Original subtitles

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- Come, sit down. - I cannot stay.

- Why? - No time to explain!

I must go before they...

Taj, they have guns.

What have you done, Malik?

Nothing you wouldn't have done yourself at my age.

Have you been spying for the [FOREIGN WORD]?

- Go, out the back. - No, I will not abandon you.

Run, now!

Forgive me, Mother.

Please, don't shoot!

Malik Al-Qablan is the third US asset

to be murdered by ISIS in the last week.

There's been a security breach.

Earlier this month, 300 pages

of classified Pentagon documents

were released on Peter Darien's website.

TrueLeaks.

Rumor has it they were stolen

by a former intelligence analyst.

While these documents expose a number of embarrassing

breaches of military conduct, they also include intel reports

with the names of the sources left un-redacted.

Leaving any number of innocent civilians

with their asses hanging out to the wind.

And there's more leaks coming.

Over 1,000 pages of classified material,

including the identities of over 100 assets.

How do you protect that many people?

By stopping the leak before it happens.

By stopping Peter Darien.

Now as I'm sure you know, he's been hiding out

at the Ecuadorian embassy in London.

Ever since the U.S. indicted him on charges of espionage

and conspiracy two years ago.

You want my team to bring him in.

Officially, the U.S. government can't sanction

an operation to kidnap and arrest Peter Darien,

much less in the embassy of a friendly nation.

But with your clandestine background,

that makes you uniquely qualified

to handle such a sensitive mission.

You told me you were interested in prevention, Christina.

I'm offering you the chance

to prevent the loss of hundreds of lives.

As you know, Senator, the Russian

human intelligence cycle is just like ours.

They spot, they assess...

Hart testified before Congress?

- Mm-hmm. - When was this?

Oh, about 18 years ago. Closed door session.

Concerning a certain CIA case officer who defected to Russia.

- Oh, right, Don Levin. - Mm-hmm.

Okay, so what was it that you could not wait to show me?

Um... this.

She's a brick house.

She's mighty mighty, Letting it all hang out.

- Stop. - She's a brick...

No, keep going.

She's a brick house.

The lady's stacked, and that's a fact.

- She ain't holding nothing... - That looks... real.

Mm-hmm, thank you, Mills.

This is, a, uh,

video editing tool which uses a current neural network

to learn the mapping of raw audio features to mouth shapes.

With over three hours of testimony,

I've accumulated a library of over 6,000 words.

So with a single keystroke, I can essentially make Hart

recite the lyrics to any top 40 song.

May I request something from this century?

Why you got to hate on the Commodores, man?

- Yeah, they're a classic. - I'm not hating.

- I'm just saying. - Mmm, okay, all right.

Maybe this is a little bit more your scene.

Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase.

All the right junk in all the right places.

Okay, but why are all your songs about big women?

Full disclosure, Santana. I was a bottle baby.

- Gross. - It's all about that bass,

'bout that bass, 'bout that bass, no treble.

It's all about that bass.

What are you watching?

Uh, videos of cats, cats in hats,

the Dr. Seuss... thing.

Oh. Okay, well, I sent you all individual briefing emails

with details about our next assignment.

So read up, and we'll meet

in the conference area in 15 minutes.

- Copy that. - Yep.

Peter Darien, born in South Africa

to wealthy parents, he first started out as a journalist,

championing populist causes. He founded TrueLeaks,

a government and corporate watchdog site in 2010.

He's been running his highly profitable website

out of the Ecuadorian embassy in London

ever since the US brought

an indictment against him a year ago.

According to your briefing, he's preparing

to publish more classified government materials.

Putting the lives of hundreds more U.S. assets at risk.

Yeah.

So how do we gain access to the embassy?

The CIA has cultivated a relationship

with his long-term assistant, Tatiana Moore.

Once one of his most devoted followers,

she's recently had a change of heart.

Were the two romantically involved?

Speculated, but not proven.

Looks like Darien enjoys playing the field

even from inside the embassy.

Possible we're dealing with a woman scorned?

Well, for the moment, her motivation

- is immaterial to our purposes. - Which are?

I have invited Kilroy to present us with a visual aid.

Righty-o, so I, uh,

fashioned this 3-D model of the Ecuadorian embassy

in old London town based on blueprints

from Her Majesty's national archives.

Mills and I will be posing as French journalists.

Oh, parlez vous Francais?

Un poquito.

I'll be doing most of the talking.

Tatiana has been able to arrange an interview

with a French magazine that's been supportive

- of Darien in the past. - And uh, due to back to back

summits in recent weeks, the London bobbies

have been logging lots of overtime, so

I would expect a reduced police presence this weekend.

