Original subtitles

The story of British and Soviet espionage

will be divided into before and after Operation Glass.

Colin Blakefield runs a business smuggling Western goods

behind the Iron Curtain.

Why would you betray our country?

What's wrong?

You shouldn't have come here,

you should have waited for me at the rendezvous.

What, just to blow up a Conservative Party office?

This alone can't be Glass.

Alan's confessed. He's said he's the mole.

-He's said he's Phoenix. -What?

He must have worked out it was me

and when he thought I was about to be exposed,

confessed to save me.

Such loyalty you inspire.

Isn't that what you intended?

How will this affect me?

The plan, I mean, or at least my part in it anyway.

You must disown him. Publicly.

Had he taken another woman to his bed,

you will say you might have forgiven him.

But not this, never this.

What about him? We have to get him out somehow.

They're bringing in specialist interrogators.

Where is he being held?

An MOD safe house in the country.

I can tell you where it is, but we must hurry.

Alan doesn't have our training.

I don't know how long he'll be able to hold out before he tells them the lot.

Then we must intervene.

-Prime Minister. Daddy. -Home Secretary.

He wants me to visit the bomb site.

Says it demonstrates defiance,

but I know he's thinking about the picture on the front page of The Times.

Me, surrounded by rubble.

The headline rather writes itself, don't you think?

The figure in the shadows hankering after your job.

They come with every position of power,

like a piece of ugly furniture.

No doubt you have one, too.

You are supposed to be our night watchman.

Put your house in order.

This operation you've been following, end it.

And then cut the cancer out.

Yes, Prime Minister.

Bobby.

I want you and Wendy to go through Alan's diaries,

his files, his reports, his notes.

Who did he break bread with outside of the Fray?

Who sticks out?

Anyone an MI5 nosey parker has no business meeting.

And what exactly are we doing with Comrade Montag?

The specialists begin their interrogation at 1100 hours.

Now, are we any closer to locating Colin Blakefield?

Well, Sarah's been searching high and low to no avail.

Pound to a penny, he's as dead as the rest of our star witnesses.

Then drain the bloody Thames if you have to,

but I want him found.

Jim, Colin operates in a world

more familiar to the police than us spooks.

Perhaps you'll have better luck smoking him out.

Daddy...

Sarah, my love, you can't be here.

I can't be at home, they're...

They have to search the house.

All my things.

So, I thought I'd pop in, see if there was anything I could do.

Let's have a cup of tea.

Might pop in a wee dram too, hey?

It must be 6:00 somewhere in the world.

There's something I want...

I am not my husband!

It's important to me that you know that.

That you all know that.

I am not my husband.

Joe, might I have a quick word?

I suppose it's academic now,

but I've been searching for all recorded conversations

with references to Phoenix, and all I could find was this one

between an unknown man and an embassy typist,

timed at 22:27, 11th of May 1971.

The man is calling from a club in Baker Street.

It's clear from the tape he's sloshed,

which would explain why he's discussing such sensitive issues.

It says "jump" here.

Yes, you see, I think Mr Montag may have beaten us to it,

because when I listened to the recording,

I couldn't find any reference to Phoenix after all.

At first I assumed it had been filed incorrectly,

but when I listened again,

I noticed tiny jumps in the background music.

Alan must have heard his name,

cut it out and re-recorded the edited version onto a new tape.

Thanks, Wendy.

Cheers.

I'm looking for Colin Blakefield.

I hear he sometimes uses the back rooms here for business meetings.

I don't know who that is.

No, course you don't.

You know that bomb that went off yesterday.

Colin provided some materials for it.

The press are saying that it was IRA, but it wasn't.

And the funny thing about the IRA

is that they don't like people taking their name in vain.

So, if you do happen to meet someone called Colin Blakefield,

tell him that some Irish blokes are looking for him

and he should come and talk to me.

'Cause I'll give him a cup of tea and a cigarette

and they'll drill holes in his kneecaps.

Do I look like your messenger?

It took me 15 minutes to find out that you were one of Colin's contacts

and for 10 of those minutes

I was on the khazi reading the newspaper.

I'm saying those same boys could walk in this room right now.

But if they knew Colin was in custody,

they'd have no reason to come looking for him, would they?

He should ask for DC James Fenchurch.

