Original subtitles

In an unexpected change, our agenda now reads:

One, Russia. Two, Russia. Three-- Julian?

Russia?

Russia.

Welcome to our modest monstrosity.

The indispensable Cecilia Dennison.

Turns out she's the sister, not the wife.

His wife died a couple of years ago.

You should tap that.

Do you understand what we're talking about?

Accusing Russia of attacking a British warship.

Tomorrow, with the U.S. secretary of state.

Trowbridge wants to reenact the Siege of Leningrad.

Sounds bad.

What the fuck is this?

You're the wife?

You're so goddamn docile I'd be psychotic to let you go?

Yeah.

A month into the Ukraine war,

we'd already crawled all the way up the diplomatic ladder.

There are no moves left.

It sounds like you wanna bomb something. I have a list of Russian targets.

Why don't you pick one, and we'll blow something up?

I would have preferred a warning.

Before she suggested we lob explosives?

I think we all would.

Tell him the prime minister will need

the royal prerogative for military force.

Tell who?

Tell him that buys us a day more if he pushes for parliamentary approval.

Good evening.

Office of the foreign secretary for the defense secretary.

The defense secretary?

- I'm afraid it is urgent. - You're bringing him here?

You've got us targeting Russian assets for air strikes,

a move they've plainly stated may result in a nuclear reply.

- It's odd he's not here already. - We do not need your defense secretary.

We're not bombing anything.

I gave him what he wanted so he could stop wanting it so badly.

No, you've made it acceptable for him to want it.

And to say America approves.

I need my defense secretary here because, thanks to you,

I no longer hold sway over the prime minister.

I'm sorry, that happened long before I opened my mouth.

He's a big boy. He dropped the ball. You picked it up.

I made him look like an idiot. It was a dick move.

Was it the wrong dick move?

- I lack experience. - No, you don't.

I lack experience in this role, and I panicked and did what you would do

because it's the first thing that popped in my head.

You called DoD, you got a target list. It's not a panic move.

It was a premeditated dick move.

It was effective.

Making your ally look like a fuckwad in front of his boss

is not the only way out.

Is it the first thing you tried?

It was like the 80th.

What if it doesn't work?

I told him to bomb Russia.

You have a plan.

This was a move. It's not the final destination.

I'm gonna puke.

Do we have more of this?

Did you eat anything?

No.

Come on.

Up.

- Come on. - I just need, like, a yogurt.

I'm not getting you a fucking yogurt.

- Okay. - Fuck, look at that tart.

Is it cheese? No, no. Get one that's already started.

- This one's started. - Unbelievable.

Mm!

- Oh, my God. - Right?

Fuck. I'll grab some cheese.

Get some of that spinach stuff too.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. Did you get it?

You know the wine cellars in this house are older than your nation?

I didn't.

Bottled history. Some is rancid, of course, hence the reinforcements.

Sir, we'll get out of your way.

I can't drink all three alone. I'd look like a fucking alcoholic.

Make yourself useful and bring the stemware.

Would you like us to find someone from your staff?

My staff? Every one of them, the constitution of a Brontë sister.

It's their sworn duty to advise me,

but the only one with the mettle to discuss military options

is an American female.

I think they're just trying to protect you.

The Kremlin won't recognize anything but brute force, we all know that.

The only question is what form it'll take.

Your staff won't give you military options

because they can't trust you not to use them.

They don't trust me?

Thick with irony.

You don't trust them?

It takes a team of mad geniuses

to hoist one man to the top of the greasy pole.

And once you're in office, it's best to sack them before they burn the place down.

Then you're stuck in a sea of angry geese

who spent all of recent memory trying to destroy you.

Austin Dennison has so thoroughly colonized the moral high ground,

I couldn't set foot there if I wanted to.

Do you want to?

No, Mrs. Wyler. No, I'm a bad man.

I chose this path because I adore raw power

and I crave dank lodgings in Central London.