Security at foreign embassies is notoriously lax.

If the interview's on a Sunday, there will probably be less

than a dozen employees on site.

Santana and Kilroy will be in an ambulance waiting here.

Once Mills and I are in the embassy,

they'll likely take us to the third floor,

to a room, here.

Once the interview is over, Mills will remove Darien's mic,

and then apply a small amount of arbutamine paste to his skin.

Using this. It's heat activated.

So all you have to do is take off the cap,

and touch the end to his skin.

There's only one dose there, so make it count.

What does arbutamine paste do?

Once absorbed into the skin,

it induces symptoms similar to a heart attack.

Okay, so, uh, Darien collapses, uh,

somebody calls whatever their 911 is,

I intercept the call, ambulance cruises up,

we whisk him away, yeah?

Exactly. Then FBI agents will be waiting at a local airfield

with a C-17 to transport Darien back to the States for trial.

Simple, straightforward.

- And no one gets hurt. - Yeah, except for the guy

- with debilitating chest pains. - He'll be fine.

More importantly, we'll save hundreds of innocent lives

without doing damage to diplomatic relations

between two longtime allies.

And I suppose this is the usual

"if anything goes wrong, the government disavows

all knowledge and leaves us to rot" scenario?

Yeah, pretty much.

Any questions?

Yes, it is all about the bass. No treble.

Right. Got it.

You realize how ridiculous you look in that thing?

Have you looked in a mirror?

- Hipster leprechaun? - Exactly.

We are here to meet Monsieur Darien.

Okay, your bag, please.

Open your bags, please.

Thank you. Move aside.

Arms up.

- Hello. - Hello.

- May I be of assistance? - Yes, my name is Gaelle Maher.

This is my associate, Xavier. We have an appointment.

- Oh, with Peter Darien? - Yes.

Yes, his assistant is expecting you.

Empty your pockets, please.

Sorry, sir, no weapons inside the embassy.

- Merci. - Hello.

- Hello. - My name is Tatiana.

Would you follow me, please?

We are very excited to meet Mr. Darien.

I know this must be difficult for you,

- but we appreciate your help. - As soon as I saw on the news

that a family was killed, I had to do something.

Look, how is this going to work?

The less you know, the better.

Just, promise me one thing.

Promise me he won't be harmed.

- I'm afraid we can't do that. - You have our word.

Mr. Darien will be with you in a moment.

- I must return downstairs. - Thank you.

She looks a little conflicted if you ask me.

Well, Peter Darien is a master manipulator

in a position of power.

She'll be highly vulnerable.

But can we trust her?

Right now, we don't have a choice.

Gaelle!

Mmm! And, uh, Xavier.

Oh, ah, like Xavier de Magallon d'Argens.

Defender of free enterprise?

Promoter of harmony between business and labor?

Right, um, please, come, sit.

Have a spot of tea.

If you don't mind, we would like to get

straight to the interview.

Ah, bon, by all means.

What is the problem?

These pants, man. Definitely not natural fibers.

Probably doesn't help that I'm going commando.

Okay, you know what, I'm good on the details.

- Okay. - Don't need them.

- Let's just focus on the case. - Sure.

So what do you think of this Darien guy?

Guy seems like a total ass.

Yeah, that's one way to look at it.

The other way is, uh, thanks to guys like him,

We know about the mass killing, torture, and corruption

that went on in Iraq and Afghanistan.

You know, guys like him bring lies into the light.

And got innocent people killed in the process.

Yeah, there's... there's that, too.

- Who delivers on a Sunday? - Not Jesuits?

I have to agree.

- May I see your paperwork? - There it is.

Let's go... Move!

- That ain't no church group. - This ain't no fooling around.

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Shh.

Do not make a sound.

The first person to move or speak...

dies.

Synced & corrected by -robtor- www.addic7ed.com

And so, TrueLeak's motto is verum nocet,

- which literally translates to... - The truth hurts.

- Right? - Yes.

As I see it, the world is plagued

by too many secrets, too many people making decisions

that they shall never be held accountable for.

My mission is to bring those secrets into the light

and allow those people to be judged.

Even if doing so compromises global security?

Undermines the electoral process?

Puts people's lives in danger?

I have no personal agenda here, Gaelle.

I am merely a conduit for truth and transparency.

I provide the ordinary

citizen with something they could never hope

to achieve on their own... access...

to the deepest, darkest

corners of the world's power systems.

Some of these citizens you mentioned,

some of them are terrorists.

Dictators, corrupt governments...