Any police station will do.

We're like Woolworths,

we've got branches everywhere.

Right. Hello.

What are you doing?

Tie this up in ceiling.

What?

Shouldn't we just... I mean, the longer you're here.

Tie this up in the ceiling.

Then tie it into a noose.

Do this now.

Does Sarah know this is happening?

No.

Nyet.

Ah!

What's going on down here?

Oh, Bobby. Colin Blakefield...

No joy? Well, I can't say I'm surprised.

Let me go and see if I...

No, he just handed himself in at Paddington Green Police Station, asking for me.

I just thought one of you might want to be there when I question him.

Now, another man is going to join us

and he's going to sit in that chair behind you

and you're not going to look at him, all right?

That should give you an idea of where he's from.

Which should also give you an idea

of just how deep a barrel of shit you are in.

Yeah.

Hmm.

Look at me, Colin, look at me.

You seem to have changed your modus operandi, Colin,

from ferrying denims and perfumes to Moscow, to vapourising taxpayers.

Was it something we said?

No, I didn't know they were going to hurt people.

No, they said it was just to damage property.

And who is "they"?

Right, you can go.

What?

Yeah, well, you're not going to help us, you might as well go.

What about the IRA?

Yeah, you should watch out for them. Come on.

All right, all right, just...

Put me in a cell or something after, okay?

Make it look good.

Talk.

-Okay. -Talk!

All right.

A while back, I was approached by some bloke.

He obviously knew I sometimes do business for you,

because he wanted me to set up a meeting

with my contact at MI5

and say I'd heard about some big KGB thing that was going to happen.

And who was this man?

-I don't know.

I'd never met him before.

All right?

Russian. Short, but scary.

Gave me the creeps.

Anyway, the message was,

something big is about to happen.

I was to say I'd heard it from one of my customers.

And then you switched sides and started working for the comrades.

-Switch... -Look at me!

I didn't tell them anything.

I'd never do that.

It was a business transaction, that's all.

What was?

The detonator?

Colin, do you know the nursery rhyme Ten Little Indians?

Well, you are the last little Indian.

The KGB have eliminated everyone

with even the haziest connection to their plan.

So trust me when I say the IRA are the least of your problems.

Was... The detonator... Next?

No.

No, then it was the passport.

What passport?

They needed a passport for one of their men.

All I did was source the forger.

Who was the passport for?

I don't know. One of your lot.

Our lot? A policeman?

His lot.

They gave me his file.

Obviously, the name on the passport

was gonna be made up.

But the forger needed the file for the photo, for the details.

And we had to work quickly, all right,

it was the real file, okay?

It couldn't be out of the building for more than an hour.

Who was the passport for, Colin?

What was the name of their man?

The name on the file was Joe Lambe.

Christ, would anyone who isn't a Soviet agent

please raise their hand?

Okay, we should just hold off on the accusations.

I can see that this is,

you know, compelling,

but he deserves a fair hearing.

No, it isn't just this.

There have been other irregularities.

Things I have overlooked and forgiven.

Well, no more!

Jim, get me Joe Lambe.

Send a team to pick him up at his flat.

Then talk to his friends, his father,

his agents, leave no one out.

I want him brought here and questioned

and if he proves to be Red,

I want his heart, on a platter, on my desk.

Joe told me his father was dead.

Then he lied to you, too.

And now he's disappeared?

He must have intuited we were coming for him.

You knew Joe better than most.

Was there anything in his behaviour,

anything that he said to you,

that might have given us a clue?

Oh, this may sound strange.

I always felt he would engage with our operations

but never the philosophy behind them.

-He was not a patriot. -He was not a patriot.

And as fusty as that sounds,

we must believe in the country we are fighting for.

It was as if Joe were running from something,

and he would bury himself in work as a means of escape.

We all knew he could be unpredictable,

distant, stubborn.

But we tolerated it

because it was precisely this dysfunction that made him a bloody good spy.

And thus ended my career.

Sarah, Joe must have told Moscow

where Alan was being held

because yesterday evening, two KGB hoods

stole into the cottage and tried to kill him.

But this, erm, this hangs a question mark over any allegiance, surely?

He must know something about Glass,

else they wouldn't have tried to kill him.

Anyway, the specialists return tomorrow.

