All language subtitles for London.spy.S01E04.ORGANiC (HDTV 720p).English-WWW.MY-SUBS.CO

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- Stay where you are!
- Get down!

A specialist escort
agency for the very rich.

Alex didn't use escorts.

I have to buy a battery for my laptop.

'I stole something... from the attic.'

It's a locked cylinder.

- It needs a code. - Which
you don't know? - No.

I've gone over every
conversation, every word.

Danny, you've got to figure it
out, you're the only one who can.

Did you know that I
suffer from depression?!

Did you know that in the past I drank?!

I didn't know Alex well personally.

There are not many students
who start their degree at 15.

He was murdered.

So I take it you want to
speak to his professor?

Marcus Shore.

Why did they murder him?

I don't know.

Whatever Alex discovered,

whatever it was, whatever it
is, no-one wants in the open.

We're not up against
one intelligence agency,

we're up against them all.

I need information.

What does it mean? It
means we are quite alone.

Get in the car.

It's for you.

Not here!

'You're looking for answers.

'But are you ready for them?

'Get in the hotel.

'Room 116.'

'The bathroom.

'Get in.

'Clothes on.'

'Now you're clean,

'we can talk a little freer.

'Get changed.

'Outside.'

Where are we going?

'Do you want to know who Alex was or not?'

'The doors are locked, Danny.

'No way out.

'No way back.

'I want to take you on a
journey... into Alex's past.'

'Remember this place?

'Are you sure you know what
really happened in there?

'Walk.'

'A reservation.

'For two.'

There you go.

Menu.

Here I am.

Alex's past.

Well... this is weird.

Never done anything like this before.

Like this?

What is this?

Being paid

to tell someone how I...

.. their boyfriend.

They said you wouldn't believe me.

Who are they?

Who are they?

They are the people pulling my strings.

I have no control over
what I'm about to do.

Like this...

No control.

Alex... ate breakfast here...

.. almost every morning.

You can even tell me
what he liked to order?

What?

Oh, to be convincing, you mean?

- You watched him?
- Serving.

- A waiter?
- Me? No.

Please. I was pretending.

The service...

.. it's very expensive
because the people, we...

.. don't know that we are... escorts.

How is that possible?

We pretend.

We pretend to meet them by chance,

we pretend to be won
over by their charms...

.. we pretend to...

for pleasure...

- which takes some serious pretending.
- Who pays you?

Our clients aren't the people we...

We report back.

So and so...

.. likes it like this.

So and so...

likes a little of this.

Blackmail?

But that's not my business.

You just do the fucking.

I just do the fucking.

'They told me to meet him...

'in the way you met him.'

I'm sorry... 'An accident.

'They told me to be like you.

'They told me to act like you.'

In the end, Alex wasn't so tricky.

He just needed to believe...

.. he was being good

.. all the way up until he was being...

a little bit bad.

How do you seduce a good man?

'My approach was simple.

'I told him a sad story.'

I tell him it's the will and
last testament of my mother.

And my mother, she never loved me, bitch.

In her will, the bitch leaves
just three things to me.

Just three paintings. That's all.

And Alex, listening like a puppy dog.

And I tell him, heartbroken...

.. they are the three
paintings I painted for her.

I'm an artist, I say...

No, not yet an artist,

- aspiring to be.
- Pretending to be.

That's a true story.

I am an artist.

What?

What do you think? I grew
up wanting to be an escort?

Enough, Danny.

Enough with not believing.

What do you need?

I'll give it to you? Hmm?

You need those little details?

A birthmark on the inside of his thigh?

Something whispered?

Something moaned?

He had a thirst, I can tell you that.

Like a man crawling out of the desert.

Yeah?

Throat dry.

Lips dry.

Gulping up all those missed years.

Where?

My place.

Your place?

My fake place.

Why did he come round?

To see my paintings, of course.

What did you do?

'You hate yourself for asking.'

So... 'But you had to know.'

I'll be right back, OK? Give me a second.

'You had to ask...

'what did we do?'

We played a game.

How long can we talk without mentioning

the only thing we were
both thinking about?

The first game lasted an hour.

The second game...

.. lasted a little longer...

I rang him afterwards,

but he didn't answer.

The client wanted more.

But Alex wasn't interested.