Treat not as the sin deserves, Gaelle.

Psalm 103. Yes.

One last question.

With this statement, are you saying

that you are some sort of Christ figure?

No, your words, not mine.

But, we both have been...

Persecuted for...

Spreading the faith.

Oui?

Is, are we still rolling?

If you can just give just a moment...

It's Santana.

Eight men just walked into the front of the embassy.

Wearing work clothes, carrying AKSes.

You are not French? Who are you?

- Any idea who they are? - Not yet.

Snapped some photos, Kilroy's running them through

the Interpol database to see if he gets a hit.

What should I do?

Stay put until we figure out what to do.

Call us if you get anything.

Well, clearly neither of you is a reporter,

- so just who the hell are... - Why would eight men with guns

storm the Ecuadorian embassy in London on a Sunday afternoon?

Sounds like our friend from the elevator just sold us out.

Or maybe someone else is after him.

What are you whispering about?

I can't believe she would do that.

It makes sense. She's had time

- to get down to make the call. - Well, you can just

- tell the authorities, then. - Pipe down.

- The adults are talking. - Excuse me, if you want to

treat me like a child, fine.

But unless you tell me exactly what's going on,

I'm going to start screaming bloody murder.

Go, move! Get with the others.

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So you came here to kidnap me?

More like, take you into custody.

And Tatiana, what did you threaten her with?

Poor girl, she would never betray me

unless she had no choice.

Well, you are aware you've been indicted on charges

- of espionage and conspiracy. - The United States.

For all its success, it still remains

a very unenlightened country.

Europeans recognize the value of my work.

This case will never fly in the court of public opinion.

Well, lucky for us, it'll be an American criminal court.

- Out of my way. - Need I remind you

that there are eight men with guns downstairs?

Believe it or not, right now, we're the best option you have.

What can you two do against eight men with guns?

Go ahead.

We got an ID on one of the men who stormed the embassy.

- His name is Ruslan Varayev. - Background?

He's a Chechen separatist, really bad dude.

Fought alongside Al-Qaeda in Afghanistan,

but worst of all, he's believed to be behind

the hostage crisis at the Russian hospital last year

that killed 46 civilians.

Do you have any idea why Chechen separatists

might be after you?

I've never dealt with any Chechens,

- separatists or otherwise. - Shh.

- Keep ticking, Kilroy. - We got to move. Up.

Who sent you?

Boris Dudiyev. Russian passport.

Tell me the truth.

Were you ever planning on taking me to America,

or did you plan on killing me like you killed these two men?

If it were up to me, I would have already

snapped your neck and been done with it.

But I have a job to do.

A job that includes murder.

How can you live with yourselves?

Yeah, you're one to talk.

Those people downstairs, your assistant,

those embassy employees who put themselves on the line

just to keep you safe...

someone has a gun to their head,

just itching to pull the trigger.

You don't seem to care.

- What is it? - Improvised armband.

Chechen soldiers use them to identify

- their brethren in combat. - Send it to Kilroy.

- See if he can't find something. - Oh, by all means,

text photos to your friends instead of calling the police.

Look, you have to trust us to handle this our own way.

Trust you?

Two covert agents sent to ferry me off

to America against my will?

Well, when you put it like that...

Boris

We have to move these bodies out of sight.

Give me a hand.

You... get over here.

Count of three. One, two, three.

Boris...

Boris.

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These Chechen fighters are extremely disciplined.

They fight to the death.

If we want to survive, we've got to

find some place we can defend.

Yeah, preferably with only one way in and out.

On the plans...

at the end of the hall, there's a room.

- You know which one? - My room.

Home sweet home.

Not as glamorous as you imagined?

Don't flatter yourself. I never imagined.

Is that the only door in and out?

- Hmm? - It's a yes or no question.

Y-yes, I shall never understand you Americans.

Such a schizophrenic country, obsessed with violence.

Addicted to guns, and yet you never miss a chance

to cram your high-minded ideals of your so-called constitution

down the rest of the world's throat.

It's not a so-called constitution,

it's an actual constitution, and what can I say?

We're a complicated country.

- Is this thing up and running? - Of course, it's the key to my work.

It's my livelihood, it's my connection

to the rest of the outside world.

And a weapon of choice.

But far less deadly than the weapons you choose to employ.

Is that so?

Let me show you something.

Malik Al-Qablan.

21 years old, a U.S. asset who was murdered

shortly after his name was published on TrueLeaks.

Shot multiple times.

His mother, Amira, and his sister, Marika,

just 16, defiled after they were killed.

And his father, Sahib.

Well...

I think you can see what they did to him.

