Original subtitles

(Anxious breathing)

- Oi, Liam, that was mine. - Tough noogies, Dad.

- You snooze, you lose. - What's a noogy?

- You don't wanna know. - I'm sure I don't.

- Put your homework in your bag. - 1 did.

What's that by the bread bin?

- Dad, I buttered that! - Mm, yeah, it's lovely!

You have a good day at school. Right, babe, I'm off.

Dad, don't call Mum babe.

It's almost as embarrassing as when you...

do that.

Stay calm and everything will be fine.

Put your hands on the wheel and keep them there.

There you go. Now, take a look in your front-room window.

- You can't... - We can. We did. It's happening.

Just do exactly as I say and your family will be fine.

What do you want?

Not to do anything stupid when I take this thing off your neck.

I understand.

Are we calm?

No, but I'm not going to do anything heroic while you've got my family.

Good man.

What do you want?

I want you to go to work.

You never worry about nuclear warfare?

- No... - Freaks me out.

You just gotta remember your training.

Always hold your weapon at arm's length so when the barrel melts,

none of the bits of molten metal scorch your uniform.

I'm serious.

So am I.

(Louis tuts)

What now?

I think I lay in dog shit.

Well, apparently, it's lucky.

Hold up. Suspicious material.

- You what? - Step out of the vehicle, Sarge.

Toast smuggling.

- You better destroy the evidence. - Lost your appetite, Sarge?

Late night.

What?

(Louis) Smiler over there looks shifty.

Somebody's definitely pissed in his Ricicles.

- You OK, Paul? - Just haven't had my caffeine yet.

No, me neither. Someone forgot to refill the coffee machine.

- Looking forward to next month? - There's so little going on here,

I feel I'm retired already.

You on security in the visitors' centre?

Yes, sir.

Crack on, then.

- Have a good day. - You too.

Thanks.

- (Beeps) - Hold on, sir.

Step this way, please.

Thank you, sir.

Next, please.

Right, then, daily sit reports.

Alert codes remain at yellow-threat level.

None of the overnight patrols had anything to report.

There are two student parties in the visitors' centre today,

so don't frighten anyone with your weapons.

Carry on.

Here at Bushwell, the reactor is managed and operated by UKFL,

a company that combines global grasp and world-class operations.

Our activities span the entire nuclear-energy cycle,

from fuel manufacture and reactor design

to decommissioning and storage of spent fuel.

- So you're a private company? - Yes.

The nuclear industry is a public-private partnership.

Like hospitals, schools, that kind of thing?

- Sort of. - That's great.

Nuclear safety left to the lowest bidder?

No offence, but wouldn't it be better run by the state?

Chernobyl was run by the state.

We're highly responsible and very tightly regulated.

We even have, as you saw as you entered, a dedicated police force.

(Phone)

(Sighs)

DCI Booth.

- Are you in the citadel? - Who is this?

Watching the monitors to the visitors' centre?

- No. - They're down. Take a look.

I'll call you back with the details. No good.

Chief!

Oh, God...

Visitors' centre! Hostages! Establish the perimeter! Go, go, go!

Arms!

Turn!

- What do we do, sir? - Don't panic.

- Don't panic? They have guns. - Be calm. Stay calm.

They're in the visitors' centre.

That's why it's half a mile from the citadel and the reactors.

To keep the crazies away from where they can do damage.

We are secure here.

Stand still! Stand still! Nobody move! Nobody move!

Red card! I repeat, red card!

Do you understand?

DCI Booth, do you understand what I mean when I say "red card"?

I am a staff sergeant in the SAS.

Do you understand me when I say "red card"?

SAS?

You're supposed to be the good guys. What's going on?

Ask the bloke in charge.

Not him... Him.

Zero Alpha, this is Romeo One, Zero Alpha.

We have control.

Red card has been delivered.

This is a drill. I repeat, a drill.

We have executed an assessment of your security measures,

according to DTI regulations.

How did we do?

You're all dead.

You and the rest of southwest England.

You better get a brew on.

Sugar?

Not gonna make this any sweeter, is it?

You caught us with our pants down. Now you get to give us a kicking.

We're not here to score points, Detective Chief Inspector.

- We're on the same side. - Shall we get on with it, then?

This is Captain Fleming, this is Staff Sergeant Garvie.

They planned and executed the drill independently

of any special knowledge or resources available to us.