One more push should do it.

Can I speak to him?

I know it's not protocol but it may do some good.

Carrot before the stick and all that.

Take Bobby with you.

We use Joe as planned.

MI5 already think he's a traitor.

But how do we reach him now?

How do we get him into position?

Already done it.

We have a signal,

it's not included in our tradecraft notes, it's just between us.

Surely he will think it's a trap.

Not necessarily. He trusts me.

What about us, Sarah?

Should we trust you any more?

Your paper husband has discovered your identity

and our principal player is being hunted by the police.

I'm sorry, is this a discussion about professionalism?

When I told you where Alan was,

it was so you could get him out of there,

not so you could kill him.

I said you should distance yourself from him.

What greater distance could there be?

Then you tell me!

It didn't work anyway.

Do not send boys to do a man's job.

Well, they've doubled the guard, so you'll never get in now.

Anyway, I'm seeing him tomorrow.

What are you going to do?

Give him a cover story. Something to offer the interrogators.

He only needs to hold on for another day or so,

by which time they'll have other things to worry about.

And if that fails?

Do whatever is necessary, Sarah.

We have come too far to fail now.

-Mmm-hmm?

I was looking through Alan's assignments,

trying to find persons of interest and well,

strictly speaking, this isn't somebody unconnected to the Fray,

but it's jolly queer nonetheless.

Um, in 1968, an officer was going undercover in the National Front.

They were putting together his legend and, as you know,

officers sometimes use the names of children who have passed away.

In this case, a child who died of tuberculosis in 1922.

But, that identity had already been taken.

Well someone at 6 or Special Branch

was using it for one of their missions. Happens all the time.

But I double-checked with their registries and no one they knew of

had used or was using that identity.

So I dug a little deeper

and he doesn't show up in the 1931 census and he doesn't have a war record.

In fact, well I couldn't find anything until somebody

of that identity joins the police force in 1947.

Someone is working for the police, using a false identity.

What did you say that name was?

Um, Duncan Mercer.

Duncan Mercer is the Deputy Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police.

Well, maybe it isn't what it seems,

maybe he's really working for us and it's just a super-secret mission.

Dig out the membership of the, er, Workers Revolutionary Party,

the Socialist Labour League,

see if any of their unwashed brethren

fall off the map around the time Mercer appears.

"Unwashed..."

Happy there's no one else here.

Thank you.

What's going on, Sarah?

DC Jim managed to track down Colin Blakefield.

Moscow had asked him to source a fake passport...

For you.

I don't know anything about that. Nothing at all, I swear.

Okay.

It isn't me, Sarah.

-They're framing me for something... -Yeah, I can join the dots.

If it isn't you, it's, it's more likely Alan is involved after all.

Will you speak to Daddy?

Will you tell him it's a trick?

He'll listen to you.

To be honest, until I saw you just now

I wasn't sure you were innocent myself.

Even if I do talk to him,

I'm not sure it'll do any good, he's...

It hit him really hard. He adored you, Joe.

Then I'll turn myself in. I'll talk to him, I'll explain...

No, wait, you listen to me.

We were getting precisely nowhere with Glass.

Moscow have been a move ahead from day one.

But now we have an advantage,

now we know that somehow, you are integral to the whole thing.

What are you saying I should do?

If you want to find Odin

you need to keep Glass active,

and the way to do that is stay free.

Otherwise, Moscow might abandon the whole thing

and start again in a few months.

Except then we won't have an in like Arkady.

No, Moscow need you,

let the KGB come to you.

Yes?

Oh, hi, love. Sorry to bother you.

DC James Fenchurch.

I'm looking for Dennis Lambe?

Yeah, he lives here, what is it?

Can I have a quick word with him?

That's not really possible, darlin'.

He's upstairs, but he ain't exactly chatty, you know.

Oh, I see. Well, maybe you can help me.

We're looking for his son, Joe.

Has he, er, had any contact with Mr Lambe?

I've only been here half an hour.

I feed him, clean him and then I've got to go to my next patient.

All right. Well, if anyone comes round to talk,

call the police, all right?

What? Him dangerous, this fella?

Oh no, no, no, no, it's just, erm,

well, we just really want to talk to him.

-All right, I'll let you know. -Okay.

