... And...
It's gonna cost you.

He's good for it.

Yeah...alright. Yeah.

Give me a a couple days,
uh, I'll see what I can do.

Good lad.
- The sooner the better.

Right...

Twitchy bastard, isn't he?

Well, well, well.
Look who it is.

Richie fucking Archer.
- I'm sorry son, you've got me at a disadvantage.

The name's "Razor."

And don't call me "son."

So, what happened?
Had a bit of a senior moment, did you?

I mean, fuckin' hell: gold bullion?

This ain't the fucking '80 no more,
you silly old gits.

You wanna learn some manners, my friend.

You wanna go do a fucking
jigsaw, granddad.

Watch your mouth.

Gentlemen.

So you know West-End John?
Well, what do you make of that? Hah!

The world's a village.

I've been holding out hope that Razor here
would one day learn to respect his elders and betters.

Come on, Razor: Apologize.

I ain't apologizing to no one.
- I said, apologize.

Just pissin' about, ain't I?

I wouldn't call that an apology.

Say you're sorry.

Sorry.

Now sling it.

What the fuck are you lookin' at?

Seems like a nice boy.
- Adorable.

What's their story?

They've been scrapping each other for years.

Some family thing, long
before they got here.

Spider's alright...
But Razor...

I've had to threaten his
outside mob a couple of times.

Looks like he's due for a reminder.
- Hmm.

Vic Farrow is due to be transferred.

And you, Misses Maestro, are going to
make sure he ends up in your prison.

What?!

Are you deaf?

[Shuddering] Fuck.

I've never killed a woman before.

But with your job description,
I'm willing to make an exception.

[Stuttering] I can't... I...
I can't do that, that's impossible.

Well... You better hope it ain't.

Because if you don't get this thing done
I'm gonna put big holes in you.

Do you want that?

Ohh... Didn't think so.

You do so remind me of a
very dear friend of mine.

Stick 'em up.

Oh, Chas, you've got something for me, I hope?
Yeah, maybe maybe maybe.

Listen, you know what I'm going to say.

Let's see it first.

Fuck. - Hm?
Yeah yeah yeah.

Sweet, sweet, sweet.
- It is nice, yeah.

Mined in South Africa,
cut in Tel Aviv...

And part of a consignment knicked
off a dealer in the Antwerp Square Mile.

Here you go.

Down the hatch.

Yeah, you might want to run it under a tap first.

Later sir!
- Hang about, hang about!

I can feel from this there's
no keycard inside here.

Yeah. But to be fair, you know,
it was always going to be tricky.

You just swallowed my payment.
- Yeah, I know, I know. I just need a little bit...

...longer?
I haven't got a little bit ... longer.

No, but, but, I'm sorry. I am.
I'm sorry.

I ain't going to let you down.
No, you're fucking not.

Because if you do, Butch will devise a method

whereby he can retrieve that
diamond from inside your tum-tum.

A process neither of you
will enjoy very much.

Hello, Jack.
- Oh, bloody hell.

Oh! Thank you very much.
- No offense...

But I've come to realize that people approaching me these days usually means they want something.

I'm not some bloody charity worker on the eye street.

So... You here visiting someone?

Or is this to do with Richie?

How often do you come here?
Most days.

She deserves that, at least.
- I didn't know her, but...

I'm sorry for your loss, Jack.
- Well...

She always said she'd be the widow with me
killed on duty trying to put the bad boys away.

Oh... So, uh, she didn't know?
- That I was actually working with the bad boys?

No. Well, I reckon she knew,
but she never said anything.

Anyway, she was always good
at turning a blind eye. Bless her.

Yes, well, as fascinating as all this sounds...

we have slightly more pressing
matters to discuss.

God, blimey ol' Riley, all these years
and you haven't changed a bit, have you?

I'll take that as a compliment.
- Whatever rocks your boat.

So, what's all this about, then?
And remember...

I've done my bit.
Your bit?

Your bit?!
You haven't even started, Houghton.

Richie's inside.
[Laughs] Oh, I know!

Silly old bugger.
What ever was he thinking at his--at our age.

Yeah; it seems that getting
caught was part of the plan.

Wha...? Why would he want...?

It's a prison break, right?
- He needs your help, Jack.

Lizzie, this isn't my world anymore.
- We know you have a contact on the inside.

Fuller member of the brotherhood.
- I do not want any part of this.

Do I really need to remind you how
much dirt my father has on you?

No, no, no, no, no.

Richie's pulled that one on me before.
- You're walking around free as a bird...

...because my father kept stumm.

Your bit, Mr. Houghton, hasn't
even halfway started.

Look, Jack, you know I wouldn't ask for
help if we didn't really, really need it.

Oh, this is funny, you two doing
the good-cop/bad-cop routine.

Please, Jack! Richie and I...
- I am not doing this.