Why wouldn't you tell me
that he kept coming back?

Because I can see you're
good at sniffing a lie.

So, I told you the truth.

Why did they hire you?

I don't know, I don't care.

It's just a job.

He's dead.

Your job. He was murdered.

You think you're not involved?

Because you seem like a loose end to me.

I was told to pay for our dinner.

Hey?

How else are you going to let
them know what a great job you did?

I can see strings on you too.

What are you thinking?

Say it again.

What are you thinking?

Nothing.

You were Alex's first experience of love.

If he enjoyed a second, would
you seem less important?

Could the thrill of the new
replace the comfort of the old?

Watergate wasn't just about
bugging the opposition.

They used prostitutes to collect
information on rival candidates

to shame them, manipulate
them, destroy them.

Sex has always been a means of control.

In the end, your
relationship became a threat

to their relationship with him.

He changed you, you changed him,

priorities altered, loyalties altered.

I noticed it in our friendship.

The two of you were besotted.

The rest of the world ceased to exist,

but Alex was one of their
most important minds.

Did you imagine they'd just
allow him to drift away?

I didn't think about it.

It's all THEY would've thought about.

What binds this brilliant young man to us?

The Queen? Our history? His parents?

I accept that I didn't know
anything about his... work.

His job.

The truth is, I didn't really
know him as a person either.

I didn't know him.

Of all the attacks they've
used, including your health,

the one that has proved
most effective is smut.

For you, of all people.

He made a mistake, that's not it.

But why didn't he tell me?

Some of it? Any of it?

Because you wanted him to be perfect.

He saw that more clearly than you.

It was his funeral last week.

Do you know how I found out?

I heard about it on the news.

He was buried at a private ceremony
for... close friends and family.

I can't count how many men I've comforted

when their partners were dying

and the family wouldn't
allow them into the hospital,

or the church where they're buried.

I'm tired of it...

tired of hearing about it.

He wasn't close to his
parents, he was close to you.

Hold your own funeral,
say your own goodbye.

That's what I should be doing.

Saying goodbye.

What am I doing all this other stuff for?

Because Alex discovered some
government secret? So what?

Cos they lied about a war?

They spy on us? Who..?
What's it got to do with me?

And you know, I don't
know any code. I don't.

'So, I don't know...'

Maybe, whatever those secrets are,
maybe they weren't meant for me.

Then, that's that.

Do you believe in soul mates?

No.

Not only do I not believe in them...

.. it's not even a nice idea.

Not a nice idea?

That there's only just one
other person out there for you.

What are the odds this person
would be in the same country?

Or the same city?

That their paths would even cross?

It would mean almost everyone in
the world is with the wrong person.

If it's a way of saying, "we're
good together", why not just say...

"we're good together"?

But if you mean it literally...

- You think there are better people
out there for you? - There might be.

For both of us.

But since we don't know them,
it's just a theoretical.

Yes. It's...

a sentimental idea.

The maths doesn't add up.

But...

we're by the fire, we're
under a night sky.

Couldn't you just have said "yes"?

Is that what your soul mate would've done?

Can it be opened?

If you know the code.

This is us.

Oh, I've done a lot of things with
a lot of different people and...

that's part of the reason I'm sure...

that we're something special.

But, for you, it...

I don't want you to stay with
me just because I'm the first.

So, you should see other people.

You should.

- I don't want to. - I only
meant... - I don't need to.

.. that there's only just one
other person out there for you.

Scottie?

Scottie?!

Scottie?

Scottie?!

Scottie?

- I was just remembering.
- Huh?

A place.

I was remembering...

.. a place.

Right, we need to get you to the hospital.

Will you just listen
to me, for once, Danny?!

You were remembering... a place.

A place where no-one cares.

Pathetic.

Thank you.

My parents used to chide me.

"You were such a happy child."

How long?

Like this?

Three weeks.

Worse and worse each day.

Now as bad as it's ever been.

It can't be coincidence, can it?

30 years I've been OK and, now, like this?

Why might someone who's managed
depression for 30 years

suddenly suffer a relapse?

For no reason?

This is what we're going to do.

We'll get new pills.

Real pills from a different doctor.

You can keep them on you at all...

Unless they switch them
before they give them to you.

I'll get them illegally.

I know someone. He can get anything.

On your shell.