One year passed between the German invasion of Poland

and the start of the London Blitz.

My country does not see the destruction of Ukraine

as a heartrending regional conflict.

It will come here.

We need not imagine it. We remember it.

- Come on then. Back at me. - You're a debater.

- You can play both sides. - That's cruel.

It's fun to watch.

"A dustup with Russia is a puerile fantasy.

Stop acting like a child, Nicol, they'll stop treating you like one."

I don't think it's childish. It's pragmatic. Look at every real option.

If you have a good one on the table, you won't choose the bad one.

I'm not afraid to admit the bad one exists.

She's got a good idea.

She's going to turn it all around.

She is.

Don't play chicken with a country that's ready to lob a tactical nuke.

Try everything,

everything before that.

Well, I'm on the edge of my seat.

Your city is a 24-hour laundromat for dirty rubles.

You have all their money. Take it.

I should try Bruce. He's probably still at the office.

Yeah, it's still early there.

- Andy. - Yeah.

- Craig. - Yup.

I'm not calling Dean. I'll never get off the phone.

You call him.

And wake up Stuart. We're gonna need more hands.

What are you doing?

Wives don't make calls, wives make drinks.

You've had enough of those, so I made you water.

I was not that wife. Not ever. I was your partner.

You can pinch hit for one night.

I don't want one night.

I wanna be your partner.

For life.

You can't.

If you give me a shot, I will.

Constitutionally, Hal, you can't.

You'll want to and you will fail.

Fuck you. I gave you 15 years of my life. Give me a chance.

- So you can go to the White House? - Katherine.

So you're back-seat driving the vice president?

So I'm married to you.

- You got a minute? - Should I put on pants?

I have a list of things Kate would like you to take a look at.

Cool. What's going on?

Trowbridge is giving her a chance to come up with something bloodless,

- and it's gonna take some doing. - Okay.

She's got a 200-point plan she needs to execute by morning.

So all hands on deck.

Oh. I thought she was ready to call in the Air Force.

That was a tactic, this is the strategy.

It's a tactic she should run by her staff and her opposite number.

- That cowboy thing isn't gonna fly here. - I think it just did.

You know what--?

I'd say talk to Kate about what it's like to be DCM to an unpredictable ambassador,

but she's busy.

She's so busy, in fact, she'd really appreciate it

if you'd jump off your high horse and make a couple of calls.

I'm gonna say yes on the pants.

I need to apologize.

Perhaps in the morning.

No, I need to-- Can I come in? Sorry.

Um...

So listen. I threw you under the bus, but I think it worked.

- I'm relieved. - You gotta fucking get over it.

We're a great team.

You may not see that right now, but I do. We are great together.

Shit.

I had a lot of wine, and it was, um... old.

- Are you--? - I'm trying to say something, so let me.

I don't know how you're gonna take it and I don't wanna make you uncomfortable.

- You don't have to-- - What I'm trying to say is, I need you.

I know. I feel it too. I can't think when you're in the same room.

I can barely breathe. But I don't think this is something that we can act on.

Oh, no. Sorry, not that.

- I'm so sorry. - No.

- I'm so sorry. I'm an idiot. I'm-- - No, I'm an idiot.

- No, you're definitely not an idiot. - You should go.

Please.

I was trying to say that I was in the kitchen with Trowbridge,

and now I need you to call the Australian foreign minister.

I don't metabolize red wine really well.

You were picnicking in the moonlight with the prime minister?

- It wasn't planned. - Did you knock on his door too?

Of course I didn't. Jesus.

Get yourself together. We have work to do.

Shit.

Yeah, I know it's late, and she feels terrible about it,

but do you think that you could--? Yeah, they're in there.

Yeah. Sorry. Do you think you could wake him up anyway?

I've got it here. Go ahead.

- Hi. - Sorry.

The ambassador wanted help with a very complicated plan.

Yeah. Come in.

- I've got Anu setting up-- - No, we're all in here.