Jolly good. Meaning?

We used only publicly available information and close observation

to evolve and implement our plan.

Just the same as any moderately intelligent,

patient terrorist might have done.

So you're brainy and you're patient. Congratulations.

You made us look like a bunch of tits.

Making you look like tits wasn't the brief.

- It was a bonus, though. - Staff!

(Sniggering)

Boss. I apologise.

Everyone take a deep breath and get over themselves.

- Patrick. - Right.

We've been tasked by the DTI and the MOD to test nuclear security.

I've just found a loophole.

This was prompted by intel chatter picked up by the security services

about a move on a nuclear facility,

hence the need to make sure that your security is top of the line.

- Which it isn't. - Clearly.

- So where do we go from here? - Onward and upward.

Red Troop are further tasked to stay on site

and advise, monitor and bolster existing security.

You're gonna hold our hands? My lads won't like it.

Your lads will take your lead and I'm sure they'll love it.

No, they won't and nor will I.

I retire in a couple of months.

Until now, my record's been spotless.

You're right. I need to get over myself.

Good man.

If you're staying, you're gonna need somewhere to bunk down.

This is cosy.

Sleeping next to a nuclear reactor, yeah.

What? You forgot your lead pyjamas, mate?

I sleep au naturel, mon ami.

Do you mind? I am trying to eat.

You know how many of the firemen

who went into Chernobyl died within three years?

Is this another one of your uplifting statistics?

- Nigh on all of them. - Let's not try to set fire to anything.

What brings you to London, sir? Business or pleasure?

(American) Ideally both but primarily business.

- What might that be? - Toilet seats.

Sir?

I know! Don't ask, it's a family business.

Heated toilet seats. I'm here for the trade fair at Olympia.

Heated toilet seats...

Given your country's cold winters and poorly insulated bathrooms,

- I hope to make a Killing. - Well, that's a first.

Enjoy your stay, Mr Haley. Thank you.

- Mr Haley? - Mr Burton?

- Hey, dog. - Dog.

- You make these names up? - They come on the passports.

Looks like our client has a sense of humour.

- Where are the guys? - They're...playing football.

- Football? - Soccer.

I never did get soccer. It's a girl's game.

Relax, Gunny. These guys are the dealio.

- They motivated? - Oh, yeah.

Just the way you like them. High-speed, low-drag.

The thing to focus on is they've hired you for your expertise.

- As a specialist. - Good to see you too.

- I am a specialist. - So don't diss them to their faces.

They robbed banks across Russia to pay your price.

Well, they still look like crazies.

Like that's a bad thing? Since when have you worried who paid your fee?

Dog, these guys may look like a bag of puke,

but they're stone Killers.

Guys, listen up, this is Haley.

Haley, we pay you good money.

- You good? - Does the Pope shit in the Vatican?

All right, Haley, this is Raas, Dvah, Tree, Chetyreh.

1 get it. One, two, three, four in Russian.

- (Speaks Russian) - The devil's children.

Neato. You kids wanna play with some toys, huh?

- Bang, bang, boom. - Yes, yes, you take us now.

All right, let's go.

Where did you find these Fruit Loops?

Kiev. And keep your shit wired tight, Gunny.

They found me, remember?

OK, you lot, listen in.

This is Dr Warner.

She'll be giving us an orientation chat about nuclear accidents.

Only orientation I need to know

is which direction my arse is facing so I can I kiss it goodbye.

We've all done our NBC training, sir.

You'll all need one of these.

Anyone working on site has to wear a radiation detector.

Are you all sitting comfortably?

Ah, crack on, Doctor. They think better on their feet.

Hiroshima. 60 years on.

It's not getting prettier.

There are two types of radiation exposure.

Irradiation, which is exposure to waves that pass through your body,

leading to acute radiation sickness, damaged DNA,

cancer, etcetera.

- Etcetera? - We don't need to go into detail,

but they aren't pretty, either.

Irradiation doesn't make the victim radioactive, that's a second form,

which we call contamination.

Which is contact with and retention of radioactive material,

say, dust, which is absorbed by the skin or ingested.

This won't give you radiation sickness but it will kill you

- with things like cancer and... - More etcetera.

There are three types of contamination.

Type one is haematopoietic.

That one went right over my head.

Or through your bone marrow, spleen, lymph glands,

all the major sites of blood production.

