All language subtitles for the.agency.2024.s01e06.

For an hour or two, can we just

pretend to be like we were before?

No Osman.

I'll leave here, go to
reception, get a room upstairs.

I don't need to think about it.

They don't know
Coyote like I know him.

We need a break.

So we make one.

Coyote's leaking information.

Code Bravo. Don't trust anyone.

Owen, you may have just
found the hole in the boat.

If they do have Coyote,
they'll allude to it.

Who knows? You may get that call.

Whoever made
the call knows we can trace it

- no matter what.
- Yes.

Eric Zheng Huang.

Why is he in London?

Business. Politics.

He's got Middle Eastern
and African links.

I finally saw
the size of the stakes

in the game I'd been dealt into.

China was trying to broker
a secret deal in Sudan.

Anyone who exposed
the people involved

would immediately be neutralized.

I need to get rid of someone.

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

Okay. Uh, approaching
the pickup point now.

No red team in sight. Proceed.

Uh, it's empty.

Oh, wait, no, no, no, no.
Th-There's something in here.

Uh, a photo. A polaroid.

That's a phone number.

9:53, contact made with Cossack.

Have you lost a bike?

I did.

I found it.

Is it still in good condition?

Information has a price.

This is an auction. Make a bid.

An auction. Who else is bidding?

Who sets the price?

Make a bid.

How? Who to?

Bidding ends in 24 hours.

How do I bid?

Bidding.

Bidding?

Would they actually sell him
to someone else?

Not necessarily. Could be a method.

Oh, I found it.

Yeah. Image matches.

Uh, current bid is $140,000.

Uh, there's two bidders.

It could be other parties or it
could be to take raises off the wall

and control the sale price.

Someone has put an American agent

up for sale online.

Fuck that. I'm not playing.

I'll tell the Pentagon
Belarusians have decided to

invade the U.S., whatever.

Why is Cossack being so cautious?

The treasure hunt,

the locker, the polaroid,

the anonymous phone number,

the voice on the end, the damn auction?

If an agency had Coyote,
they'd come at us straight.

We've got channels.
Why anonymous go-betweens?

Because someone's scared
we'll identify them.

Why? What are they hiding?

Well, one thing's certain:

this isn't the playbook of the FSB.

Coyote isn't being held by an agency.

Not the Belarusians, not the Russians.

Cossack's working alone.

Guo.

You booked a taxi?

I have errands to run.

I can take you.

Thanks, but the taxi's
already on its way.

I cancelled it. And I must ask you

not to leave the hotel unaccompanied.

- Why?
- I'm here to protect you.

Protect? Or control?

I know people who know Osman

in Chad, Darfur.

I need to keep you safe.

- This mission is too important...
- You're here to protect me

from my protection?

I'm here to work with them.

You need anything, you call me.

Where did you get that jacket?

What have you done?

Enjoy the sushi.

I won't dance. Not like this.

CIA operatives are valuable.

It's a bluff.

Even if it is, we can't ignore it.

You find Cossack. Then we'll talk.

Mikhail Bortnik is first contact.

Cossack's in his circle.
Maybe his boss. Maybe not.

Cossack's experienced,
trained, professional.

Uses unconventional methods
to cover his tracks.

Okay, I'll let him know.

The Brits are downstairs.

Is it in the diary?

No, but it's Richardson.

Bring him up.

Get Naomi. I'll be right there.

Decent of you to accommodate
this at such short notice.

Try none.

Our, uh, weekly meeting
for tea and biscuits at Legoland

is coming up. What couldn't wait?

Legoland.

We haven't got a droll name
for this place yet.

How can I help you, Jim?

Kensington Park Gardens.

What about it?

Come on. I thought we shared toys.

The Chinese are brokering
a peace deal in Sudan,

which will leave them in control

of the Horn of Africa for decades.

Eric Huang of number 73

Kensington Park Gardens
is making the sandwiches.

Deputies of General Hemedti

and de facto ruler
General Fattah al-Burhan

in attendance.

We thought you knew all
about it. Your backyard and all.

Do you have anything useful to add

to what we already know
about these ongoing talks?

Is he in?

He's meeting the Brits.

- Why? Who?
- Richardson.

James Richardson?

I don't want to put
anyone's nose out of joint here,

but if you did know about these talks,

why wouldn't you
want to share that with us?

This is, as you say, our backyard.

I rather think we ought
to be kept up to speed

by an ally on everything
that's happening

on our sovereign soil.

Sorry to barge in like this, Henry,

but they need you in the crisis room.

Oh, we don't have
one of those, but then again,

we try to avoid crises
as a matter of policy.