- Yeah. Can you? - I gotta head back into town.

This late? What's up?

I can't get a straight answer on the intelligence.

- Ronnie, please call me if anything... - Yeah.

Sir.

I'm still here. It can't really wait.

- Knock, knock. - Yes, the work's happening here.

- Can I be of assistance? - Who else do we have?

- Yup. - Okay, I see.

I thought we said no surprises.

What the fuck?

- I feel like I was clear about it. - I was trying not to wake you.

- That's a gun. - Yeah.

With a silencer.

It's what I had.

- Are you hungry? - I'm not hungry.

I just stared down the business end of a Glock, my adrenaline's hiked.

It's not a Glock.

- How much do I give a shit? - I'm gonna make you an omelet.

I don't want an omelet.

I can put mushrooms on it. I got those little ones you like.

I don't want an omelet.

I wanna know if the Kremlin ordered the strike on the aircraft carrier

or if it came from farther down the chain.

You and me both.

When I find out, you will be the first to know.

You will be the eighth to know.

We are trying to stop the PM from launching an air strike,

and we have a tiny window to sell him a diplomatic package,

so sooner would be better than later.

Oh, now that I know it's important, I'll look harder.

Up until now, I was looking medium.

Okay.

There's been Russian dark target movement off the British coast.

Submarines.

Russian submarines?

Which means they may know we know it was them.

I'm invested in the success of your diplomatic solution.

Let's talk about it.

Let's put it on the table and see--

I'd like them to go now.

I fly to Novosibirsk,

I find a bricklayer,

I ask him, "You wanna marry an American?"

The bricklayer says, "No, I like only Chechen milkmaids."

No, Don, you're the bricklayer.

Yeah. No, I think this works out for you.

That's fine. Call them now, I'll wait.

We did it.

- Confirmed? - Yeah, we got it.

That's incredible.

Right?

- Oh, my God. - We did it.

I can't believe it either.

The notes. For when you pitch it.

I'm not pitching this. I can't even read it.

It can't be me.

Why not?

British plan, British pitch.

Then the defense secretary will pitch it.

He won't be here until the secretary of state is.

I can't sell it to Ganon unless Trowbridge is already on board.

You didn't wanna tell me that last night?

No.

Stop.

Come on. I mean it.

- You do. - No, come on.

- I am underwhelmed by your team spirit. - Shit! Fuck!

- Oh. Uh, are you all right? - Shit.

- What--? - Ow.

What hurts?

- That! - Okay.

All right, we'll stay here.

Let me-- Let me see.

- Ah? - Ow.

Hmm. Is it, um...

- right there? - Yeah.

What do you think I did?

I think you hurt it.

You have no idea.

- You have no idea what I did. - I don't. I don't.

But look how it calmed you.

We'll get a professional.

Get me some ice,

and pitch the fucking package.

I am wounded!

And I don't like speaking in front of a lot of people.

Did you hurl yourself down a staircase

in order to get out of a three-minute oral presentation?

No.

Well, it's just something my sister would do.

I am not your sister.

At this point, that much ought to be clear.

From 10,000 feet,

the notion is to place sufficient financial pressure

on key personnel to generate fissures within the Kremlin.

Is that salt or pepper?

Salt.

Splendid.

Uh, by freezing the assets of a handful of Russian individuals in the City of London

and Crown Dependencies.

I get the idea. I don't love it.

I think, in this case, God is in the details.

We need to bomb something that smells like herring.

I'm thinking Russian troops in the Aleppo-Raqqa-Hamo triangle.

No, we figured it out. It's exactly what you agreed to last night.

Oh, darling,

any argument that includes the sentence, "It's what you agreed to last night..."

The Russian people can't afford toothpaste,

yet none of our sanctions touch the Kremlin's money,

which, ironically, is all in London. We found a path.

Is there no way to quiet you?

When's Ganon arrive?

Half-three.