Until they find a crack.

A frailty.

A vulnerability.

No matter how small.

And then they pick away.

How do you kill an alcoholic?

With alcohol.

How do you kill a drug addict?

With drugs.

How do you kill a depressive?

Where'd you get them?

People tell the doctor whatever story,

collect a prescription, sell it to me.

They're good. It's all
good. Always good from me.

Do you want something else?

No.

Nothing else.

Thank you.

Have you examined the contents?

We're going to need help.

With help comes risk.

The more people you involve...

Look what they've done to us.

That was before they knew we had this.

I can do this alone.

There are rumours.

About how the... Kremlin

guarantees the loyalty of
its most important citizens.

Under the pretext of celebrating
an election to the State Duma,

the individual is treated to the
finest meal Moscow has to offer.

At some point during that night...

.. this prized individual blacks out...

.. waking in a hotel suite,

on a bed, beside a terrified naked child.

Before he can say anything, the
FSB storm the room, arrest him,

and take him to an interrogation
cell in Moscow's Butyrka prison,

where the individual swears
he is not a paedophile.

"My drink must have been spiked!"

"I, I've been framed by my
enemies!" He doesn't know.

He can't explain. "But it is a mistake!"

And, to his surprise...

the FSB officer agrees
that it is a mistake,

but it is a mistake they
will hold on record forever,

a mistake no-one will ever see, unless...

the individual makes a
mistake of a political kind.

And, with that, the
man's choice is clear --

privilege or disgrace.

Destruction or survival.

The FSB officer believes he's won.

The individual believes he's lost.

But those systems of oppression...

.. as ruthless as they appear,

as unbeatable as they seem, never hold,

never last, never survive,

for we will not live in fear.

I would like to finish this
particular adventure with you,

Daniel Edward Holt.

If you'll have me.

We're being watched.

We will be followed.

So we separate.

Shake them off.

And meet up at a place...

where no-one can follow us
without revealing themselves.

The place where no-one cares?

I've always taken comfort from
the idea that people don't care.

That they have better
things to think about,

that there are more important
matters to worry about.

I like it when people walk past me

and couldn't care less what I'm
wearing, or whose hand I'm holding.

The place where no-one cares.

When I was young, I spent a
lot of time searching for it,

and I promised myself, if I ever found it,

if it ever existed, that's
where I'd make my home.

What do you think?

Ambition.

But no conviction.

You skip from short stories to lyrics,

from poems to sketches,

hoping the world will
tell you who you are.

You must tell the world.

There you are.

Well done.

You weren't followed?

Well, I hope not.

So, will Marcus help us?

He didn't say.

Keep back,

and then that gives you
your 'B' for 'Baritone'.

- Oh, I see -- no,
four, of course. - Yes.

- And that's got...
- Where did you two meet?

Cambridge.

We shared a flat.

I was the first person he shared
the secret of his sexuality with.

At that time, it was illegal.

And there were rumours.

So, then, I... agreed to play
the part of... his lover.

And we walked around arm in arm, and we...

had picnics in the scholar's garden and...

.. it was supposed to last
about two months or so.

It lasted two years.

Are you gay?

No.

Did you see other people?

No.

I tried to become the man
I was pretending to be.

You know, I prayed for
the right kind of desire?

- A sham romance, you might say. - No.

No, no.

We're friends. We have been ever since.

We can't be sad about that. I
refuse to be sad about that.

It's all very touching.

Marcus...

This is Danny, Alex's
partner. And Scottie.

Where is it?

Cheers.

You didn't know, did
you? How smart he was?

I knew.

But not really.

Not in the way you did, no.

His partner...

without any appreciation of his intellect.

Beyond some generalised idea
that he was good with numbers.

Love without knowledge.

Popular culture might depict that
as a romantic notion, I suppose.

He never spoke about his work.

What did you talk about?

Everything else.

I see.

No, I don't. I don't see at all.

Well, what did you two talk about?

- Outside of work?
- We didn't.

Look, try to understand,

I was sure,

absolutely certain that he was going
to change the world in some way.

Not my world. THE world.

Can you imagine the
enormity of that feeling?

Being in the company of someone like that?

We knew different people.

Hmm.

The man I knew was exceptional.