How do I know any of this is true?

Because I've been there, and I've seen it.

Guys like Malik have saved my ass a dozen times in Iraq.

Risking their lives because they believe in something.

Heroes fighting for their country.

But you...

you don't believe in anything.

You're a coward.

And you're a murderer.

Go ahead, Santana.

I was able to get close enough to see four gunmen.

Three armed with AKSes, guarding at least ten hostages

- in the embassy lobby. - That leaves two men

- unaccounted for. - They're probably already

on their way up here. Santana.

Monitor the channel 26. They're on walkies.

- Copy that. - By the way, it turns out

Mills was right about the armband.

It belongs to a Chechnyan unit that was taken out

by a Russian air strike at their training camp last month.

Why would these guys be wearing the armband

- of another unit? - To honor the men

that died in that unit.

Yeah, but not just any men.

One of them was Ruslan's youngest brother, Adlan.

- What do we know about him? - Well, he was a professor,

and only recently radicalized. Up until, like,

a few months ago, he was teaching online courses

at Chechen State College.

But, did a little more digging.

Turns out that the location of that Chechen training camp

was one of the things that was released

in the latest TrueLeaks dump.

So Ruslan's brother was killed

because Darien leaked the site location on the internet.

Ruslan's here for revenge.

Good work, we'll be in touch.

So, what do we do now?

We can't just stay here. We must do something.

- We must call someone. - Well, we can't risk

turning a bad situation into something worse.

Those hostages downstairs are our responsibility.

And there's no way these guys are going to give up

without getting what they came for.

If we could establish communication,

we might be able to negotiate with Ruslan.

I have an idea how we might be able to do that.

We just need to give them something they want.

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Please, don't hurt me. Please.

You say you are a reporter for a French magazine?

Yes, yes, I was here to interview Peter Darien.

So tell us, where is he?

I don't know. I was waiting to meet him

when I saw men with guns, and so I hid.

Who did you call?

No one, I swear.

I dropped it, it's not working.

- Nice hack, Kilroy. - It's easy to make a phone

look like it's not on and still have it transmit audio,

but the other thing you asked for is gonna take some time.

Then get on it.

- Why should I believe you? - I swear to you,

I am telling the truth.

- Go down with the others. - She's good.

So, what now?

You ever fire a gun?

I always preferred books to bullets.

When the blast of war blows in our ears,

imitate the actions of the tiger.

"Henry V." I am impressed.

Yeah.

Well, I hate to break it to you, pal,

but the blast of war is here.

Time to summon up the blood.

Everything is going to be okay, I promise.

They teach you to say that?

Maybe, but I believe in my team.

I'm going to be sick.

- What are you doing? - She's going to vomit.

First trimester?

11 weeks.

- How did you know? - Well, it's fairly obvious.

- Is this your first? - Mm-hmm.

- Does anyone else here know? - Just Penny.

She's my only friend here at work.

Just... just keep trying to breathe.

Your name is Tatiana. You work for Peter Darien.

Tell me where he is.

- I don't know. - All right...

Tell me where he is or her death will be on your head.

He has a private room on the third floor.

Room 306.

Take three men, bring him to me alive.

Secure the hostages.

Move, that way, move!

We got four men coming this way.

Well, what do you want me to do about it?

My hand is literally shaking.

What if I can't pull the trigger?

I wouldn't worry about that too much.

He wants you alive.

They'll probably just torture you until you beg to be killed.

What?

- Relax. - What is all this?

Body armor.

Ow!

Ugh.

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Attention, Ruslan Varayev. The embassy is surrounded.

Put down your weapons, and come out with your hands up.

So much for the body armor.

It saved your life.

Deflected the bullet from your heart.

Good news is, it went through and through.

Bad news, it looks like it nicked your subclavian artery.

Ruslan Varayev, we repeat, release the hostages

and come out with your hands up.

Sounds like the cavalry showed up after all.

Don't get excited. It's not who you think it is.

Check it out, I got those emergency lights

in front of the building turned all the way up.

- I'm kind of busy right now. - Sorry.

Talk to me, Ruslan.

Who is out there? How do they know my name?

No one comes within 30 meters of the building,

or the hostages will die.

There's no need for bloodshed, Ruslan.

We're prepared to negotiate. Are we actually prepared?

No, no, I need more time.

How much more time do you need?

- Five minutes. - I am listening.

We don't have five minutes.

Then stall, that's what you do, you stall.

We have your brother, Adlan.

How... how is that stalling?

What else do you want me to say?

I don't know, it's not my job.

We both know that my brother is dead.

No, he's alive.