I'm staying. Get on to this triangle business.

I want you saying something coherent when he arrives.

Could be a break.

- I don't have time for that. - I'd like to do some imaging.

Are you familiar with the Aleppo-Raqqa-Hama triangle?

- Pardon? - It's a geographic location.

- I'll take your word for it. - Could you point it out on a map?

- I'm afraid not. - It's in Syria.

Maybe get us a splint?

- I'll see what I've got in the car. - Thank you.

People do not know about the Aleppo-Raqqa-Hama triangle.

Trowbridge isn't people.

He's the prime minister of a well-regarded nation-state.

He called it "Hamo." Not Hama.

- You called me Jake once. - "Hamo."

Are you upset he got it wrong or that he wants to bomb it?

It's like he was parroting someone. He must have talked to someone last night.

Maybe the defense secretary? Is he a Russia hawk? Where are you going?

- Wanna check out the garden? - No.

I want you to.

Hal, for fuck's sake, if this is you back to being the trailing spouse

with some well-meaning bid to get me some air...

You know when I swore to you that all I did was just be a good wife

- and I never heard anything of substance? - Yeah.

I lied.

Tell Kate why he's here. The prime minister.

Tell her about Maggie.

Ugh. Margaret Roylin.

I tried to introduce you at the memorial.

She's Trowbridge's former advisor.

Nicol can't resist her cardigans and compression socks.

- You know about her name? - She told me to call her Meg.

She does that.

Tried to convince everyone she wasn't a new Maggie, running things at Number 10,

it's what they all said.

Made Nicol livid.

She had to be sacked.

She thinks he still talks to her.

She's got a charming place just down the way.

- From here? - Mm-hm.

Making this place, and you, a perfect beard for a meeting with Roylin.

I have to tell Dennison.

My brother's well aware.

What--? Then why hasn't he said anything?

It must be so hard to be so spirited and yet so ill-informed.

You know every multilateral treaty by clause,

and yet you don't know what the Daily Mail said about my brother.

What did the Daily Mail say?

Nonsense, really, but Roylin and her friends at the Mail are the reason

why Nicol Trowbridge is prime minister and not Austin Dennison.

He seems to think if he simply ignores her, she'll vanish.

Russia is in Syria fighting ISIS,

to attack Russia in Syria is to provoke Russia while aiding ISIS.

In case that's of any concern.

I mean, it is, but--

I think it is.

Why am I hearing from your sister and not you

that Margaret Roylin has a fucking "charming place just down the way"?

A direct hit on Russian soldiers in the Aleppo-Raqqa-Hama triangle?

He's talking to Roylin.

I've limited her sway.

You haven't. We need to talk to her.

- Absolutely not. - She is the person we're negotiating with.

- Talking to her gives her credibility. - I'll do it.

No, you won't.

I will handle Trowbridge without Margaret Roylin.

And ideally, if you would be so kind, without you.

We had a good working relationship,

and now you're embarrassed about what happened last night,

so you're trying to blow it up.

- I don't-- - You're not crazy.

My marriage is ending,

and it hasn't escaped me that you are an incredibly...

attractive, intelligent, compassionate...

man.

It's something I spend a lot of time thinking about.

But at the moment, we have bigger fish to fry.

Don't speak to Margaret Roylin.

Do it.

You sure?

Well, you can't keep it, of course. The papers would flay you.

Some lunk in the village took a snap with his phone.

I don't think he knew it was me.

Might I take it for a quick spin before she goes bye-bye?

Lend my baby to a profligate drunk?

You crashed the weekend.

Go on. Be a darling, let me crash your car.

- -remains there on 72,

- from 42 deliveries.

He's been the one constant at the top of the order...

Wilson speaking.

Are you skulking around the back gate listening to the cricket?

- Yes, ma'am. - I'm coming through, open up.

Understood, ma'am.

Thank you, Wilson!

The umpire is reviewing the play...

Hi.

We're trying to find the ambassador.