You'll feel nauseous for the first two to 12 hours and then fine for a week,

unaware that your blood-producing system is dying.

Survive for five weeks, you might get better.

Most don't.

That's put me right off.

Gastrointestinal contamination occurs

when you ingest nuclear-contaminated material.

Cells lining your gut are dying and bloody diarrhoea is the first stage

in a painful death as the bacteria from your digestive tract

fatally invade the rest of the body.

And the third type of contamination?

Type three is cerebrovascular.

That's contamination of blood and brain,

leading to confusion, nausea, vomiting, diarrhoea,

shock, plunging blood pressure,

seizures, coma, death.

- Always. - Excuse me.

OK, these are your guns. AKs, so I figure you know how to use them.

These are your suits. We'll drill you on how to put them on.

No suits. We don't care.

OK, your funeral.

- Radio jammer, explosives and... - For the phone masts.

..more explosives. I know my colleague's briefed you

but I wanna go over it again, OK?

OK.

OK, we've got a big day tomorrow, so let's get this right.

OK?

Yeah.

We've got a meeting first thing

about their transport security, so I'm gonna sack it.

Good idea.

Right, the area of activity we're most concerned about

is the transport of materials out of the perimeter of the facility.

Transportation is one of our biggest headaches, no question.

It's the one place where we're vulnerable.

It's one of the places we're vulnerable.

Anyway, here's the drill.

This beast is the Hazmat truck.

It's tougher than most tanks,

the wheels are solid, the drive train is double-armoured.

The driver travels in a cockpit with its own air supply.

It can take a round from a mortar or a cannon and it won't breach.

Stall this on a railway crossing with a train coming,

worry about the train.

- You sound confident. - Too confident.

It travels in its own motorcade,

the road ahead is swept by out-riders

and the escort team travel in armoured Land Rovers.

As you can see, it's a titanic piece of engineering.

Let's hope it doesn't meet an iceberg.

We've never had an accident or lost anything,

transporting material by road or by rail.

- Very impressive. - 1 hope so.

Because it's a dummy.

We send this off, lights flashing, siren wailing,

calling attention to itself.

Meanwhile, it's rubbish day.

Come with me.

{Truck engine)

- (Becca) Ugh! Christ, Louis! - What?

I think this is where they make your aftershave.

Ha, ha, ha... Funny...

As you can smell, this is the real thing.

This, however, isn't.

This is built to the same specification as the Hazmat truck.

It's bomb-proof, crash-proof, bad-guy-proof.

What happens is the regular rubbish lorry

drives into the facility, disappears round the back,

parks up out of sight, and this identical truck leaves.

No one outside notices any difference.

It picks up an escort of armoured plain-clothes police

once it's outside.

- Bait and switch. - Exactly.

No one knows it's carrying nuclear materials.

No one pays it any attention.

- All right, I admit, it's clever. - Praise from Caesar...

Maybe you'd like to join the convoy as a ride-along.

See if there are any aspects where you'd advise tightening up.

Fair enough. Dave, you wanna go with?

A ride-along. What joy...

The convoy is carrying rods of gamma-ray-emitting cobalt,

not actually used here on site but in food-irradiation plants.

- Don't ask. - Or buy veg from the supermarket.

- The container is numbered. - (Becca) Weird.

That's, like, one digit off my phone number.

777 7137. Mine's 136.

The sevens signify cobalt. The 137 its isotope.

- Interesting. - Are you serious?

Yeah, now I know that number you won't give me.

You should put your belt on.

We've got an airbag.

If I need to go for my weapon, it gets in the way.

Having fun yet?

Do I look like I'm having fun?

You're not Johnny Chuckles at the best of times. It's hard to tell.

It's this mob. Nuclear rentacop.

- Excuse me? - No. I don't.

Sticks in my throat.

Don't play around with things that can blow up the planet.

We walked into your gaffe like pikeys blagging a sub-post office

and you all but held the door for us.

Be fair. We are very good at what we do.

Wake up, Dave, there are plenty of people like us.

Know the ropes, have the training.

All it takes is misguided fanatics or somebody with enough money.

Listen, you need to educate yourself, Sergeant.

Nowadays the nuclear industry is safe.

That's what they told my old man in 1956.

Montebello Islands.

We blew up an atoll in the Pacific.

15 Kilotons.

The geniuses thought it'd be a great idea to send HMS Diana into the fallout

to see how it affected the ship.

