Original subtitles

The Agency needs to know about the negotiations.

They know the Chinese are in the room.

They need someone

- in the same room, too. - I will never betray my country.

The American tried to recruit Samia.

As a precaution, negotiations will now be moved.

So, what do you expect us to do?

Absolutely nothing.

Nothing has a price.

Russians. Two.

Working in the U.S. Energy Department.

Sold.

Where's Coyote?

General Volchok.

We need something

you have access to.

Something he always has on him.

A woman is dead

for zero intelligence.

The thing keeping me up tonight isn't did I make a mistake.

It's now I have no line to get Coyote back.

Bon voyage, Coyote.

I've been ordered to return home.

I want you to come with me now.

Do you know what they do to traitors' families?

If you leave, I can't do anything.

We swept Dalaga,

Osman and Sami's rooms at Raffles

before the cleaners got in.

And?

Just this.

It was on the counter in Osman's bathroom.

Hey. Hey.

I need you. Boardroom.

So, you don't know where he is?

It's fair to say, sir,

we do not have a current location,

but the time frame indicates that Coyote

is likely in Ukraine already.

I'm reading active intel saying Coyote's

been moved behind enemy lines by Valhalla.

Yeah, we can confirm that, sir.

Well, you said you'd get him back.

This is him getting further away.

We had an operation to track his movement

that unfortunately failed.

Failed?

Look, this is...

It's a very fluid situation, sir.

Fluid?

Oh, I see. Fluid, like-like what?

Like a bucket of piss?

Like a bucket of sloppy fucking horse shit?

Sir, the situation is worse than you think.

We don't just need to know where Coyote is,

we need to know where he's going to be.

And how are you gonna achieve that?

With a crystal ball?

We have an operation in mind

that you could liken to a crystal ball, yes.

Intriguing. Also,

completely baffling,

not to mention impossible. Do tell.

Sir, I'm afraid,

for reasons of operation security, we can't.

Mm.

Excuse me?

Sir, this op

is our last best shot.

And my colleague, Martian--

All right, enough, enough, enough.

Just listen up, you...

you bunch of no-nut dick clowns.

If I ever call the president and tell him that Russia

is about to win the next century...

Just make it work.

- Understand? - Loud and clear, sir.

Loud and clear.

"Dick clowns"?

Start anywhere you like.

What do you mean?

I mean the fucking crystal ball.

I don't have a crystal ball.

I see. I see. So, that was all a bluff.

To the director of the Central Intelligence Agency.

I was buying time.

- Buying time? - We need to get Coyote back.

To do that, we need a plan. We have a day, two at best.

Get the fuck out of here.

And you say you're Spanish,

but your English is pretty good.

I've got American cousins in New York

I used to visit growing up.

And I've been living in London while I finish my PhD.

What are you doing here in Iran?

I'm here for my work. I'm a seismologist.

I work with Reza Mortazevi.

- You can call him-- - Full name.

- Mortazevi. - No, you.

Daniela Moreno Acosta.

Address in London?

My old address?

I sold the flat. 66a Vicarage Grove, SE...

Closest underground stop?

Oval. But I take the overground

from Denmark Hill. It's closer.

Date and place of birth?

30th of July, 1998. Seville.

That where you from? Seville?

No, my parents

are from Sanlúcar, on the coast. That's where I grew up.

What's the name of the horse race in Sanlúcar de Barrameda?

I, um, I'm not into horse racing.

You're from Sanlúcar?

You would know. Are you from Sanlúcar?

It's called the Carreras de Caballos,

every August, on the beach

at the mouth of the Guadalquivir river.

It's the oldest horse race in Spain.

Carreras de Caballos.

Carreras de Caballos. August.

Are my questions boring you?

No.

Would you prefer to be somewhere else?

I mean, if you're offering.

You know, I'm writing a report on you.

Shall I write that Ms. Acosta doesn't like

to have her alias challenged,

that it bores her?

Wait, no, I never said that. It's fine.

What do you want me to write, then?

I don't know, it's your report.

Why are you letting me say that I'm testing your alias?

Am I testing your alias?

Are you a fucking spy?

Shit.

Unless I say stop, you continue the exercise.

In Tehran, it won't stop.

Whatever happens, you keep going,

even if someone is trying to throw you off.

You never switch off, okay?

Never, ever.

Fucking shit. Fuck.

Were her last words.

Thank you.

I'd like you to resume sessions with Martian.

I've tried. He's, quote, "extremely busy."

Say I insist.

I need an assessment of his current state of mind.

I'll talk to him today.

Thank you.

Would you like to come in yourself?

I'd love to,

but I'm extremely busy.

We believe a Valhalla transit team

is moving Coyote.

Leading the group is General Volchok himself.

They're traveling into and through

Russian-occupied Eastern Ukraine.