For you, or for Richie,
and especially not for her.

I'll do it for me.

Anyway, I've got fuck-all
else to do nowadays.

Our old friend Jack Houghton's
got a mate in here.

Not one of the funny Ancho Brigade?
- Good Christ, not the fucking Masons?

Yeah, alright, I don't care for them myself,
but without this bloke we're going nowhere.

Once off this wing, there's another
four doors between us and freedom.

You'd see that as a nice
challenge back in the day.

Picking locks involves kneeling down. That plays
havoc with my back, not to mention my knees.

So when do we go?

Assuming Chas comes up with
the last piece of the puzzle...

What do you say to tomorrow?
- I'll go and pack my bags.

Now that guy is a fucking legend.

Well... There goes the neighborhood.

So what's Farrow doing here?

Something like this doesn't
happen out of the blue.

He's here for us.
- Can I rip his head off?

Oh, he'll be coming...

Well, it might come to that, but I don't
want anybody getting into any trouble.

Last thing we need is somebody
being thrown in the hole.

Farrow is a scheming cunt.

Whatever he's up to, he'll make
his move, first chance he gets.

That's why I paid out a healthy
wage for those guys.

Yeah, but nothing's changed.
We still go tomorrow.

Okay.

Slick Vic, it's an honor.

You know, I never really
cared much for that nickname.

But, uh, thanks all the same.

You know, we need someone like
you in here, calling the shots.

Yeah? I thought that you had the, uh,
esteemed Mr. Briggs running things in here.

Eh. That old fucker's lost
the pot years ago.

You know, you can't even score
a bit of blow in here these days.

You mean, there's, um,
there's no connections at all?

Fuck-all. He insisted on shutting
the whole thing down.

"Drugs are bad for you," you know,
that shit that he preaches.

Well, maybe you and I can
do a bit business together.

New governor though, might be tricky.
- Oh, no, you just leave her to me.

I'll take care of that.

You just concentrate on, um,
the muscle, and customs.

Alright; you can count on me and my boys.
- And how many would that be?

Twenty-five guaranteed.

Maybe more, if they
knew we're teaming.

Ask around: find out who's,
uh, missing a bit of that.

And some of that, okay?

Tell 'em I'll bring in
anything they want.

Alright; that's just
doubled your army already.

You know something, my friend?

I think, that after all this time, the mighty
Richie Archer is about to meet his Waterloo.

Apparently you wanted to see me, ma'am.

I don't like being told what to do, especially
with a gun being pushed into the back of my head.

Yeah, well I'm sorry.
- And I don't like being interrupted, either.

I was wondering why you were so keen to be here.

It's just that I've got an old score
I need to settle. That's all.

Is anyone else "scoring" out of this?

Ah. So this nocturnal,
clandestine meeting is just...

for you to tell me you don't want
drugs in your knick. Is that right?

Ahh.. Got it.

It's about percentage.
Correct?

I don't know what you mean.

Twenty-five.

I'm flattered you think
I look that young.

Thirty?
- I do look after myself and eat well.

Perhaps that's clouding your judgment.

Thirty-five.

Let me step into the light.

Perhaps the shadow was
hiding my laughter lines.

Yeah. I can see clearly now.

You're definitely 50.

Full of vitamin D.
Good for your bones and teeth.

But you haven't got any
real teeth left, have you?

If you keep talking like that, you
won't have any left, either.

Mr. Farrow wants you to join him.

Did you just hear something, Roy?

No, Richie.

How about you, Butch?
- Not a dicky-bird, mate.

I said, Mr. farrow wants
you to join him.

Do you know how much this stuff costs? Less than
a tin of dog food. Can you believe that?

Dogs eat better than we do.

Mind you, I like dogs; I'd be the last to begrudge
our canine friends a lovely gourmet dinner.

Oy!

I'm talking to you, you geriatric cunt.

May you go and tell Mr. Farrow, when
I'm ready to talk to him, I will talk to him.

Until that time he can fold his arms and wait.

Now, are you going to be able to remember that all?

Or am I going to have to carve it into
your face with my little plastic knife?

What's going on?!

I said: What's going on?
- My friend here was just recommending the veal.

Apparently it's to die for.

I'll tell you what. Whatever mug he's
sharing a cell with butch tonight...

...had better wear a gas mask.

Oh dear.

Hello, Richie.

It's nice to see you; it's been a long time.

Not long enough.

Come on, mate.

Don't be like that, you don't mean it.

We're just two boys from the old

neighborhood, back together
again at long last.

Why are you here, Vic?

You know, I've been rehearsing
this for the best part of 30 years.

And now the moment's here.

I'm kind of at a loss for words.

Um, I don't know.

Fate.

Karma. Karma's a good word.
Let's go with karma.

That's very zen of you.

I must say, I never had you down
as one of the enlightened.