Thanks, love. Take care.

What are you scared of, Dad?

It's just a game.

That's what you used to say.

It's just a game. We're just playing a game.

Don't tell anyone.

It's our secret.

Don't tell anyone or I'll come back tonight.

You know, I've thought about this every day.

What do you think I should do?

What is it? Cancer?

Well, it looks like we're both on our way out.

Nearly done, Mr Lambe! Do it.

What?

Please...

Look at me...

It's what you want.

No.

Live.

We all have to.

Joe.

You said your dad was dead.

Jim, don't do this, please.

Come on. Let's keep it tidy.

I'm being framed. Think about it.

I don't care.

-You don't care? -It's not my responsibility.

You're wanted for questioning. Plead your case to the next fella.

Now, listen.

I can solve Operation Glass by myself.

Odin's the key. They're framing me.

And when he comes for me, I'll catch him.

And I'll kill him.

But you have to let me go first.

-I can't do that. -You can.

You really can.

Christ, it's all so bloody optional to you.

There has to be a rule of law, Joe.

We don't get to choose which ones we stick to.

You are wanted for questioning and I'm taking you in.

For what it's worth, I don't believe you're guilty.

Shit, Jim, why did you have to make me do this?

Joe, I really don't think even you would do that.

And that? I'm sorry.

But I can stop Operation Glass.

Please trust me.

I've got him.

Er, Terence Clark.

Fully paid-up member of the Revolutionary Cooperative

and Socialist Workers Alliance.

Various arrests for vandalism and causing affray,

before suddenly disappearing in 1947.

No death certificate, he hadn't emigrated,

he just vanishes into thin air,

at the same time as Duncan Mercer joins the police force.

"When sorrows come, they come not single spies but in battalions."

Arkady and Mallory talked about a network.

We need to dig deeper.

Imagine what Moscow's Christmas list would be.

Look for men in positions of subtle but strategic power,

but with colossal gaps in their work history.

Chop, chop, Wendy! The game is afoot!

Actually, er, no.

Er, sorry.

Er, two ticks, erm...

We, erm...

...should also consider how we present this to Daddy.

How we present it?

But surely we just show him what we've found.

Wendy, this is such stuff as careers are made on.

We box clever,

it'll be honey for tea for us both from here on in.

We are defending the nation.

That is a privilege,

not a means to accelerate one's career.

Show Daddy the file,

say you sourced all the information,

take all the glory for yourself, I really don't care.

I have done my duty.

That is reward enough for me.

Jesus! Joe!

What the hell are you doing here?

I told you, no more contact.

Just because your career is in free-fall,

you're not gonna take me with you.

After we discovered the code name for the mole,

I asked Wendy to search for any reference

she could find with the word, "Phoenix".

Did anyone see you come in here?

I cannot believe you've done this,

I can't believe you'd be so selfish.

There was only one, Alan must've got to it first,

because some of the words had been taken out.

He was probably taking out all mention of his name...

Anyway, I am not having this conversation in my bloody nightie.

But even taking into account the translation,

what the guy said doesn't make sense,

no one talks like that.

Alan had also taken out all the pronouns.

All the "he's".

What's incriminating about that, hmm?

Nothing.

'Cause what he'd cut out was every use of the word "she".

My God...

You're serious.

You actually believe this, don't you?

Who else knew where to send Odin to kill Arkady?

Who else would Alan sacrifice himself for?

I've had enough of this.

Get out!

I'm gonna call Daddy.

I'm gonna show him the transcript.

-I'm gonna tell him about Alan.

Let's see what he has to say about it all.

No one will believe you, but fine, go ahead.

-It's ringing.

You'll get arrested.

Our one chance to expose Glass and you're blowing it.

You'll never find Odin now.

We've got Yulia.

She didn't die.

But turn me in now, you'll never see her.

Now hang up.

Hang up!

I don't believe you.

And your instincts about me have been really accurate so far.

Where is she?

She's safe.

We don't want to kill her

and we don't want to kill you.

Be at this address tomorrow, 3:00.

But you tell anyone, you bring anyone with you...

They'll kill you both.

It's a trap.

I suppose there's only one way to find out.

Duncan Mercer...

Deputy Assistant Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police.

Reginald Pelham, the Solicitor General.