You two know each other?

Hello, Brandon.

James is an old mate.

We served together overseas.

Here's the deal,
you don't say "mate," "bloody,"

or "quid," and I promise
not to "take a rain check."

I'll walk you to the elevator.

Don't want me
wandering around unescorted?

Nice catch.

So why does it feel like
I just got placed

on a concussion protocol list?

You don't think that was just
SIS sharing intel?

"Hey look over there!"

Someone says that, in this business...

You're about to lose your wallet.

Or your life.

What the fuck are you doing?

Oh, come on.
I'm up for Control next year.

Can't hand me an ace
and expect me not to play it.

Motherfucker, I trusted you.

We all make mistakes.

Don't try to fuck me, Jim.

You mean, after everything
we've been through together?

Afghanistan, Iraq, Syria, Yemen?

You say, "Jump," we say, "How high?"

If I do get C, all that changes.

PC-9 Zoaf is carried by a lot
of cops and army officers.

It's essentially an Iranian copy
of the SIG P226,

not terrible.

Chambers nine mil Parabellum.
Safety like a Sig.

Worth familiarizing yourself
with everything

you'd come across out there,

especially as you'll be unarmed
at all times.

Because I'm not a spy?

Mm.

So any shooting situation
will be field-found weapons.

You may also find Iranian copies
of the Browning Hi-Power,

even old Colt M1911s.

So, Edward.

It's my job.

Finding out secrets.

Edward's nice. The end.

Relationships are impossible.

Choose a civilian, you have to lie.

Choose another spook,
you're both never there.

It's okay, we're just fucking.

Okay.

Wait, did he say it was more?

See? I'm not doing this.

Not doing what?

Running little notes
between lovestruck teenagers.

Who said anyone was lovestruck?

Did he say I was?

Think he is?

So, now, this is a great illustration.

Avoid emotional entanglement.

Entangled?

I'm about to ship out.

Good.

A sailor on shore leave.

Exactly. With one in every port.

- Hello?
- A call for you,

- Mr. Lewis.
- Who?

A woman. Didn't give a name.

Put her through.

Paul?

I'm here.

Abdel had your jacket.

- Are you okay?
- I'm fine.

I was so worried about you.

It was nothing. Are you okay?

I'm fine.

You don't sound fine.

I'm basically under house arrest.

Do as they say.

They'll figure out
they've made a mistake.

I'm...

I'm so sorry.

Look, if anyone hurts you...

I can look after myself.

- I missed that.
- What?

Your laugh.

Here you are, mate.

- Who was following you?
- I don't know.

Maybe I'm just paranoid.

Lukashenko steamrolled
his secret service for years.

Hoarding power for himself.
It's created schisms.

Colonel Buloychyk did all he could

to thwart Lukashenko's plans,
so he got sent to the provinces.

- This man...
- Matskevich.

...General Matskevich,
real opportunist, not a traitor.

Too much to lose.

Cossack, it's my opinion,
has nothing left to lose.

So, like who?

Novikov.

Retired KGB general.

Still active behind the scenes.

Lived for the KGB till
Lukashenko took a dump in it.

Climbed the ranks. Code name: Vasminoh.

- The Octopus.
- Deep well of intel.

- Born spymaster.
- Old-school.

Trained at Lubyanka.

He's 76 years old.

Everything about this was old.

Analog, dead drops, breadcrumb meets.

But are you sure?

No.

Enough to go at him? Yes.

Bidding closes in 25 minutes.

Do a deep dive on Novikov.

Hello, I'd like
to speak to the general, please.

- Who is calling?
- His oncologist in London.

Dr. Kemple.

- Dr. Ian Kemple.
- One moment, please.

Dr. Kemple?
I'll put the general on.

Hello, Doctor.

Novikov,

I'm calling about a bike
you have for sale.

No questions, hung up.

It's him.

We have Cossack.

We start paying kidnappers,

we put a target on everyone's back.

A price on their head.

Our enemy takes off heads for free.

Saving Coyote is the priority.

Why does it go up at regular intervals?

I don't think it's about money.

It's a game.

Novikov has lived in the same house

for the last 45 years.

Drives a Mercedes-Benz
he bought 18 years ago.

We're in the laundry.

He's checking to see
if we come out clean,

I can feel it.

It's not about the money.

Well, why does he ask for it?

Pressure.

To get our attention.

He's an old guy,
he wants to show he can still mix it.

Still play the game.

All right, so...

how do we let him know
that him we can, too?

Pay the two dollars.

How much?

It's at 1.4 million.

This is a live audio feed

from the computer
on his accountant's desk.