- You lost her? - Not lost. But Byron can't find her,

- and neither can we. - Okay.

Yup.

Why does Ronnie think you're AWOL?

I'm out for a drive.

- You should be on the way to the airport. - Fuck.

Yeah, Ganon lands in 20 minutes.

Send Hal.

Hal is not the ambassador.

He is an ambassador, and he'll swoop in.

He's good at all that.

Ma'am, where exactly are you?

Ma'am, you should be up--

Relationships like that are rare.

You and Hal.

Yeah.

Not like that in my family.

Not even your brothers?

That's a disaster for its own special reasons.

What did the Daily Mail say about your brother?

Ancient history now.

I'm meeting Maggie. Shouldn't I know?

By the end of the campaign, I was rather low. I'd lost a baby.

My partner had me in a setup akin to house arrest.

He blamed me.

That's awful.

I told Austin I'd jump off the roof if I didn't get any oxy.

- Ah. - So he got it for me.

Illegal prescription, abuse of office.

And the Daily Mail found out.

Roylin found out.

She fed it to the tabloids as a story about my brother having a pill problem.

He can't forgive her.

It's unforgivable.

I admire her efficacy.

I'm so sorry.

Be a darling, don't mention it to Roylin.

Of course.

Wouldn't want her to think I care.

Good to see you too, Mr. Secretary.

You know what I told the president when he asked me

about sending your wife to a Tiffany post like London?

As I understand it, he didn't ask.

I said you're not gonna get her, you're gonna get Hal.

I've always just been the lunk standing behind her,

holding her back.

We should be so lucky.

Actually, you are.

- Trowbridge can't get enough of her. - What?

He showed up yesterday.

Doesn't wanna leave.

So now I have another Wyler fucking my relationship with the White House.

She'll smooth it out.

Talked him back from the brink yesterday, just needs to iron out a couple of things.

You've been in the wilds of Arabia for too long,

so let me spell it out.

The ambassador in London has one job:

Greet me at the fucking airport.

You never sent Val to do anything for you?

It's something worth thinking about.

You okay?

Look at this.

- Looks bad. - Yeah, heat rash.

Val thinks it's all the flying.

- Does it itch? - What do you think?

I didn't fly nine hours to play lawn croquet with Nicol Trickle

while Kate Wyler does the real work.

It's closer to seven. Isn't it?

What?

Hours. From D.C.

Just saying.

One in from the corner. On the right.

Why not the corner?

"Congratulations, Tom,

that's double the size of your last office."

It looks great. I just thought you were talking about the corner.

Give me those back.

What you got?

Nothing.

What have you got?

For chrissake.

I'm sorry I slagged on your office.

I'm not withholding intelligence

because you failed to register the significance of my new quarters,

I'm in receive mode.

Why?

Because having collated all of the information we gathered

from all of our sources in Russian military intelligence,

it's quite clear that this was an FSB plan.

My contacts said the FSB didn't do it.

They said it was GRU.

- They're wrong. - And this is a contact you trust?

No, I went to my chronically unreliable contact.

Shit.

All right.

Possible explanations.

They're lying.

One, they're lying.

Two, the Kremlin did this

without consulting a single piece of Russian intelligence apparatus.

Three, it's not Russia.

Three, it's not Russia. My money's on two.

Yeah.

That sounds right.

I'll talk to a couple of the chattier oligarchs,

see if anyone's heard about this from the inner circle.

Anything new on the submarines?

They're hovering over the fiber-optic cables running out of Cornwall.

Eavesdropping?

That or planning to strike back in case we make a move.

It's a nice office.

You're a terrible person.

Hello. I'm having a battle royale with a hedgehog.

Oh, you out spreading poison?

Oh, come on. I couldn't resist.

Come in. I'll make us some tea.

I'm not going into your musty Hobbit house.

I'll go and inspect the garden.

Find some new shoots. Grind them beneath my feet.