My dad was 17.

- Boy sailor. - I didn't know, mate.

Why would you?

No one had a clue. It was a complete cake-and-arse party.

Cancer of the thyroid at 30.

We didn't get to play a lot of football together, you know what I mean?

He barely got to see me walk.

Sorry, mate.

Well, let's just keep it between you, me and him, eh?

My point is, you don't play about...

Look out!

Lose the phones.

They're gone.

Good work. Let's pop the cherry.

{Machine-gun fire)

Shit!

- Dave, you OK? - Better than that bloke.

- Broken neck. - Well, he should've worn his seat belt.

All call signs, this is Romeo One, Zero Alpha. We are under attack.

- All signals are jammed. - They're Crows.

Let's go!

Drive, drive, drive!

Move!

Dave!

I'm fine. Armour took it.

- Go! - Go, go, go!

Keep trying the radio.

Bollocks!

Christ on a bloody bicycle, Henry.

Patrick!

- Grab your suits and mount up. - Is this a drill?

Move! We've got a man down

and nuclear material loose in the Home Counties!

Dog, we're bad!

- We're still bad. - High-speed, low-drag.

- As ever, buddy. - I'll drop the items then I'll call.

(Inaudible)

Dave?

Kevlar took the rounds. Cracked ribs, refuses to go to hospital.

- You? - Pissed off, ready to get even.

- Tell me about them. - Military.

- Sure? - It's the way we would've done it.

The Kit. They had NBC suits and their vehicle had solid tyres.

They jammed the radios, did something to the telephones.

They took out the area's phone-relay masts.

You see my point.

They knew how to get into the vehicle, had the Kit,

and were in and out in under four minutes.

I messed up, lost them at the crossroads.

Don't second-guess yourself. You did more than could be expected.

You two were just along for the ride.

- You win some, you lose some. - Thanks for the cliché.

When the some you might be losing is London, doesn't really help.

(Dempsey) Well, given the likelihood of London as a target,

I suggest we erect a cordon around it

until we know where the cobalt is.

Are we premature?

With respect to our political masters, this isn't open to debate or spin.

- I resent that. - Good for you, sir.

There is a contingency plan known as Contingency November Echo.

It means all trains into London stopped,

all tubes, all roads blocked.

All available police out of offices and onto the streets.

My men are searching the immediate area but we need massive backup.

No planes or helicopters, big or small,

to be allowed to overfly the city.

Exactly. I believe the RAF are flying a defensive shoot-on-sight perimeter.

That's correct.

See how much quieter things are on the canal.

Explosion, two o'clock.

Got it, Romeo One-Three.

Geiger? If it's a dirty bomb, we're in real trouble.

I tell you what, I could do without a suntan.

(Laughter)

What's the joke?

Lift's broke, pal.

No one likes a smart-ass.

Well, that's the vehicle they were in.

The good news is no radiation.

The bad news is they could've jogged up here,

got into a clean car, caught a train, jumped a bus.

All routes into the city are closed under Contingency November Echo.

All routes?

A question from my team.

Are canals into London being interdicted along with other routes?

It's perfect. Light breeze heading straight into London.

You think we're overreacting, Colonel?

We don't know enough to make that call.

The Mayor wants to make an announcement.

Good idea. People should be told to stay inside.

No chance of a nuclear explosion

but there is a big chance of a dirty or slow bomb.

The way to save lives is for people to stay inside with windows shut.

You don't know if this material will be used today,

tomorrow or in five years' time.

Or if it'll be used in this country.

I'd be delighted to be wrong.

That's why we have the precautionary principle.

Because sometimes looking silly is the best option we have.

Number Ten will make that call.

- Why are you stripping off? - To show we don't care.

Rain, cold, wind, show, no care.

This is Russian kamikaze. You go how, American.

We make phone call. You've been paid...

Now you done.

OK, guys, it's nice working with you.

I won't say au revoir, I guess. Have an nice day.

Hello, I have nuclear material.

I have bomb.

Hey, dog, it's done.

Yeah, the crazies are on the roof.

It's all kicked off. Yeah, I'm out of here.

See you at the RV.

Hey, Yank, who's the smart-arse now, eh?

(Screaming)

English assholes, always talking when you should be fighting.

That's Scottish arsehole!

Arsehole!

Jesus...

Come on...

Come on...