Oh! Enlightenment's a good word.

Like the day I found out who stitched me up.
Now that was a fucking enlightening day.

Oh please! You're not still claiming
your innocence, are you?

Innocence? No.

I never said I was innocent.
Far from it! I'm no saint.

Like you.

But we both know that I should never
have gone down for those killings, right?

Never in a million fucking years.

Well it's too bad nobody's listening, isn't it?

Ah, not at the moment they're not. No.
But they soon will be.

Soon everyone will know what you and
that lowlife piece of shit Houghton did.

Okay, you showed your cards.

One card.

Your queen.

Carmen.

It would be tragic if something unfortunate
were to happen to her, now wouldn't it?

Yeah, whatever you're thinking, Vic, I
would strongly advise against it.

Oh, spare me the fucking tough-guy routine, will you?

It doesn't wash with me;
I've known you too long.

Anyway, if any harm were to come to your queen...

it would be totally down to you.

From now on, Richie,
her safety's in your hands.

Carmen, hi, it's me.
- Dad, where have you been?

Uh, I'm afraid things have got a bit complicated 'round here.

Complicated? What's happened?

Where are you?
- It doesn't matter where I am.

I just want you to listen
to me really, really carefully.

I want you to pack a bag, go and
stay with a friend for a few weeks, OK?

Dad, what is going on?
- Carmen, sweetheart, I love you dearly.

Don't ask any questions. Just pack a bag;
get out of that house now.

Sish Plee's, Chinese restaurant.
- Jimmy, it's me.

I'm sorry, mate. Just tying up these
couple of loose ends we talked about.

Yeah, listen: we've got a problem.
Carmen might be in danger.

What do you want me to do, Richard?

I want you to get back to Spain as soon as you can.

Call Carmen and protect her.
- I'm on my way.

And, uh, I might have to change first.
- You better be bloody joking.

[Laughs]

Count yourself lucky this time.

Ok, so there are the photographs of the boys.

Ah, Richie. He's still got it, hasn't he?

Is there something I should know about you two?

[Phone rings]

Oh! Richie! Hello!

Lizzie...
- Are you alright?

Eh, not exactly, no. You know,
I haven't got time to explain.

Listen, I need you to do something for me.
I need you to go to Jack Houghton...

Ask him if he'll come in here and see Vic Farrow.

Vic Farrow?!
- He's in here.

I don't know how he's in here, but he's in here.

Are you safe?

Depends how safe you think prison is.

No, but listen, Vic is threatening
to go after Carmen.

What?!

Talk to Jack Houghton. Ask him to
bring in the farrow tape.

He'll know what that means.
- What does it mean, Richie?

You don't need to know that, Lizzie.

Just ask Jack to bring the tape in, for Farrow.

I'm really worried, Richie.

Don't be. Bye.

You are gonna break me out
of here, aren't you Richie?

I'm a man of my word. Look,
Farrow is just a complication.

But your fixer hasn't come through.

You should have stuck Farrow in
a sack with a couple of breeze

blocks and dumped him in the
Thames when you had the chance.

And I told you to, in point of fact.

I thought I'd done the next best thing.

Anyway, you know I don't like killing people,
unless, of course, they're trying to kill me first.

I always thought that was an odd trait of yours.

I know you're there, Harry.

Fuck! Would you stop doing that?

This is what I do.

Now, what do you want me to do?

I've got another little errand for you.

I don't do errands.
- Snatch and grab; bring him here.

Vic wants to have some fun when he gets out.

I don't do errands.
- What?

Just fucking do it.

I'm not some henchman you bark orders at.

You're someone Mr. Farrow pays,
which means you do what I tell you.

Which means I can call you whatever the fuck I want.

Do as you're fucking told, old man.

The details are in the envelope.

Your friend, Jenny...

Remember her?
- Oh, of course I do, God rest her soul.

Well, her death--
- No: her murder.

She...well, you know what happened.

Yeah. I know she didn't take drugs--she
was made to--and that makes it murder.

And we all know who was pushing drugs back in those days.

Yeah: Farrow.
- Exactly.

Anyway...

Richie wanted me to set Farrow up with
something that would put him away for ever.

Scotland Yard had a mountain of unsolved
cases in those days, and I pulled a good'n.

A "gangland slaying" as they
used to say in the press.

So I cobbled together enough evidence to
put Farrow in a room with the dead body.

Things were so much easier back then.
- So what's on this tape?

Some gobby Geordie skrope.
Fennick, I think his name was.

He was holding for something else entirely,
and coughed up the whole bloody thing.

If we pressed the charges against him,
our whole bloody case would've collapsed.

So you hid the confession tape?
- Yeah

Well, where is it?
- It's safe.

It's very simple.

You meet Farrow, you give him the tape.