Nicol says you're very bright.

What do you think the tabloids would do

if they knew an unemployed pollster with no military experience

was choosing targets for the RAF?

Milk?

Black.

Milk-in-first suggests you're of the dusty masses.

Would have thought that might appeal to you.

Under no circumstances will President Rayburn support an attack

on Russian forces in the Aleppo-Raqqa-Hama triangle.

No?

If the PM proposes that, Ganon will have to leave.

Why are you letting Nicol stay?

Makes your president look like an old nag,

left to warm his joints by the fire while real men hash it out.

Why are you letting him stay?

Please.

Reports of my Svengali powers are much exaggerated.

You don't want to open a Middle Eastern front with Russia.

I don't.

Then why are you pushing it?

I thought you'd be different than your husband.

Yeah. I thought so too.

Bluster and fuss.

Pull-asides at the urinal, and, "Let's end this now, just you and me."

Would that be so bad?

To end it right now, just you and me?

Hmm.

Come here.

You know what this is?

Scotland.

Hooray!

They taught you something on the airplane.

Let's test your recent British history.

"Take back control." "Leave means leave." My personal favorite, "No, thanks."

Brexit slogans.

Yes. But they're being repurposed...

for the independence movement.

"No, thanks" is trending on the surprisingly active Twitter community

of East Kilbride, Strathaven, and Lesmahagow.

Their representative in parliament just dropped dead.

His wife will likely win his seat.

He was a royalist, but she says...

"No, thanks."

Her vote will force the prime minister to call for a second referendum in Scotland.

There's a very real chance that Scotland will declare independence.

Northern Ireland will follow.

The Welsh do everything slowly, but eventually they'll get the idea.

The first line of Nicol Trowbridge's obituary

will declare him "the prime minister that lost the United Kingdom."

He won't accept a response to Russia that doesn't help him keep the kingdom.

You think war with Russia will give him that?

No, of course not.

He needs one shining moment of unity

to get him past the referendum in Scotland.

And your words seemed to have a clarifying effect.

How did you put it?

"Let's bomb something."

The ambassador has a question.

The ambassador would be wise to make an appearance.

- The secretary of state looks homicidal. - You can't find it anywhere.

- Can we look over this way, sir? - If we needed something pyrotechnic,

small...

British Special Forces.

If we hit Russia, Russia hits back.

But the Lenkov Group isn't Russia. Right? That's what the Kremlin keeps saying.

They are the Kremlin's private army pretending to be mercenaries.

But sometimes,

because it's a really good way to make money,

they do work as mercenaries.

Butchering civilians for dictators on four continents.

She wants us to hit the Lenkov Group?

As a thought exercise.

It's illegal.

Self-defense is the only legal foundation for a British attack.

What if we could defend

against an imminent Lenkov Group attack somewhere.

Defend.

Lenkov troops are raping their way through Libya.

Trying to reopen a war that the U.N. settled.

And Libya has requested our help more than once.

Why don't we help them?

A hit on Lenkov troops in Libya, it's not revenge, it's...

aiding Libyan self-defense.

Legal.

Lethal.

Scratches the itch for Trowbridge.

It might.

- Does he like it? - Is he into it?

I don't know, I can't tell his happy face from his sad face.

We can't put it on the table with all of them there, so...

you bring it to Ganon and I'll bring it to Trowbridge.

You're right.

It's good. You found something that's quite workable.

We all did.

Well, the concept was yours.

It was Margaret Roylin's.

That's where you were?

- I know-- - I'm quite sure you don't.

Do you or do you not want the PM to buy this?

The minute you leave the room, he calls Roylin and she says, "Brilliant."

And we're done.

Ganon's through there.

Take a second.

Why is my office getting calls about Libya?

The ambassador had some questions.

You said the ambassador wasn't painting targets,

she was doing some sort of mind-fuck,

designed to make Trowbridge buy a diplomatic plan.

It's a good plan.