Chortski Rebyata. The devil's children.

AKA Chernobyl's children.

It's an extreme ultranationalist Russian-Ukrainian faction

who believe that all the ills of the ex-Soviet states

stem from the West's actions in and after the Cold War.

They've got a point.

They miss the boundaries of the old Greater Russia.

They want to put Humpty together again.

Long term, yes.

Short term, they want political prisoners released

from Russian and Ukrainian jails,

and other political-prisoner releases from five further countries.

And $100 million.

Exactly.

However, they style themselves as the most dangerous terrorists

because they have looked nuclear catastrophe in the face

and now have nothing to lose.

Then what the hell are they doing on my patch?

They say that in Russia,

there'd be a news blackout and no one would know.

Putin's got things sewn up tight over there.

- They're media-savvy. - They're insane.

And their demands are impossible.

I do hope not.

Given the wind speed and direction,

we may be looking at losing the centre of London for a long time.

How long?

Anyone know the half-life of cobalt 137?

I have a computer simulation of the dispersal cloud,

given the current wind speed and bearing.

Bye-bye, London.

Finn, take the high ground on that adjacent tower block.

Get a scope on the rooftop.

I've just spoken to the local council.

They're biking over a map and all the building schematics they can find.

Good job. The rest of us, kit up, stand ready for an assault. Move now!

(Radio)

Braun.

Should we be worried?

Not yet.

All traffic in London is now gridlocked.

If we're to stand any chance of an evacuation,

the first step is to get it flowing again.

Now we know where the cobalt is, we can surely remove the cordon?

My advice would be to wait until the siege is resolved.

Your advice is noted.

However, we may have a city to evacuate.

OK.

- OK, what? - OK, the plan worked.

Cordon's down. The slow road to London is wide open,

thanks to your crazies on the roof.

(Sirens)

- They want us back. - Hey...

We've got his mobile, sir.

We can trace who he's been calling and put together a profile.

Excellent, I should've thought of that.

Don't tell me, tell Colonel Dempsey. He likes good news.

Romeo One-Three, this is Zero Alpha. What's your status? Over.

Have a good vision on these clowns.

Four of them in a cluster on the roof, wired to a canister on the central aerial.

- Tell me about the canisters. - See for yourself.

I'm sending you gun-cam images.

OK, got ‘em.

There's the bomb. These wires go to each of them.

They appear to be dead-men switches,

so even if I was to take them out with a neck shot,

paralysing them,

the impact of the bullet would knock off the switch and boom!

I hope you have a better plan.

They're sniperproof.

- I'm against evacuation. - Are you serious?

Deadly.

People will be Killed in the panic.

They should stay inside until further notice.

That is how to survive a dirty bomb.

Wait for the dust to settle then methodically evacuate, block by block,

and decontaminate as people leave the area.

- Do we have the resources for that? - Look...

Just because we may be about to say goodbye to London

doesn't mean we lose Londoners.

The last thing we need are people running around

as dust from a detonation lands on them and kills them later with cancer.

(Henno) This is Romeo One, Zero Alpha.

- Go ahead. - We're at the top of the stairs.

We confirm four X-rays.

The door to the roof is booby-trapped.

There is no way we can assault through it.

We do an Iranian embassy siege. Sideways.

- What? - Nothing. It's good.

Clear.

Can I get a translation?

You know when Sabre Squadron made their assault on the Iranian embassy?

They took bricks from the side bores and made their assault through them.

Instead of blowing holes in the side bores,

we're gonna make our assault through the ceiling.

And how are we supposed to be pop up in the right place?

How are we supposed to pop up at all? I'm not Zebedee.

If the Captain's thinking what I'm thinking, that's not the way it'll be.

Exactly. Let the mountain come to Muhammad.

- Dave. - Dave's gonna shape some charges.

Then we'll have them drop in for a little chat. Like it?

Love it.

There you go.

- You're getting an awfully sick mind. - Must be rubbing off. Bad company.

- They're below the terrorists now. - But the risk is appalling.

Stand easy. It's just a contingency plan.

I can assure you, no one will do anything,

not with dead-men switches attached to a dirty bomb.

Zero Alpha, this is Romeo One-Three.

I have a problem with the cobalt container.

- What kind of problem? - It's just struck me.

- The numbers are wrong. - What do you mean, wrong?

- Can you see my scope-cam? - Not right now.