He survived the Russian air strike

with only superficial wounds.

- That is a lie. - It is the truth.

Adlan is being held in an Afghan prison,

and we have the power to release him.

Who is this?

Someone who can bring your brother home.

Show me proof. You have three minutes.

All right, I got you three minutes.

Yeah, I know, I was here. I need more time.

Tell him about the time you shared a POM Talk

with Fat Leonard in Malaysia.

How do you know about that story?

- I didn't tell you that story. - You must have.

That's pretty creepy.

You're losing too much blood.

I'm going to need to cauterize the artery.

- Okay? - You know how to do that?

I've seen it done.

Once.

What are you looking for?

You got anything stronger than that booze?

Oh, I have an exquisite 12-year-old whiskey,

- 110 proof. - Where?

Under the counter there.

That's the one.

No, what are you doing? That's expensive.

- Bite on this. - Ow.

Okay, just tell me before you...

Dude, time's up.

All right, it's not going to be my best work.

- Doesn't matter. - Okay, all right.

Ruslan, we have proof of life.

Check the main monitor on the security desk.

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So shall we discuss a deal?

My compliments to your technical staff.

An impressive display.

Only, my brother lost his right eye

when his rifle misfired six months ago.

Out, everybody out, move!

Enough stalling.

Either Peter Darien surrenders to me

within the next two minutes, or I start killing people.

You die first!

Please, don't hurt anyone.

I'm coming down.

- That must be Darien. - So what?

We just hand him over to the bad guys now?

Mills isn't going to let that happen.

Listen, I hate to be an alarmist,

but our entire plan just went down the loo.

You know, I mean, maybe we

just get the cops involved at this point.

Oh, are you in a hurry to go back to jail?

No, but they're already on their way.

I've been monitoring the local police,

and they dispatched a unit to our location.

The cops are coming here, now?

Yeah, pretty much.

At last.

- Who are you? - I'm not armed.

I'm just here to deliver a message.

You see, my people,

they have this building surrounded.

There's no way you can walk out of here alive.

These people have no quarrel with you.

Let them go. I swear,

We will let you walk out of here peacefully.

Give him to me, and we will leave.

You see, I can't do that.

This man, he broke the law.

- And he has to be punished. - He will be punished.

Slowly, painfully, so my brother will be avenged.

- So what about you? - You prepared to die

in the sake of revenge?

Don't look at him. I'm asking you.

You want to live to see your family again?

Enough of this.

Ruslan!

Go!

It's over, Ruslan.

Put the gun down.

Mills, cops are on the way.

Whatever you're going to do, do it fast.

- Hey, I wanted to thank you. - Oh, it's not necessary.

No, but you risked everything to save us, why?

Uh...

It's the right thing to do.

Let's just say that I...

I identify with what you've gone through.

You know, working for someone you believe in,

for a cause you believe in,

only to discover it's not what you thought.

- I should go. - I want you to know.

The baby, it's not Peter's.

And I admit, there was a time

when I thought he was the most brilliant man in the world.

But when I learned I was pregnant,

my whole outlook changed.

I could no longer support someone

who put the lives of brave people

and their families at risk.

I tried to talk to him about it, but he refused to listen.

That's when I knew I had to do something.

I don't want my child to grow up thinking

their mother was a liar, or a coward.

What you did was very, very brave.

You should feel proud.

Funny.

I don't feel proud.

I'll handle the police.

Bit of a sticky wicket, eh?

My fault. I, um...

Texted the police on your phone

whilst you were pouring out my expensive whiskey.

You know, the Brits aren't exactly fans of yours either.

True, and if they caught me, they would ship me to America

before you could say Jack Robinson.

But as long as I stay on this side of that line...

I'm grand.

I have something for you.

Your Pentagon's classified documents.

All 1,000 pages. No copies were made.

You have my word.

And you're just going to give them to me?

Why?

I've realized that if innocent people die

as a result of something I've published,

that could be...

a public relations nightmare.

You're worried about publicity?

Unfortunately, it's time for you to say good-bye.

Unless you'd like to explain yourself to the bobbies?

But seeing as how your mission here isn't sanctioned...

I'm guessing that would cause quite a nasty hullabaloo.

Well played, old chap.

Truce?

I need to speak with you both.

This man's been shot. He's bleeding fast.

This way, follow me.

This man needs to get to hospital.

Where do you think you're going?

I still need to speak with you.

I'm his brother in law.

I promised I'd take him to the hospital.

And which hospital is that?

- Terring Cross. - Terring Cross, that's right.

Chip-chip, very good, cheerio.

Let's roll.