He'll call off his dogs and Richie
can move on with the escape plan.

What's on that tape is enough to get Farrow released.

And with a golden fucking handshake
thrown in for good measure.

You okay with that, are you?

I just want my father to see my mother one last time.

So, Detective Inspector, here we are then.

It's just plain old "Mister" these days.

You know something?

I'd have given odds saying you were dead by now.

How'd you make that out, then?

Well, coppers like you...take away
the job, what's left? Fuck-all, right?

Most of you end up in a single room with a bottle
of scotch and a length of rope for company.

Let's just get on with this, shall we?

I could just kill him with
my bare hands, I really could.

Lizzie, look at me.

It's going to be alright; trust me.

But do you really think you can...

...escape?

Is everything in place?

Ol' Vic's a problem, and you know I hate being outmaneuvered; I like control and order.

And Vic is out of control, and he's seriously out of order.

Richie, if you get blood on your hands,
you might never get out of here.

Look, here's the truth Lizzie:

The boys and I chose to be in here. Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

I mean, God knows we've all done
enough to deserve it, haven't we?

What about me?

I mean, have you for one minute even
given any thought to how I might be feeling?

Well, you move on; you get on with your life.

You're just a bloody idiot, aren't you?
- Eh?

There was me thinking we might even have half a chance.

Oh, Lizzie.

No. I'm sorry.
- Yes, but it's just not good enough, is it?

[Guard] No contact!

Sorry, Mr. Riley.
- The rules are clear, Archer.

You know something? If you were to, uh...

...fortunately die tonight from a massive fucking stroke...

you'd at least have done one good
thing in your miserable dog-shit life.

You know what, Farrow?

I think I'll hang on for another couple
years, just to piss you off, mate.

I hear that you've not been having
a lot of luck with your IP-19s.

Two knock-backs in three years?

Three in four.

Right... Well, for your information...

The new governor would be forced
to give you a single cell...

if you, uh, prove to be a threat. Did you know that?

You mean you want
me to ... kill someone?

That new cellmate of
yours, the big prick...

I could do with him out of the way.

And, uh, if that were to happen...well...

Hey, presto! Two weeks in segregation and um...

When you get out: straight into a single cell.

All on your own.

"May your plans be dark and
as impenetrable as night."

"And when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."

Are you taking the piss?
- I was quoting.

Sun Tzu.

I know when someone's taking the piss, OK?

You wanna watch that fucking tongue of yours.

Or I'll rip it out of your fucking throat quicker
than you can say "psycho fucking nut-job."

Do you understand?
- Yes, Mr. Farrow.

Good, David.

I know you're here, so you might as well come out.

Hah, I knew it. Mr. Farrow says hello.

Am I missing something?
- Yeah, a few brain cells.

What? What did you say?

Let's get this over with.
- Where the fuck is Lizzie Davis?

Safe.
- I told you to bring her here.

There are rules.

Oh fuckin' hell, don't start with
all that "old ways" bullshit.

This is the 21st century
already; the Krays are dead.

The old-school rules went out years ago.

No women or children.
- A job is a job.

Money is money. Now get out
there and bring her to me.

Do you know who she is?
- I don't fucking care who she is.

Mr. Farrow wants her grabbed, so Mr. Farrow...
Where the fuck are you?

Mr. Archer says goodbye.

Fucking prick.

I dispose of my victims using potassium hydroxide.

It's a highly effective method of disposal.

Have you tried it?

Heh, can't say I have, no.
- I thought you would have, given your background.

What the fucking hell do you know about my background?

You know your way around a cadaver.

You're considered to be something of a craftsman.

Who've you been talking to?
- I hear things.

Yeah. I bet you do.

Come on, Sunshine, what's going on?

You give me the silent treatment for days, then all of a sudden you're going on about acid baths.

Potassium hydroxide is... alkaline.

Well, pardon the fuck out of me.
- I was just trying to make conversation...

...exploring shared interests and so forth.

That's it, is it? That's your only reason?

Actually...

No.

Vic.

What about him?
- He wants me to... kill you.

Oh yeah? So why've you not popped yet?
When I kill...

...it's because it's going to amuse me.

Not because some little jumped-up
barrow boy snaps his fingers.

I don't particularly like you.

You're loud, uncouth...

And your personal hygiene leaves
a lot to be desired, but still...

I'm not interested in killing you.

Well thanks for the warm glei.
- I believe...

Your friends are in trouble.

Carmen, my darling daughter, I--
- First of all I don't hear from you...

Then you tell me to pack up a bag and go.
And now Jimmy turns up and tells me you're in prison.

What is going on?
- Sorry, mate!

Yeah, I'm sorry, I just... I just
need to be sure you're safe.

Don't worry.
- Eh... you didn't tell anyone, right?

No, I didn't tell anyone where I was going.

Yeah, I know. I know!