Zero Alpha, this is Sunray. I have your visuals on screen.

See the identifying numbers on the side?

They're different from the ones loaded onto the truck.

What are you? Some kind of Rain Man with long numbers?

No, sir. Seriously, sir.

Those numbers are six prefixes.

The others were seven prefixes.

Trooper Gallagher made a joke about it almost being her phone number.

Sunray, this is Zero Alpha confirming that. Out.

Get me DCI Booth at Bushwell how!

Yes, sir, I'm sure, sir. No doubt at all, sir.

The stolen containers were cobalt,

that is, the canisters were all prefix sevens not sixes.

The prefix six is for caesium and no caesium has been moved all year.

The material stolen today was cobalt.

Cobalt is identified by a seven prefix on the canisters.

- This is a six. - What does that mean?

That means we've been had.

I want to speak to the PM now.

- Why? - I need permission to clear the roof.

Yes, sir, understood. Zero Alpha out.

Right, we're green to go.

We good?

Let's tidy this thing up.

We go in three. On my mark.

Three, two, one.

(Screaming)

This is Romeo One-Three. I have no visual.

Repeat, I have no visual on the X-ray.

Becca.

Jump.

- I think I got him. - She got him.

- You got him. - Did you see that?

- Like a jack-in-a-box. - This troop's turning into a circus.

- Do you have a problem with that? - No.

- I quite like the circus. - Doesn't smell right for Semtex.

- It's Plasticine. - We've been had.

Looks like our Russian friends have been had as well.

But why?

Decoy.

The only reason to decoy was to make us drop our guard.

How do you mean, drop our guard?

I don't know. But I suggest we all now work

on the assumption that there is a dirty bomb...

somewhere in Central London.

(Sirens)

He should've called already.

Worst case, they screwed up. So what?

They provided the distraction.

I can't believe the vans thought they found us.

Screw the Russians. Burton and I served together, OK? He's my dog.

Gunny, the day you went freelance was the day you lost the right

to all Semper Fi bullshit.

So do you want to deep-six it and concentrate?

Shit, they say it's women who let emotions cloud their judgment.

If the Russians are stupid for thinking they hired us,

what does that make me and you?

We don't know who is floating 15 million in the Caymans.

1 got a pretty good idea what they are.

Of course you do. You know everything.

It's not rocket science, genius. It's strictly business.

Who'd want to destroy the largest financial institution in the world

and drop the UK stock market through the floor forever?

So this is about stock price, huh?

Yeah, turning the City of London into a no-go area for a few centuries?

Yeah! Can't think of more than a few hundred thousand financial players

who'd make a Killing if they knew ahead of time.

Financial terrorism?

Just a continuation of capitalism by other means.

Screw it. I can live with that.

I never did like London much, anyway.

The beer is shitty and the women are fine until you see their teeth,

and suddenly the moment kind of passes.

Here. You're gonna have your hands full in a couple of minutes.

You're a ball-breaker, Braun, but you do think of everything.

(Phone)

Hey, dog.

- What? - Line went dead. He'll call back.

Now your dog's still barking, you wanna take care of business?

Yeah.

- Did you hear that, Colonel? - We got him.

Cheltenham are locking on as we speak.

- Catch that American accent? - I'm afraid I bloody did.

"Hey, dog." Sounds US military.

Or some sad wannabe who's seen too many war movies.

Sad or not, gentlemen, you want to be in Central London.

In the City. There's an inbound chopper to give you a lift.

- Brilliant. - Isn't it?

That's where the phone is. We're gonna triangulate closer in

but I'm sending you grid references now.

- Central London? - They're wiring us into his mobile.

Now he's made a call, GCHQ can use it as a tracking beacon.

- They can do that? - Catch up, Louis.

Why do you think the government ties itself in knots

not to use telephone-intercept evidence in court?

They'd have to admit to owning all that useful kit.

The civil-liberties lobby would throw a fit. Here's our lift.

- Good luck. - I make my own luck.

Just take care of your end.

- Oi! Oi! - It's OK.

- Sorry? - He's with me.

- Who are you? - Didn't you get the memo?

- What bloody memo? - This one.

- What's happened? - Heart attack! Call a doctor now!

Louis, you're driving.

Sunray, this is Zero Alpha. We are on site and ground-mobile.

- Do you have a target reference? - Zero Alpha, this is Sunray.