- The man you knew was not. - The...
- Unless you're going to tell me

how many sugars he took in his
tea, or how he liked to be fucked.

Are these the details that define us?

I think that...

.. being admired is lonely.

You're right, I'm sure.

But that was the price he had to pay.

The ordinary world wasn't for him.

And his flirtation with it...

was always going to end badly.

Professor?

I miss him, too.

He did it.

The 9/11 attackers sent e-mails

using pre-arranged code words.

"The Faculty Of Urban Planning"
was the World Trade Center.

The, uh, The Pentagon was
"The Faculty Of Fine Arts".

Mohammed Atta's final message
to the other terrorists

referred to their semesters beginning

in three weeks at the faculties
of Urban Planning and Fine Arts.

Two e-mails.

In this one,

"zoo" means zoo.

In this one, it means airport.

How do you tell them apart?

When...

people...

who go to the zoo

also visit...

.. museums.

They watch animated movies.

Buy children's clothes.

And donate... to animal charities.

Convert our entire online
history into numbers,

and a visit to the zoo...

looks...

like this.

A coded message looks...

.. like this.

The 9/11 terrorists used innocent words,

but they didn't use
them like the rest of us.

We like to think of
ourselves as individuals.

But we're not.

We're a pattern.

We are...

married, gay...

.. straight, professional,

rich, poor.

Our online DNA,

revealing... our true nature...

.. even...

when we lie.

I told him he would change the world.

I just didn't tell him
how dangerous it would be.

Alex decided to apply
his concept to speech.

Words don't occur in isolation.

They're part of a series of actions.

Your intake of breath,

facial gestures, pupil
dilation, hand movements.

Alex theorised they formed patterns,

and these patterns would be different

if we were telling the
truth or telling a lie.

A lie detector?

Important lies are told
by important people.

They'd never consent
to a test of any kind.

Alex didn't need their consent.

They've already provided
all the information.

The most important people in the
world are also the most documented.

Study every word they've ever spoken.

Mundane, profound -- it doesn't matter.

Analyse every variable possible.

Translate that information into numbers,

and identify the patterns.

A fingerprint...

for our truths and our lies.

We'd be able to analyse every statement.

Every political claim.

Er, every case for war.

Every court case verdict.

The end of lies.

If the four of us survive a week,

I'd be very surprised.

You're a thoroughly nice
guy, aren't you, Danny?

So was Alex.

For all his intellect,
an innocent, really.

When he told me he was going to work
for GCHQ, I knew it was a mistake.

He didn't belong in that world.

And I could feel him
wanting me to tell him so.

Why didn't you say something?

We didn't have that
kind of a relationship.

I take it you have some kind of plan?

We must prove it works.

You don't have a plan, do you?

No.

He needed to believe I
did. And we need him.

You see?

Proof -- the orderly
functioning of society

depends on our ability to lie.

Given the choice of no lies,
or lies, every organization,

every person of power, without
exception, will choose lies.

Maybe Alex imagined a
better way of doing things.

I wonder when he began
work on this project.

Why does that matter?

Maybe he was ashamed of
the lies he'd told you.

Ashamed that your
relationship was built on lies.

Maybe on some level,

he thought he was making amends.

- To who?
- To you.

Danny!

- I'm to blame.
- I'm sorry.

I'm to blame.

I never said "to blame".

He did it for me?

It's possible.

I never asked for it.

He knew you'd find out that
he'd lied about much of his life.

He must have worried that
you'd end up hating him.

He must have worried about
that moment every day.

Would you still love him if you knew?

Could you still love him if you knew?

Would you re-examine your love
story -- Alex's only love story...

.. and decide, in the end,
it was nothing but a lie?

He was never sure.

How could he be?

I wish I could've told him.

That none of it mattered.

The lies, the mistakes.

That I loved him, just the same.

That I, I love him. Still.
Now. Knowing it all.

I wish he could've heard me say it.

Yes.

He'll never know.

No.

This is going to sound a, a bit...

But... it occurred to me I'd
never said it out loud before.

I love you.

Very much.

You're not going to be charged.

Is that it?

You're free to go.

You brought me here like
this to tell me that?

Will anyone be charged?

Danny...

.. for you...

.. this is over.

This isn't over.

This isn't over.

- Scottie?
- Danny.

- Danny...
- Scottie?

There will be a note.