Now, we don't have a current location,

but you can assume they're in touch with the base in Minsk.

A list of Minsk personnel we know

work for Volchok at a level.

One of them is our white rabbit.

Hunt out who.

Game how we can make them run.

It's 0900 Zulu.

We have four hours.

Oh, my God. Don't shit your pants.

We can do this. We can work together.

Oh, uh, a-are you sure about that?

We still have Paul Lewis's phone?

Uh, yes, but it's off.

I was told the legend's offline until further orders.

Grandma and Grandpa turned up a lead in the hotel.

Can I check it?

Uh, yeah.

Paul. Paul Lewis of the CIA.

If you care for this woman,

I trade her life for a thing of interest to me.

She lives, she dies.

You choose.

Can I take this with me?

Uh, yeah, you just have to sign it out on the system,

so that there's a record. I have to, uh, file a report.

Okay. No problem.

I'll come back if we actually need

to bother taking it out again.

Can we find a moment today?

Not today.

Russian soldiers outside. Looks like a security sweep.

- How many? - Two trucks with three men each.

Not army. Looks like FSB to me.

Chekov.

Means he's on his way.

Maintain comms blackout. We clean if they come in?

As a whistle.

- We found something. - Blair did.

- She found it. - Found what?

Being on Volchok's staff is like going to West Point.

If you can hack it,

any high-ranking job, anywhere in Russian intel,

military, politics, Volchok is the inside track,

which is why he has people devoted to him

throughout the FSB, the SVR, the GRU and the Kremlin.

He's a career maker.

Everyone except for...

Leo Kravitsky.

Former chauffeur, then a chef.

Met Volchok back in Saint Petersburg.

Kept him close. Been with him ever since.

He wants a hand up.

Never got one.

Only guy working under Volchok for 13 years,

going nowhere.

Maybe he loves him,

like fucking Jeeves and what's his name.

Wooster. Yeah, maybe.

Except some nights, after work and a bottle of vodka,

he hits Telegram and WhatsApp, and he pisses and whines.

Here.

"Why am I never invited to lunch with Volchok?

"After all I've done.

"One day I'll show that ungrateful bastard.

You'll see if I don't."

Do it.

Does he think it's Volchok?

I don't know. I think so.

Someone's betraying us.

He's asking who.

I don't know. I no longer trust anyone.

I'm putting together a new team starting tonight.

Everything will change.

I want you to head up

the new team.

And no one must know except you and me.

You're the only one I trust.

I have for a long time, haven't I?

I want you to meet a member of your new team.

Be at Komsomolsk Arena at 11:00 a.m. tomorrow.

They'll come to you.

You'll each recite poetry I'll send,

to recognize each other.

I want you to make a list.

Men we trust. Men we don't.

Great.

Now send him the poem.

Now this marks the end of our little journey for now.

It was extraordinary to work with all of you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

It was a pleasure.

Wow. Those look amazing.

This is Zeytoon Parvardeh. Marinated olives.

- And this is dolmeh kalam. - Stuffed cabbage leaves, right?

Azar. I'm Reza's wife.

Uh, Danny. So nice to meet you.

I had no idea you were in London.

Just a few days.

Honestly, I hate these events.

You, uh, you-you speak good English.

Says the girl who speaks Farsi.

Tell me, what drew you to seismology?

Uh... in a nutshell?

Small physical events built up over eons

suddenly erupting in unimaginable violence.

Hmm.

Where is she?

What was your mission in Addis Ababa?

Where is she?

In deadly peril.

Thanks to you.

What do you want?

In Addis you recruited people.

Intellectuals,

Ethiopians, Eritreans, Djiboutians, Yemenis,

Sudanese writers, revolutionaries.

Opponents to their regimes.

I want the list.

If I give it to you, what happens to Samia?

She's riding your cock this weekend.

That's what you want, right?

Or I just kill you and sink your body in the river.

You need to take care of me, pamper me, be nice to me.

48 hours, lover boy.

This stuff is so sticky.

Do you cook?

Love to. I don't have time.

Another workaholic.

Did you study engineering, too?

In Madrid, and then finished my second degree in Barcelona.

- You're from Madrid? - Sanlúcar.

Andalucía.

I've heard of it.

The beautiful town on the coast with the horse races.

My cousin sent me a postcard.

What's the race called?

The fiesta?

It's called Carrera de Caballos de Sanlúcar.

- Hmm. - You've already met.

Of course.

Mmm. Not bad. Just a bit dry.

- Danny helped me make them. - Oops.

What have you two been talking about?

Let's see. Horse races. Working too hard.

Iranian recipes.

And sudden eruptions of violence.

You're sure?

He shows all the symptoms.

PTSD triggers,

hypervigilance, aggression, paranoia, avoidance.

It's categorical.

And the risks?

Loss of perspective. Lapses in concentration.