Uh, you've
received a bank transfer

of 1.4 million
from a bank in Switzerland.

Who sent me this transfer?

A company called
Sun Investors Partners Limited.

Established this morning.

I called you
straight away. It's a large sum.

We need to declare it.

Can I refuse it?

It's already in your account.

Do you have the number

of the account
that made the transfer?

Y... Of course.

Send it all back.

To the penny.

Touchdown.

Novikov knows we're serious.

Now we wait for his response.

Dr. Kemple's office.

I'd like to speak
to Dr. Kemple, please.

This is General Novikov.

Uh, tell Martian to get down here.

Yes, of course. One moment.

Novikov's just called his doctor.

Mr. Novikov? Dr. Kemple here.

I wanted to let you
know I'll be in London tomorrow.

I don't believe we
have an appointment scheduled.

You called the other day.

You were waiting
for me to confirm.

Did I call you?

Your surgery did.

I arrive tomorrow
a little after 12 p.m.

I'm so sorry, my schedule's

completely full all afternoon.

I'm sure you'll find time.

Send a car to City Airport.

What? I-I don't understand.

Mr. Novikov, I-I think
there must have been a mix-up.

Take necessary measures.

He guessed we'd listen
to the doctor's line.

He's good.

Yes?

Grandpa's POB.

Novikov's inbound.

I'm on my way.

I'll be 20 minutes.

Going dark.

Hi, um,

I think my student ID got handed in?

- Poppy Cunningham?
- Yes.

You're in luck.

Someone brought it in last night.

- Thank you so much.
- That's all right.

I'll have an espresso, please.

You are studying at the college?

Yeah.

I, uh, I did two years at LIE.

- Oh, nice.
- Uh, best years of my life.

Oh.

Yeah, my, um,
my scholarship wasn't renewed,

so I-I never got to finish, but, uh,

my country has, um...

many problems.

- Oh, I'm sorry.
- Yeah.

It broke my heart, but, uh,

I'm over it.

I made some good friends there,
you know, and...

I had one, what was his name? Um...

Paul.

Paul Lewis.

Do you know him?

He's a teacher.

He's not one of mine.

And an author, Paul Lewis the writer.

I don't know anyone with that name.

Perhaps he doesn't exist.

I have to go. Sorry.

Yeah, have a good one.

I'm so sorry for the delay, sir.

Where the fuck is Martian?

- Hello?
- Daddy?

- Hello?
- Whoa.

- Hello?
- Slow down. Poppy...

I was calling you. Where are you?

Talk to me. What's happening?

Some guy asked if I knew Paul Lewis.

A Black guy.

He was tall, handsome.

He was well-dressed
and he had an accent.

African, I think.

Listen.

I'm getting you an Uber.

Double check the plate. I'll text it.

Go to your mother's.
Wait for me to call.

I'll talk to you later, okay?

Okay.

Fuck!

Okay. Okay.

Fuck.

He really is on his way, sir.

I'm so sorry.

General.

Thank you for waiting.

- You're sweating.
- I ran.

I was late.

I like people who are fast.

Can you do a deal?

Here, now.

I can, but I need to know
what I'm buying.

Goods or information?

Information.

We can do information as long
as it's guaranteed reliable.

Piotr Rybak.

Forty-two years old.

Investment manager.

Also known by your
Company alias as Coyote.

Goddamn it. He gave up his code name.

I want proof he's alive.

He is alive.

For four...

...five more days.

I can't give you proof.

Then what can you give me?

You're lost.

I'm your compass.

I know what you want to know.

What do you want?

February 11, 1989.

The Vogelsang barracks

north of Berlin.

The CIA made recordings.

I want the tape.

February 11, 1989.

Vogelsang barracks just north of Berlin.

This country.

Used to be strong.

Majestic.

An industrial powerhouse.

Now look at it.

A ruin.

Authorized.

Approved.

You have a deal.

Where's Coyote?

Samia?

Uh, excuse me.

Samia.

My advice?

Get out.

You're still young.

This game...

it's for ghosts.

All the things you love.

Family.

Friends. Lovers.

Country.

You will watch them burn.

All you have to do

is keep being good at your job.

Your drive.

Your will to make sacrifices.

Paul?

Play me the beginning.

Stop the tape.

Look.

Your Coyote is weak.

Depressed. On drugs.

He fucked up.

Recruited someone connected
to the Russian mercenaries.

They got his psychiatrist
to mess with his pills.

Coyote didn't spot it.

He was arrested DUI.

Except he wasn't.

He was drugged.