Well, I'm sorry!

Richie!

Sweetheart, I'm going to have to
call you back; something came up.

What the fuck's going on?

Let go, you cunt!

Are you alright?
- I'm swinging in a fucking hammock here.

It looks like Vic is making his move.

Really? I wouldn't have noticed.

What's going on here?!

Get off him!

Alright! Stay where you are; that's it, that's it.

Georgie boy, come out and play!

Come on, where are you?
It is the postman.

Come on, George. This is not
the way to treat an old friend.

Have you pricks learned?
Turn around and fuck off.

I'm unstoppable.

Come in, Victor.

Hello, George. How's it going, mate?

I am sorry I haven't popped in earlier.

But, I've been busy.

What do you fucking want?

Well, you see...

I've been trying to, uh, work out in
my head how long it's been since...

we had that one-to-one together.
- I can't put a date on it.

But I seem to remember you had to be carried out.

Yeah, well things do change, George.

I mean, while you've surrounded
yourself with muscle...

And, um, lived off reputation...

I've been building a reputation
with my own hands, George.

You were always a nasty fucking mongrel.

Should've been put down years ago.
- Yeah, well...

Unfortunately, no one
had the guts to do it.

Hah. Is that what you think?

Nobody cared enough.

You were just an afterthought.

Something to be got rid of of when
the proper business had been done.

I see you know it's true.

You're a fucking pest.

An annoying fly that no one could get rid of.

Tell me...

Is that Anne-Marie there?

My daughter, yes.

Well, It's a bit heavy with the shading
around the edges, but, um, well...

It's not bad, I suppose.

Tell me, how is Alice?

Don't you talk about her.
- Oh. It's that just I heard she was in a bad way.

You know, um, Alzheimer's, isn't it? I mean...

That is a terrible illness, George. Come on...

It makes you forget everything.

And everybody.

Hey! ... Please.

It's funny that you saying, that, um...

She's your daughter.

Didn't Alice ever say anything to you?
[- What?!] She never mentioned...?

No...well, she wouldn't, would she?

She was beautiful, though. Back in the day.

A real head-turner.

I bet she's a fucking mess now.

Age is a cruel thing: doesn't take
any fucking prisoners--a bit like me.

Come on, make your move.
- What, with the Alzheimer's...

I suppose she doesn't remember...

the night that I showed her what a
real man could do to her body.

To her mouth... to her fucking c---

I used her, George.

Like a piece of fucking meat.

And when we were done,
she could barely fucking walk.

I was surprised that she kept the baby, George.

Honestly, you um, never once never
looked at Anne-Marie and thought...

"I think there's a little bit of Vic in there?"

You're lying.

Yeah, how sad. Even now you can't admit it.

You can't deny death, George.

And I am death.

23rd of July, nineteen seventy-fucking-three.

That was the last time that
you and me had a one-on-one.

I wasn't carried out of there,
George. I dragged myself out.

Well this time, I'm walking out.

Oh, get this clown off me.
George Briggs is in danger.

Get someone up there. Now!

Go on. Go check on Briggs. Go.

Oh no.

Sir... He's dead.
- What do you mean, "He's dead?"

He's dead, he's been fucking stabbed.
- Oh, for fuck's sake.

I'm going to fucking rip his head off.
- Stop him. Stop him!

Why don't you fuck off, you
long streak of paralyzed piss.

You fuck.

Richie, hey.

It's tragic, what happened to George.
- You better be fucking sure, old man.

Get your fucking hands off him.
- Hey; I can see you're upset.

Listen, if there's anything I can
do to help, you just say so.

Well, you could die, slowly and
painfully. That'd be nice.

Aw, I intend to lead a good and full life.

Somewhere outside this shit-hole.

And thanks for that tape.

Got my legal team coming in this afternoon.

We're going to listen to it.

And then we're going to decide
how much compensation...

I'm going to have from the authorities.

Oh, and by the way, that
whole Carmen thing...

magicians call it misdirection.

You send Jimmy off to Spain to look
after your beautiful daughter, right?

He should have been here,
trying to save Lizzie.

You know you've got a shit-eating grin.

Well, grin big. Because you're going
to be eating an awful lot of shit.

Your associate is dead, and
Lizzie is alive and well.

Bollocks; you're lying.

He's not lying.

I don't know about you two, but the
novelty of this place is fading fast.

Yes; I'm beginning to think
we've outstayed our welcome.

Sir, you need to see this.

Oh, fuck. Fuck right off. That fuckin' ain't mine.

Perhaps. But this definitely isn't yours.

Put him in seg'. Go on!

Fuck off!

Lock 'em all up.

All prisoners, back in your cells,
immediately. Immediately!

Excuse me, ma'am.

I was wondering if you
received my application.

Keep away from me.
- Keep your distance, prisoner!