Getting bogged down in minor details

and missing out on something obvious and important.

- So basically, everything. - I'm not done.

Delusions of omnipotence, invincibility,

invulnerability, self-medication.

I could use a bit of that right now myself.

Then they turn on themselves: blame, guilt,

uh, impulsive outbursts, violence, suicidal ideation.

I wish we had had this conversation earlier.

- Why? - Because I signed off on Martian

heading back into the field to recruit a Valhalla asset.

- When does he leave? - Two hours ago.

Going where?

Belarus.

On what we call a bounce dive.

Not down long enough to get the bends.

Y-You enter a country illegally via a covert insertion.

No border control. No passport. You were never there.

Wind up dead? You're forever John Doe.

This could be a disaster.

What about the omnipotence

and invincibility part?

Can't we root for that?

Thinking you're that

and being it are two different things.

Says someone who's never been in the field.

You're going to be dealing with us from now on, on this.

What's this for?

You have a message.

Who are you?

General Volchok won't be pleased to hear of your betrayal.

You tricked me.

Tell the general.

He'll only shoot you for being stupid.

Volchok has ignored you. You're no better than his dog.

I've read your emails, Leo.

Your boss is an asshole.

But what if he wasn't your boss anymore?

When he's gone-- and I'm talking days, hours--

Valhalla needs a new commander.

Who's more senior,

more experienced, more loyal than you?

There's tons of dessert left, and I'm getting fat.

So, finish them. That's an order.

Thanks. I love them.

We've got the results from Alborz Station. May I?

Of course.

Wow.

So beautiful.

You can see the epicenter really clearly.

I'd like you to calculate the on-site effects for me.

I'd have to collect local data to do...

Exactly.

Are you asking me to come to Iran?

Isn't that what you want?

Thanks. I'll think about it.

And another thing.

Azar is not my wife.

Wait... what?

I'm-I'm confused. She's not--

Before we ask anyone to come to Iran,

we have to take precautions.

Azar was there to make sure there weren't any problems.

What sort of problems?

I just want to be honest with you.

We are going to be working very closely together.

It is important that we trust each other.

So, think about it.

No rush.

Thanks.

You know what? I like this.

Like what?

Well, this-- human intel, dead drops, codes and shit.

Old school. I didn't think anyone did this anymore.

You been doing this long?

Long enough.

That thing in your hand has you under surveillance 24/7--

where you are, who you see, what you think.

Human intel is the last place an agency can operate unwatched.

Maybe the last place anyone's free.

You see?

I like that.

Also, people have never been so distracted before,

like you.

So interested in whatever salt lick that thing's feeding you,

you miss the important stuff.

Pop.

Someone's putting the trash out.

Take me back to the border.

Take off your clothes.

Everything?

You can keep your bra and undies on.

Dude.

Hmm?

Hand me that bag.

Grandma.

Say goodbye to your old phone.

Hello to your new one.

You guys put a number for my mom in here?

Anybody calls, it comes through us.

We can pretend to be her.

Can I ask you something?

Last chance. Doesn't mean that I'll answer.

Did Edward send reports to you?

What do you think?

That it wasn't the plan,

but when you knew we were seeing each other, you asked him to.

And he did.

If he did-- and I'm saying if--

it was positive or you wouldn't be going.

Did you put him on me on purpose?

No. He just liked you.

And he didn't like doing the reports.

Grandma, our girl's got her clothes back on.

Tell Henry we're done.

The Deputy Defence Minister of Russia

is visiting the front line in Ukraine.

And here's his secret itinerary.

Nice work.

And if this, uh...

Leo.

...winds up Valhalla brigade commander,

he could become one hell of an asset, down the line.

Traveling with the minister,

in charge of his security detail,

is one Colonel Oleg Dimushenko.

Coyote's being handed over to Dimushenko? Why him?

Volchok know him personally?

He's a former lieutenant of his, protégé,

promoted to colonel in the FSB.

And then intel director at the Russian Ministry of Defense.

And my guess is Volchok

wants a meeting with his defense minister.

The general has political ambitions.

Nice. Mind the gap.

Valhalla's a fortress while he's in charge.

He's paranoid about security.

That's why we've never gotten inside.

Paranoia is his superpower.

Well, there's only one place on this list

I know we can't use.

The clinic. Operation Felix, right?

You know nothing about that.

Which is why I've told Leo the clinic is the handover.

You did what?

We need any edge we can get.

This is hostile territory. If we've got units

on the ground, I want to use 'em.

Y-You have no idea what that operation even is.

How dare you fuck a mission that isn't even ours?

It's all one mission.

Tell that to Langley.

Tell that to the Pentagon.

Tell them we've redeployed a high-priority JSOC covert op.

We can't. They'll lose their shit.

And I'll lose my job.

We'll make it their call.

Which is more important? Coyote or Felix?