Meredith Hill, assistant to the keeper of the Privy Purse.

Harry Cope, executive officer of the Department of Ordnance Survey.

Charles Wenby, Comptroller General

of the Department for the Reduction of the National Debt.

Every one of them appearing out of a clear blue sky, aged 20 or so,

just as some Red falls off the radar.

These men, where they are placed,

they can influence Britain's attitude to the USSR,

pave the way for an invasion,

fan the flames of unrest.

How did this happen?

How could we have missed this?

They thought big, Daddy.

They hid their agents in plain sight.

We would never have done that. We'd have thought it too vulgar.

This is it.

This is their blasted constellation.

We've landed a blow at last.

Extraordinary work, Bobby.

Absolutely extraordinary.

I shall brief the Home Secretary

and make sure he knows about all you've achieved today.

Wendy, call his office, tell them I'm on my way.

Look, erm, no need to bother the Home Secretary with the who-said-what.

Just, er, doing our bit for Queen and Country.

Can't put a price on that.

What?

Oh, fine, fine, fine.

Don't gloat, it's most unbecoming.

I know I should have tried to interrogate him,

or even apprehend him,

but I was on my own and frankly I just wanted him out of the house.

No, of course, you poor thing.

I'm bringing this to you because...

Well, we both know Daddy's days are numbered

and it's time we started thinking of a world after him.

Indeed...

Look, I know it's not strictly...

Could I have 10 minutes alone with Alan?

The specialists have drawn a blank.

I might be able to get something out of him.

The minister will see you now.

How did you find out?

After I found your pills, I followed you.

See, I thought you were meeting a lover,

but you were going to a dead-letter drop.

The message itself wasn't especially...

Just an update for your Moscow handler.

But it told me everything I needed to know.

Who you are.

Do you know what I felt?

Relief.

My wife was a mole.

She was undermining everything we stood for,

but she hadn't betrayed me.

Do you love me?

Because I love you,

you see, as much now as the day we married.

Not at first, no. I needed a husband to add authenticity.

And I was the lucky chap.

Low-level infiltrations, I mean, are to be expected.

Someone from British Aerospace here,

a trade delegate there, but these...

These people are...

Are pillars of society!

I know them!

There is nothing about them to suggest that they're traitors.

Nothing at all!

In a way, that's what worries me the most.

They are all conscientious, hard-working and respectable citizens.

-So what have they been doing? -Waiting.

We thought Operation Glass started a few months ago.

I now think it started as early as the end of World War II.

Soviet agents were planted and left to take root.

The endgame wouldn't commence for decades.

But, here's something curious.

It's not only positions of influence they have in common.

Every one of them was appointed,

recommended

or promoted...

By you.

Prime Minister, it's time.

Tonight, you'll be interrogated again.

I'm going to tell you what to say.

We're going to shift the blame onto Joe.

I won't do that.

The silent treatment won't work with them.

They'll keep on at you until you tell them everything.

But the KGB won't let that happen,

they'll get to you somehow, they will kill you, somehow.

Well, unless you've got someone secreted in your handbag,

right now you are the KGB.

Minister...

Dispatch have just called.

-He's on the move. -What?

You said to tell you when the Prime Minister was on his way to the site.

Oh. Yes, thank you.

The bomb site?

The bomb site.

You were lobbying for the Prime Minister to visit the site.

Oh, my God, how tragic.

The lion of espionage reduced to this.

You send a bomber.

A few days later you send the Prime Minister. Why?

Losing your little whore from the orient

has clearly sent you off the deep end, old bean.

You're going to kill him, aren't you?

But it has to look like suicide, doesn't it?

Alan, please...

I don't have a gun or a knife

and even with my asthma

I'm pretty sure I could stop you from trying to hang me again.

So how are you going to do it?

I've carried this everywhere with me, for nearly ten years.

It was intended for me, in case I was ever exposed.

What were you going to do?

Slip it in my cocoa when I wasn't looking?

Well, I'll save you the bother.

There are two endings to this.

You confess or...

Well...

But I don't think you came here to kill me.

I've heard enough of this. Get out.

It's a coup.

I shall speak to the Prime Minister about this.

-A silent coup! -I said get out.

Alan, please. Bobby will be here in a moment.

We have to get our stories straight.