I was wondering if you
received my application.

I said, step away now.

Now!

Anne-Marie, I'm so sorry about your father.

Please, I really don't
need your sympathy.

You really are just like him, aren't you?

Yes, I am.

And I'm very proud to say so.

My mother passed away
in the middle of the night.

I wasn't going to tell my
father until he safely away.

I thought he might... simply
give up, and stay in prison.

Well...

At least they're together now.

You think that's how it works?

Oh, I don't know.

I just think it's better to
hang on to hope. That's all.

Well, if there is a heaven and a hell...

I think my dad would need Richie
to help him escape again.

They won't release his body
until after the inquest.

That could be weeks.

They say they've got the man
who was responsible, but...

...we all know who really did it.

He is the devil.

Well, if he's not the devil,
he comes a close second.

I'll leave you in peace.

Lizzie.

I'll still help them escape.

That's what my father would have wanted.

There's no point in us
both being heartbroken.

The plan's still on.

Jack, are you in?

Do you know why I'm here?

Ah. Okay. Thanks.

When?

Well, it's gotta be tonight.
The food here is awful.

And the view from my room's not much better.
- You fucking idiot.

You don't know why I'm here, do you?
- You what?

All you had to say was you wanted to be with her.

I notice, and I didn't--
- No!

Shut the fuck up and listen to me for a change.

You have an amazing woman here...

...who really, really likes you for
some unknown fucking reason.

But, the pair of you are perfect together.

And these planets-in-alignment
moments don't come along that often.

But when they do...
- Jack...

But when they do, you grab ahold of them.

You grab ahold of her.

And you keep hold of her.

Because you nev...

Because you never know
when she's going to be gone.

So, Richie fucking Archer, know this:

I'm not putting my friend from the lodge on the line because I want to assist in a prison break.

But because...

...because... Lizzie deserves a shot
at being happy for the rest of her life.

You got that?

So, get on with it, you flash cunt.

[Lizzie laughing]

Hey there! Let's have that
pint soon, yeah? My treat.

Oh, no no; I owe you one, mate.

Saw you lot gettin' in Razor's face;
that makes us friends, I reckon.

Yeah, well I don't like him or his sort.

Oh! Drug dealers. Right. Fuck no.

So I take it you're not a big fan of drugs, then?
- No.

That surprises you, yeah? Yeah.

A lot of people think because
you're young and in prison,

...then you've gotta be
banging for the narco, but no.

Now what's your problem with...what's his name...?
- Raisin.

Razor.

What my problem is with him?

Yeah; you seem to have something very
personal going on between you two.

Like with you and that new fellow?

Yeah, well if you feel the same about Razor
as I feel about that puddle of puke...

I can probably help you settle a few scores.

Razor killed my little brother.

Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that.

Right, well, yeah. You don't
really need to say sorry, like...

Yes I do; I know how you feel.

Fuck you; no you don't.
- Yes I do!

My brother was killed by a
bunch of awful little fuckers...

So believe me when I tell you,
I know how you feel, and I'm sorry.

Alright?

Alright.

So what happened?

Little brother got in with the wrong lot...

I was banged up in here, so couldn't
exactly protect him out there, and then...

...that one tested a bad batch out on him.

Pinned him down; injected that shit
into him; killed him stone dead.

Well yeah, in two weeks' time, Farrow's
got all his connections set up here.

And this place is going to be
crawling with drugs. His drugs.

That's why Razor's with him.
- They're the same.

What the fuck am I supposed to do about it?
I just don't have the people to take them on.

No.

Not in the cold light of day, you don't.

[Inaudible]

Calling all officers to the control room.
All officers to the control room, please.

Get the fuck off!

Hope you don't mind me dropping by, Vic,
I just wanted to have a word in your shell light.

You fucking low-life piece of dog shit.

All this fucking chaos is down to you, isn't it?

Me? I think you're crediting me
with too much influence, mate.

Well, well, well. What do we got here?

Yeah... I'm assuming this is a bad cut, knowing you.

Have you ever wondered why
your brother chose me over you?

Don't you fucking talk about my brother!

I'm going to ask you a question.

And how you answer it is going to dictate how
the rest of this goes down, alright? Ready?

Here we go.

Do you remember her name?

What?

Her name. I want you to tell me her name.

Whose fucking name?!
- Alright, I'll give you a hint, shall I?

She was 16 years old. Pretty little thing.

A bit of a rebel, too. What was her name?

I don't know what the fuck you're talking about!

One night she didn't come home. Her friends, her family,

neighbors...they all went out to look.

What was her name?

Oh! The clouds part and the sun shines through.
Hallelujah. What was her name, eh?

Jane?
- No, Vic, it was not Jane.

No! Don't! Don't... Don't do that again.

She was found dead in a squat in Lambeth.

She choked to death on her own vomit.
Now what was her name?