Listen. Listen. I cut you a ton of slack, Martian,

but this is over the line. We make decisions

with, not against, each other.

If it was you out there,

would you want a bunch of meetings

about how to save your life, or just one?

You are a fucking cog, Martian!

Like all of us.

You're not the whole goddamn machine.

Do you even know what you've done?

Felix is a three-man op--

one Delta and two Ukrainian Special Forces.

That's a kill team, Henry.

One sniper plus a long and short spotter.

The clinic is a trap.

But if they think they can take out a Russian cabinet minister

and get out alive?

It's a kamikaze mission.

What have I done, Henry?

I just saved everyone in Felix's life.

What did I tell you?

What did I specifically say not to fuck with,

because this is so important, so secret,

even I don't want to know about it?

Because if it gets out, if it goes to shit,

my office has no deniability.

You are on really thin ice here.

What if they decide to go ahead with Felix

instead of rescuing Coyote? What then?

Would you?

Tell JSOC to send in a team.

Your Coyote rescue is a go.

What'd you say to him?

As you probably could hear,

he did all the talking.

Okay.

Chekov is still coming,

but you have new orders.

What? We're an abort?

We've been planning this for months.

It's not an abort.

Your position here is not wasted.

Priorities change.

You will be eyes on the ground

for a Blue Light deploying here in six hours.

Delta are taking out our target?

Why? Why? We can do this.

Your target is no longer the objective.

Fuck.

What is?

Classified.

You assist positioning the Blue Light team.

No other objective.

Then, you extract with them.

End of mission.

This is fucking bullshit.

What the fucking fuck?

He'll be right here.

What, we're supposed to just grin and do nothing?

- You don't have the big picture. - What big picture?

All these months of work, of risks, for what?

Fuck this, man.

Listen, you're soldiers.

You're redeployed. We do what we're told.

All right?

Do you want our help in this war or not?

My country's at war, not yours.

You haven't been invaded. You don't know how it feels.

Now am I supposed to, what,

smile and shake my enemies' hand?

There's more at stake here than your pride,

or else they wouldn't be doing this.

Are your orders clear?

Sir, yes, sir.

Clear.

Fucked up, but clear.

Good.

News on Dr. Samia Zahir.

I spoke to the Horn of Africa CJTF.

Have they found out where she is?

Embassy announced she's touring East Asia

for the Centre for Cultural Heritage.

No one's questioning her absence.

But NSC did track Mr. Dalaga's private jet

to a runway at Khartoum Airport.

She could've boarded any flight from here.

A cell phone cluster met Dalaga's jet on arrival.

Traveled to Kober prison,

which, since the riot and prison break,

is now controlled by the RSF-Janjaweed militias.

H of A think they're using it as a black site.

Want me to relay this to Martian?

Don't tell Martian anything.

I'll brief him myself.

Kravitsky. Volchok.

SAC are downstairs.

Must be getting close.

Let's run it, from the top.

- Okay. - Go over the whole play,

see if anything squeaks.

You know Coyote better than anyone.

We need you thinking like him for the next 48 hours.

Drawing on everything you know.

Just wanted to say good luck.

Thank you.

One of ours is lost.

Tomorrow, you bring him home.

You want to hear how?

Take a seat.

Wouldn't that breach protocol?

She doesn't have the proper clearance.

She just said it. One of us is lost.

Let me run it for you. Fresh eyes.

See if you spot a hole.

You know I want to.

You got me home safe.

Help us.

Thank you.

Coyote is being held

by a Russian mercenary group called Valhalla,

commanded by General Volchok.

He's going to be handed over to FSB Colonel Oleg Dimushenko.

Dimushenko is currently in Ukraine,

escorting the Russian Deputy Defence Minister

on a tour of the front.

We started by trying to identify

how the handoff to the Russian security services

would be taking place.

We flipped one of Volchok's closest aides,

and, through him, obtained the itinerary

for the Comrade Minister's visit.

On that list was a medical clinic.

A photo op was planned there.

Ukrainian Special Forces had

a kill mission in place called Felix.

We've redeployed those personnel in order

to position a rescue team.

The idea, now, is to put enough pressure on our man

inside Valhalla's base

so he directs Volchok into a kill zone.

If successful,

mercenaries holding Coyote will arrive at Felix noon tomorrow.

We spring the trap, get our boy.

That's it.

Incredible work.

This is all of us.

Everything you've got.

No matter what happens tomorrow,

we all know what it took just to get to this point.

Let's get it done.

The greatest punishment of treachery?

The faces of the people who trust you.

Faith...

hope...

a common goal.

Something I'd never know again.

Coyote could still make it back.

I knew I never would.

Excuse me.

Welcome aboard Flight MA714.

Please make sure all baggage is stowed safely

in the locker above you or under your seat.

Our flight time today to Tehran

will be six hours and 20 minutes.