We confirm you're in the right postcode area.

We're working on the street address.

Vector the area, keep your eyes sharp.

OK, we're in business, babe.

(Beeping)

{(Henno) How do you find a needle in a haystack?

(Dave) Use a magnet?

OK, my job's done here. Clear on your end?

Sir, he's using his phone.

Can I help you, love?

Hang on a second.

- Shit! - Trouble?

I just ruined a perfectly good bag.

- Am I clear to come down? - Hold your position.

I don't need to hang around with the timer running.

Relax, it's 30 minutes.

We'll be on the train to the airport by the time it blows.

OK, babe.

Do you know what the guy in the crane cab was doing?

Jerkin' off to a skin mag.

How dumb is that?

As dumb as a guy, I guess.

And don't call me babe.

(Rapid beeping)

(Signal fizzles out)

All call signs, this is Sunray.

We are looking for a crane.

I repeat, a crane.

Henno.

Got it.

Right, Henry, you stay with the bomb. See if you can neutralise it.

- I want a team at the station. - Which station, sir?

We're working out which.

Good news is we've got her mobile number now.

- Good luck, Henno. - Yeah, you too.

Finn, take your position up there.

Dave, on the ground. I'll lower the bomb so you can take a look.

- Henno, I can go up. - You've got broken ribs. I'll be quicker.

How will you find her with the crowds at the station?

All you know is she's a woman with an American accent.

Now we know her phone number,

we disable all the other phones in the cell area around the station.

Soon as my boys are on the train,

we call her and they home in on the ringing phone.

- You can do that? - It's just a computer algorithm.

OK, the controls are trashed.

Oh, shit.

Henno, you're gonna have to walk the crane and rope down to the bomb.

Yeah... And I love heights.

Assholes!

Sorry?

This train's late leaving.

I expect so. Trains have been delayed all day.

There's some bomb scare, or something.

God, this country's Third World.

The train to the airport, which platform?

14.

Louis, get it stopped!

(Inaudible)

OK, good. Mate, you're doing fine.

Yeah, bloody Spider-man.

Now what?

Ugh, Jesus...

(Beeping)

All right, Dave, you'll have to talk me through disabling this thing.

Here's what I can see.

Good man. Stand by.

Call her.

(Phone)

I'm on the train.

- Burton! I said I'm on the train. - Do you mind?

Yes! I mind you!

- This is the quiet coach. - So shut the hell up!

Haley is worrying about you. He's wondering what happened.

I'm afraid it's not Burton.

- Who is this? - Please! Go and talk in the lobby.

Who is this?

Please, put your hands behind your head.

- What? - Put your hands where I can see them.

Now.

Pull that trigger and I pull mine and I cut that old man in half.

Shoot me, the spasm in my hand kills him. Do you want that?

- No. - Good.

Shall I tell you how we're gonna do this?

No, I'm telling you.

1 will shoot you through the neck.

There will be no spasm because you will be paralysed below the neck.

It might not even kill you but it will stop you moving.

Permanently.

Drop the weapon.

Do it.

Now!

Book me, Danno.

Clear.

Trooper, get her out of here.

Move.

How many wires from the power cell to the det plug?

- Just the two. - OK, separate them.

Cut one. Do not bridge the gap with the cutter as you do.

- You don't want to short-circuit. - No... That would not be good.

- Are you OK? - Will you stop nagging?

- Bollocks! - What's happened?

He dropped the cutters. No drama.

Henno, use your Knife.

- I haven't got a knife. - What else have you got?

One minute 33.

No way of cutting the wire.

- I'll bring my Knife. - You haven't got time.

Are you saying it's over?

- Unless... - What?

Clear the channel.

Finn, are you still in position?

No, I wet my pants and ran away.

- Cut the wire with a bullet. - Come on, Henno, he can't.

- That's a hell of a shot. - Well, apparently, so's he.

We have 52 seconds. Do it!

- (Fires) - Miss. Sorry.

You said you never miss.

Stay still.

When you talk, you move.

Talk, talk, talk, and now you're like a bloody...

pendulum.

What happened?

What happened?

Nothing.

- Did he call me a pendulum? - You all right, big man?

No, I'm not all right.

I'm hanging upside down, holding onto a flask of nuclear material.

The way my day's been going,

I don't think we should find out how well it does in a 200-foot drop test.

Now, please. Hurry up and get Spider-man.