Jenny! Her name was fucking Jenny.

Jenny White.

I didn't force her to do anything.
- I warned you.

Time and time again, I warned you
to keep your shit out of my mannor.

Would you listen? No, you fucking wouldn't.

I remember now.

She had red hair.

Blue eyes and freckles.

And you're right.

She was a really pretty little thing.

And a good fuck, too!

Yeah... I think I've had enough of you, Vic.

In fact, I think we've all had enough of you.

George was right: I should have done this years ago.

Listen, you want revenge?
- Yeah I fucking do.

Good, that's my specialty. Here.

Give him a taste of his own medicine, eh?

Take care, son.

Try to stay alive.

You're going? It's just interesting.

I would like to stick around and help
you, but I've outstayed my welcome.

Oy! There's one of your lot down injured in here.

Come on, I know you're dying to say it.
- They went head-to-head.

Lucky you're good looking, because
your jokes are fucking awful.

What would you have said, then?
- Come on, get their gear.

And grab those flares; they might come in useful.

Are.. are... Are they going to break through?
Could any of the prisoners reach here?

I can't say, Governor. The whole
prison's open, so it's possible.

Sir! Additional services and extra
uniformed officers are en route, sir.

You alright, Gov'?
- I'm just... under the weather.

Do you want me to take over?
- I, I, I... I just need a moment.

I'll be in my office.

There's injured officers there, look.
- Why aren't they using the key-card?

Just let 'em in.

Fuck!
- There's only one; I'll deal with it.

[On radio] They've broken through gate 237.

How did you...?

I suppose you want to come with us...
- Richie!

Don't worry about him. He's alright.

Alright?! The bloke's a fucking psycho.
- Yeah, well, there is that.

I think the word "psycho" is an overused term.
- Whatever.

Shall we?

That's for my brother! That
shit's for my fucking brother.

Good luck.

The way out's this way.
- I have a long overdue meeting with Governor Price.

And I really don't want to let her down.

Quinn, you fucking prick.
- Okay you plum, give me your best shot.

There's no need for that.
- Back off, Butch.

Without Mr. Quinn, we wouldn't be on this side of the prison.
- We what?

He's on the square with Houghton.

Listen, the riot police have nearly got this under
control, so we need to hurry up. Come on.

What, so I don't get to kill him, then?
- Oh shut up, Butch.

Keep going; turn left
at the next gate.

Oy! Where are you going?
- I'll cover the control room.

And how are we supposed to get out?
- No, see...

He's going to be in the control room, Butch.

Listen, if I'm gone too long, they're
going to know something's up.

Ok, I'll buzz you through the last gate; that'll
take you to the prison yard. Now get going!

Sounds risky.
- That's the plan, Butch.

There's one!

Please, David... David, we can work this out.

You want your own cell, don't you? Hm?

I, I can make that happen. I can get
you anything you want. Anything.

Please, no, please... please...

Shhhh. Shhh.

Governor...

This begging and pleading...it lacks dignity.

And to be honest...

It won't do you an ounce of good.

Aaahh!

I've just pierced your left carotid artery.

Now, an educated
lady will realize that...

...when I release, what is
essentially acting like a plug...

...you will have approximately two
minutes to get your affairs in order.

Your time... it starts...

Now.

That is supposed to be open.
- Can we trust him?

Ah, he's a mate of Houghton's.
- What, a bent cozzer?

That's hardly a glowing recommendation.
- Shall we go back for him?

He's locked the gate. We're stuck here.

Hmm.

Now that I know is a bad "hmm".

I need some officers in B-wing.

Stay down, don't move.

Richie...

Oh, be quiet, Butch.

I've been on enough jobs with him to
know he needs peace and quiet for this.

Oy!

So much for the fucking Freemasons.

Oh good!

Hey mate, where've you been?

The canteen and A-wing are secure now, sir.

Good, good.
- Just...

What are you doing, sir?

Nothing.

Where do we have the incoming officers in?

Who requested the helicopter?

Alright fellas, you can relax.

Oh, come on, don't muck about.
There's no time to lose.

Time for those flares, Butch.

Hold on, mate.
[Machine-gun-fire in background]

Why are we still here?

I didn't know you could fly a helicopter.
- I can't.

[Laughing]

I'm just so bloody sorry George
couldn't make it out with us.

Richie, darling, you tried.

And we almost got away with it.
- Yes we did.

Well... this is goodbye.

I wish I could get to the funeral.
- I know.

Do me a favor.

For this and these and the
helicopter? You name it, girl.

Look after her.

Hm?
- Lizzie.

Yeah, of course I'm going to look after her.

Make sure she knows how much you care about her.

You never were very good at this sort of thing.

Right. Who fancies a trip to the land of
the free and the home of the brave?

I thought we were going to America?

Are you sure you want to come with us?