It's so good he wants to attack Russian fighters in Libya?

Since when did you become the brave defender of Russian mercenaries?

We can't find the ball.

Russia.

We can't pinpoint who gave the order.

It wasn't military intelligence. It wasn't the FSB.

Sources who should know where it came from didn't even know it was happening.

That's very bad.

I get it.

So how about we call the ambassador and tell her to slow her roll.

You want me to pull the rug out from under her,

because you can't pinpoint which of the dozen guys

in the Kremlin's inner circle pressed "go"?

If you wanna be reductionist about it, yeah.

She's in a room with the PM and the secretaries,

and she has a plan.

Part of the reason it's working is because they're all in there staring at each other

and Ganon really wants to leave.

So if we stop her because the intelligence isn't all there yet,

we're gonna lose our shot.

"Isn't all there"?

If the intelligence changes, we'll change the plan.

- Like we did in Iraq? - Come on.

We leveled the country before we changed that plan.

We are gonna push the Lenkov Group out of Libya.

It's good news.

So?

He bought it.

- I can't believe it. It actually worked. - It didn't.

Ganon said no.

But it's a rock-solid plan.

A flat no.

Won't even run it up the flagpole.

That makes no sense. None.

I'm in the car.

Can you find out where Ganon flew in from this morning?

D.C.

No, it wasn't D.C. But State's not gonna tell you that.

How would you suggest I find out

if the secretary made a secret side trip on his way over here?

I don't know, ask your CIA girlfriend.

If I met him at the airport like a good girl,

- would he have given it a chance? - No.

Did you say something to him?

- About what? - Anything.

He was in a pissed off mood from the get-go.

He's got a rash.

Did you comment on it?

Uh, yeah, I saw the bumps on his back,

and I said, "Mr. Secretary, what the oozing fuck is that?"

I went at him too hard.

Jesus Christ. Come on.

He was ready to hate me.

He hates you, and he thinks I'm your meat puppet.

Kate, he made a pitstop in South Carolina on the way here

to receive an honorary doctorate.

In South Carolina?

So maybe he didn't like the plan because he doesn't want Rayburn to succeed.

Ganon wants to be president.

He's a great candidate.

He's experienced.

But you don't win against a sitting president

who just brokered a Persian-Gulf-Russia-Libya hat trick.

Wow.

Is that it?

- What? - "Wow"?

I'm speechless. I thought you liked when that happened.

Do you, or do you not want to be considered

- for vice president of the United States? - Fuck's sake.

- Look, you haven't said yes yet, right? - I haven't.

And you haven't said no definitively to Billie.

- Have you? - No.

That means Billie wants to make you happy.

And the president wants to make you happy.

That means right now is the one time when you get to break shit.

What is it that you think I should break?

The secretary of state.

God.

Do you see...

that every time you're backed into a corner,

or I am backed into a corner,

your best idea is to cut the legs off one of your colleagues?

You've left a bloody swath across all of Washington.

Why does Ganon have to like you?

Because people do things for people they like.

We exist in a marketplace of favors.

That has lubricated your journey through the world.

So Stuart will lubricate.

That's not your job anymore. It's his.

I didn't do any of that because you did it for me.

I was doing something else, right?

If everybody hates you, it all stops.

- Does it? - Yeah.

Well, you hate me.

I'm still sitting on your bed.

How's it going?

Not great.

The secretary of state wants to kill the plan.

I'm sorry.

No, you're not.

I'm not?

No. You didn't like the plan in the first place.

I don't like sending a plan up the chain before we have intelligence to support it.

- It's actually a great plan. - Mm-hm.

The husband knows about us.

Wyler's husband?

He called you my girlfriend.

Does the wife know?

I don't know.

But our hands are kind of being forced here.

- And I'm okay with it. - What are you saying?

Maybe we go public.

Because you wanna go public, or because somebody figured it out?

How's about both?

That's some really moving assent.