They took him to a police station

where a corrupt agent named

Bogdan Antuyk took him out via
one of the underground tunnels

that link our government buildings.

Then he passed him to the mercenaries

for 20,000 euros.

Fuck me. The Russians have him.

And that's where
your friend's luck runs out.

Yours, too.

Because that officer
works for General Volchok.

You know this man?

Commander of Valhalla.

He's like me.

KGB to his bones.

So, what does he do

when an American spy falls into his lap?

Sell him back to you?

No.

Because these days, Mr. Volchok

commands a powerful army.

I might say a diabolical outfit.

Special forces,

private military contractors,

ex-convicts.

To win friends in Moscow,

he wraps up your poor Coyote
as a present.

Wants to unveil him

when a VIP is visiting
the front next week.

A CIA agent

on a plate.

For his masters.

Maybe even for his president.

Where is Coyote now?

Behind enemy lines in Ukraine.

Handover with the FSB
takes place next week.

You want him back?

Move fast.

Fuck.

Get me Langley,
secured line in my office.

Who is that?

Reiner Mielke.

Head of the Stasi

in East Berlin from 1957 to 1989.

Who's the other voice?
What do you think?

Bad German. Heavy accent. Lisp.

Sounds like a young KGB goon.
I don't know.

Right. Keep going.

Which other of our friends was in Berlin

from late '80s, early '90s?

Who cut his teeth there?

Volchok?

Ding, ding.

Paul, it's me again.

I've tried you a million times.
Where are you?

I came to your hotel
but you're not here.

Please call me. I have to...

Hello?

Finally. I've been calling you.

I'm fine.

Did you tell Mom?

How did he know that name, Dad?

Look, it's fine.

- You're safe.
- I didn't say anything.

How does he know that, Dad?

Trust me, it's nothing.

Look, honey, I got to go.

Poppy, I love you.

Thank you for joining us, Director,

Mr. Secretary, ma'am.

I'm gonna hold off on thank-yous.

From what I hear,
the news is not good.

Um, our missing agent
is in the hands of the Russians.

Uh, he'll soon be in Moscow

where they intend to use him
to maximum effect.

You mean they'll go public.

That's the likely outcome, yes.

Well, the timing of this
couldn't be worse for us.

What's the fallout?

By the time
we see him in front of a camera,

the SVR and the FSB

will have worked him over.

He will sing

whatever tune they call.

American spies in Ukraine,

black ops on the ground,
this will no longer

be a proxy war.

American boots in their backyard.

Yeah, he'll make it
us versus them.

Escalate,
rattle the nuclear saber,

maybe even justification
to go full alert.

What do I tell the president?

Follow him down to DEFCON 1?
It's not an option.

We'll have to lean out of
Ukraine, which is all they want.

This could change the shape
of the entire conflict.

Talk to me
about quality of intel.

How close is your source
to the fire?

Uh...

Source is, uh, good, close, reliable.

Look, this isn't bad news. It's good.

You want to elaborate on that?

Well, we're saying
the Russians have Coyote.

It's not true. Valhalla does.

Those guys are a bunch of cowboys.

Let's make no mistake here.

For the first time
since Coyote disappeared

14 days and 20 hours ago,

we know where he is, who's holding him.

This is our ball.

So you think you can
still get him back?

Yes.

Right?

That's correct, ma'am, yes.

Uh, we-we have a closing window

before he's to be handed over
to Russian forces proper.

- How long?
- Four days.

I don't want
the president briefed

that he doesn't
have a problem here.

He won't, once we get Coyote back.

Yeah, if you get him back.

Something London station
has so far failed to do.

We'll find him, we'll get him back.

Bosko, call me now.
We need to talk.

You ever heard about
managing expectations?

You know what we do differently here

than they do in any other
part of the government?

What's so special
about our particular agency?

- Thank you very much.
- We don't go it alone, Martian.

You can't think in years.

Procedure's in place, for a reason.

We think in decades.

Geopolitical decades, eras.

And that fucking shit up there?

That-that flies five minutes,
and then it's over.

You do not... you do not
make promises you cannot keep.

And if you have a plan, you would think

it would be a good idea
to run it internally

before you go pitching it straight
to the White House, and the DCI...

I was playing
in the biggest game of my life.

But I knew something
was about to go wrong.

All I could do was raise the bet.

Fly higher, lie bigger.

Hello? Samia?

Hey, Paul.

Yeah, you are a hard man to find.

You know who was easy to find?

Your daughter, Poppy.

But tell me,

is it Poppy Lewis?

Or Poppy Cunningham?

Yeah, I am close, aren't I?

I am very,

very close.