Are you sure you want me to?

Are you sure you want
to ask that question?

Hang on a minute.

Hamish.

Is someone having a laugh?

What is wrong with "Hamish"?
- Do I look like a sweaty sock?

I kinda do, boyo.

Hamish is a Scotch name.

I was doing Scotch.

Really?

That's quite clever, that thing.

Yeah. This is how we steal. The new way.

Yeah...sort of takes all the fun
out of it, you know, doesn't it?

Oh, I fucking hate it.

Give me a sawn-off and a sledge-hammer any day.

Good afternoon gentlemen.

Sir Edward, a pleasure to
meet you at long last.

Please, take a seat.

Well, to work.

Well actually, before we start...

Could I ask: weren't you robbed a while back?

Well, I'm sorry, you were misinformed.
- No... no, it was here.

In London, not long ago.

One of your gold reserves got turned over.

Ah. Yes, there was an incident, but
those responsible were caught.

I heard that there was a second gang.

Posing as armed police officers...

...who switched the gold.

And like you say, the robbers were apprehended.

So nobody bothered to check that the
bullion remaining in the vault was pure.

And this is the good bit:

The real gold was smelted down,
recast, and sold back to your bank.

At a bloody good rate, as it happens.

Can you believe such a thing?
The audacity of some people.

Why are you here?
- Why are we here?

Well, so that you can prove to us
that underneath the Savile Row...

...is a half-assed decent human being.

See, I've got a list of charities here
that are particularly close to our hearts.

Now, we'd like you to show
your philanthropic side...

...by making a contribution
to each one of those.

Out of your own pocket, of course.
- I certainly won't be doing that.

Yes, Sir Edward, you will, unless you want your
name plastered all over tomorrow's newspaper.

I've done my homework, you see.

I know all about your fraudulent
activities, your insider trading...

That's extortion.
- Actually, it's blackmail.

Do you honestly think you're going
to get away with this, you, you...?

I don't see why not. Your witness has
been getting away with it for years.

See, the only difference
between our two worlds...

...is that nobody from banking
has ever been sent to prison.

Oh, don't give me that speech about how
bankers have messed up the world.

Without the banking industry, the little people
wouldn't be able to afford bigger houses...

Or more expensive cars, luxury--

You mean: borrow to buy?

And I can't believe you used
that expression, "little people."

Those people can't afford these things.

Maybe if they worked a bit harder.
- Can I go to work on him?

Roy, Roy, back off.

Go on, have a heart. He's even older than we are.

Alright, Sir Edward, if that deal is
not quite tantalizing enough for you...

let me offer you a, um...

What's it called, Roy?
- A deal incentive.

No, no, that is not strong
enough. Sweetener.

What could you possibly promise
me to make me change my mind?

I think of it more as a threat, old boy.

The gold that was stolen.
- The gold that was sold back to you.

Who did it actually belong to?

Yeah... Them.

And if there's one thing you can
be certain of with the Chinese...

They are very, very driven in business.

And very protective of their business.

Do the right thing. It will gratify some people...

And astonish the rest.

You're right. That is magenta.

Do you think he's going to be alright?

I hope so.

It can take it out of you, this job.

He looks tired; needs a holiday.

Well, no rest for the wicked, eh?
- Who are you calling wicked?

Anyway, it's you lot that needs the holiday.

Retirement, in fact.

Don't forget--
[All in unison] I am the young gun on the firm.

Turn it in, Butch.

You've been saying that for the last fucking 30 years.

You know, I don't like that. Unless it's upside down?

No; still don't like it.

Worth three million.

Three million... I should've
been a fucking painter.

You could always steal it.
- Lizzie!

What?!

We've got principles.
We never steal art.

Well, never steal bad art.
- So what's next, Richie?

We are going to steal more gold?
- Maybe.

But first I've got to see
a bloke about a bird.

What bird?!
- Black.

About that tall.

It's astonishing.

I never thought I was going to see it again.

Thank you, Richie.

Hey, thank you for offering us sanctuary.

You've been promising to come here for so
long, I was starting to take it personally.

Yeah, well, my life did sort of run away
from me, if you know what I mean.

It looks like it's treated you well, though.
- Oh, yeah.

Good to see you again, my friend.
- You too, my friend.

And listen, we'll try not to be a
nuisance for too long, alright?

Actually, I was hoping you'd
stay awhile, help us out.

We're having a little trouble
with the Taormina family.

Oh, come on. We're a bit too
old for that sort of work.

With age comes wisdom.

We tried our muscle on them, and
they're not getting the message.

Well, what do you need?
- A more subtle, clever approach.

Subtle, clever, yeah. Well, we can do that. Yeah...

Yeah. Why am I getting the feeling
this is an offer I can't refuse?

You can refuse...

...but I got a feeling you want to do it.