Dating a station chief's a hotshot move. It makes you look good.

- I'm okay with that. - Makes me look like a fucking girlfriend.

You're the one who wanted to go to Cairo together. Openly.

When you show up and a relationship's in place, it's old news.

Here, it'll make me look like I haven't been doing my job,

because I've been swooning over you.

- You have. - I'm not--

You know what, whatever. I gotta go.

Hi.

Should we try that again?

Yeah.

Do you want to be in a public relationship with me?

Yes.

Yeah, me too.

I did something.

- Again? - Thanks.

Will it work?

I don't think so.

If it worked, Ganon would've gotten a phone call,

and he'd be really pissed off.

I think it's gonna get me fired.

Unfortunate.

Life will be simpler here without me.

It will.

Okay. How did you know?

- About Ganon? - About me and the station chief.

I didn't.

Wait, you said--

I said.

I didn't know.

Then you left this long, dangling pause. That's when I knew.

Ah.

I thought it might be fitting if you said a few words to open.

I shouldn't be making a toast.

I'm the stray dog who turned up on the back steps and wouldn't leave.

Don't you got any remarks, welcoming us to your humble monument to colonial plunder?

I think I'll wait until you're all thoroughly lacquered.

Smart man.

There's an Arab proverb that goes something like,

"It's good to know the truth and speak it.

It's better to know the truth and speak of palm trees."

All of which is to say, love what you did with the plants.

Excuse me.

Ladies and gentlemen, the Libya plan is in motion.

Please cancel your dinner plans.

The document you got five minutes ago is out of date,

someone got a little too eager with the send button.

A new one is on its way.

I would love a map of Libya from this millennium,

I believe I'm looking at one from the last millennium.

Of all the reasonable options,

that is what the president of the United States

has decided we should be doing.

Marching into Libya as if we didn't learn our lesson in Iraq.

And in Afghanistan.

And, now that I think about it, in Libya...

I feel like we should rescue him.

- Stuart? - Yeah.

- -over, and expecting different results... - That's the job.

You did it for years. Not your job anymore.

Yeah.

This job is better.

- Is it? - On a day like today, yeah.

- It's like a fucking drug, isn't it? - Settle down.

I was a little shitty.

About the idea of you playing number two,

without eating up all the oxygen in the room.

You weren't shitty. You were dubious.

With reason.

But... I did it.

Didn't I?

Oh, boy, that was an earful.

Is he gonna be okay?

Fuck him.

You brought the Western alliance back from the brink of war with Russia.

- Whoa, grandiose. - Accurate.

Accurate.

You know who has days like this all the time?

Stop.

- The vice president. - Okay.

Plenty of vice presidents do nothing ever.

Plenty do a lot.

You can do more in an afternoon than most people accomplish in a lifetime.

Just think about that.

I think she's thinking about it.

Really?

Ma'am, do you wanna be vice president?

You hear that?

That was... a long pause.

It was a long pause.

A long, dangling, eloquent pause.

All right, go have another drink.

- Careful. - Or what?

They're not divorced yet.

I wasn't aware they were getting a divorce. Are they?

Confidentially, yeah.

I should congratulate her.

- They're eager to read your report. - I could brief.

I'm not qualified to write the report.

- But perhaps you could-- - No.

- But if you-- - No.

- Okay. - Sorry. Excuse me, darling.

Are you quite all right?

I'm dating someone at work.

Oh, how lovely.

And we're going public, and you're the first person I've told.

Oh.

Oh, I'm honored.

Who is it?

I can't tell you.

- Why not? - Can't tell you that, either.

Oh. Is it CIA?

- What? - I know. It can't be easy, dating CIA.

I... It's...

The messaging could use some work, but congratulations all the same.

It's a gift, isn't it?

Passion for work, passion for each other,

all whirled up like some lusty tornado.

Some people never have anything like it.

Give him a turn.

Yes, okay.

- It's better than one, isn't it? - What?

Two.