Do this, implicate Joe and you can come home!

No. Not like this.

We can start again.

I don't want to start again.

Not with you.

Not with this traitor.

The Prime Minister dies.

Heads roll. Including mine.

And everyone else,

all those agents, shift up a place.

Including you,

Mr Deputy Prime Minister.

I want my Sarah back.

She was a fiction. I'm sorry!

Well, let's just put that to the test, shall we.

-Bottoms up. -No!

My God!

That's it.

That's Operation Glass!

Welcome to the end of our story.

You don't have to do a thing.

Leave it all to us.

And ten minutes from now, when our work is complete,

you and Yulia can go.

What are you going to do?

Forgive me for being vulgar, Joe,

but we are going to blow your Prime Minister's brains out.

What happens to us?

There is a car downstairs.

There are passports and visas and tickets.

Everything you need.

It's a setup,

I'll be blamed.

It will be the end of Joe Lambe, yes.

Which reminds me...

That's it.

What is that advertisement?

"Let your fingers do the walking"?

Don't look so downcast, Joe.

Finally you will be free!

One gunshot.

A twitch of the finger.

That's all.

And you will step from the chains, like Houdini.

Get everybody back!

Get back now.

Move them back!

What have you done?

-Take the shot. -What?

Take... The... Shot!

You heard the man, take the bloody shot!

Put the gun down.

I'm all right.

Sniper down, Odin's injured, he's fled.

I'll pursue.

I have to find him.

No, no, please...

-I have to. -He'll kill you.

-I have to. -Please.

I have to.

Go! Go! Go.

We're here again, Joe.

How will you repay me for that year of torment, huh?

For David Hexton?

For Tom Mallory?

You're more use alive.

I'm sorry, Joe.

The game is over.

But my secrets are my secrets.

I must tell you something.

Yulia...

...was working for us all along.

Takes a whore to catch a whore.

-That's not true. -Hmm.

But how can you be sure?

Huh?

Doubt...

...it will kill you as sure as any bullet.

Bang.

I win.

How's Alan?

Will I ever get to see him again?

No visits. No cell mates. No parole.

Then, you knew that was the price you were going to have to pay.

Was it worth it?

I confessed to save Alan. I've given them nothing else.

It wasn't a Damascene conversion, Joe.

The establishment is rotten.

Democracy is a confidence trick.

Now others will take up the fight.

So what happened?

Last time I saw you, you were on the run.

Well, I walked into a KGB trap once before.

I wasn't about to make the same mistake.

Were we ever friends?

My cover,

the loyal MI5 officer, the loving wife,

the only way I could sustain that

was to live it,

to believe it.

When I looked at you, I saw my friend.

When I looked at Alan, I saw my husband.

I thought of it as working for the Resistance in an occupied country.

When the world turns Red, you'll be hailed as a hero.

Oh, I doubt that. I had a job and I failed.

Because I was weak.

Yulia...

Can I trust her?

Can you trust an answer from me?

It has hit us all,

but few more than you I'm sure.

I know Sarah was your...

Well, that you thought the world of her.

But I confess I was surprised to see Alan welcomed back,

having shared a bed with one of the biggest moles in 5's history,

some might consider him something of a security risk.

"The righteousness of the righteous

"will be upon himself.

"And the wickedness of the wicked

"will be upon himself."

Or, indeed, herself.

Besides, had I an army of men

with Alan Montag's loyalty and mettle,

I could end this war in a fortnight.

Well, if it's any consolation,

I'm not a Soviet spy.

I'm not going anywhere.

No.

You're not, are you?

We'll get your son to the coast,

take him across the Black Sea to Turkey,

you'll be reunited there.

Then you'll fly via New York to Toronto.

And then you'll join us?

You said a month.

Yeah...

I just have a few things I need to do first.

The year that we were apart, where were you?

-I've told you. -I know.

I just need you to tell me again.

In hospital.

Then, a prison camp.

Then I was moved around a lot.

Joe, I spent the last year being pushed down corridors

with a gun at my head.

But at the end, they said I would have you.

And now I do.

You know, I dreamt about this,

you being alive and me finding you again.

You are back, aren't you?

Yes.

Sometimes everything is what it seems.

The year we were apart,

where were you?

Oh, Joe.

What have they done?