All language subtitles for pennyworth.the.origin.of.batmans.butler.s03e06.1080p.web.h264-cakes

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- Right. Our man
said the target's

in the first floor
bedroom on the south side.

You two secure the ground floor.

Me and Daveboy'll
get the package.

- Piece of cake.

- Let's try not to
wake the neighbors, eh?

Move!

- Thanks, mate.
Now brace yourself.

- Wait.

I was promised money
and a passport.

- Above my pay grade, mate.

Have some trust. You
ready? Has to look good.

- Yes?
- It's Alfie.

- Come in.

I understand.

Of course.

Very well.

- Everything all right?

- That was the call
I've been waiting for.

- You mean...

- The man who says
my father's alive.

He wants to meet at midnight.

- Midnight?

Someone's been
reading spy novels.

Where?

- He's gonna call back
with further instructions.

Tonight I'm finally
gonna know the truth.

- Maybe.

Or maybe it's a trap.

What's he want in return?

- He didn't say.
- Not yet anyway.

I don't like it...
Mysterious phone calls

luring you away in the
middle of the night?

Could be your president looking
to have another whack at you.

Or some villain hoping
to make a few quid.

- He says he's an old
friend of my father's.

- Well, I could claim to be
the king of Bethnal Green.

- I don't have a choice.

I'm going. You
don't have to come.

- Oh, I'm coming.

When he calls back...

you tell him to meet
you at the Queen Anne.

It's the only place you'll meet.

That we can control.

- Fine.

- Good.

- What?

- I'm paid to protect you.

That's my job.

Last night I crossed a line.

- I believe we both crossed it.

- But I started it.

- And I could have stopped it.

Or do you consider your
charms so overpowering?

- Look, what I'm
trying to say is

there are people
trying to kill you.

I can't lose focus.

- Understood.

Won't happen again.
- No, I know it won't.

I've already reached
out to another firm.

Good men. You'll
be well cared for.

- You're quitting?
- I will be with you today

and for your meeting
tonight.

But starting tomorrow,

I think you're better
off with somebody else.

- I don't want somebody else.

- Yeah, I just don't think
I'm the best man for the job.

- Because we slept together?
- Yes.

- No other reason?

- It's reason enough.

- Then why do I feel
like there's something

you're not telling me?

- Look, I just want
you to be safe.

- Very well.

I respect your decision.

I need to get ready now.

- Welcome home, son.

- You don't seem
surprised that I'm here.

- I knew you'd come eventually.

So how's my granddaughter?

- She's fine.

- And Martha?

Also fine.

- I'm glad.

You two?

- We're working things through.

- Good. Never
give up on family.

- Never.

- Once you give up on
family, what's left?

- You look terrible.

- You expect to find me happy?

My conscience unblemished?

Would that help you?
- It might.

- You didn't come all this
way to see me tear my shirt?

- No.

So why did I come?
You know me so well.

- All your life,

I've watched you build this
nice personality you have.

The good son. Good
husband, father.

Hoping no one will see
the angry thing inside.

But I see.

You came here for revenge.

Pure and simple. No
shame in admitting it.

Not to me.

- I came here

because I love you.

- I love you too.

For what it's worth.

- Tell me something...
you remember

from my childhood.

Something good.
- Father and son stuff?

Playing catch, fishing,
that kinda thing?

- Uh-huh.

- You were...

Nine, maybe ten,

we took that canoe trip
up the St. Lawrence river.

End of summer.

It was beautiful.

And quiet.

We felt we were the only
two people in the world.

One night, a storm
came up out of nowhere

and blew away our
canoe, all our gear.

Knocked trees down. Can
still hear the wind.

We sheltered in a cave.

I told you everything
would be okay.

You believed me.

Then you fell asleep in my arms.

Morning came, the
storm was over.

We hiked out.

- I remember.

We found a diner.

Ate blueberry pancakes.
- There you go.

Love, trust,
happiness, pancakes.

I was a good parent.

- What went wrong?
- I don't know.

Nothing.

Everything.

Shit happens.

Nobody's in control.

- Hmm.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry too.

- What are you sorry for?

- Love isn't enough.

Is it?

- Did you and President
May make any progress

in today's talks?
- No.

And no progress is possible
while the president

continues to deny my people
the right to govern themselves.

- Ms. Khin, yesterday's
attempt on your life

that left one of
your staff dead...

Do you think President
May was behind it?

- I have no doubt the
government of my country

wishes to silence me.
That is all I'll say.

- But if it was President May,

that he would make such an
attempt on British soil...

- Prime Minister Mr. Aziz.

- Alfie, I'm afraid
I'm rather late.

- Where are you keeping her dad?

- Excuse me?

- Oh, that's very good.

- No, no, no, I'm sorry, Alfie.

I truly have no idea what
you're talking about.

- It's very simple.

Ten years ago, her dad vanishes.

She thinks he's dead.
World thinks he's dead.

Only he's not dead.
We've got him.

- It... you're implying that
Her Majesty's government

is illegally and secretly
holding a foreign national?

- Told you it was simple.
- It's preposterous.

Do you have any proof?
- Not a shred.

Except it was me and Daveboy's
unit that snatched him

and gave him to MI6.

But of course you already
knew that, didn't you?

- And have you shared any
of this with Ms. Khin?

- No. I have not.

- Well, for the sake of
argument, if this were true,

why would I have you, of
all people, guard her?

- I don't know.

But whatever game
you're playing,

however you're thinking
of using me, think again.

'Cause after today,
I'm out. I quit.

- All right, Alfie,
you've said your piece.

Now imagine for a moment that
despite being prime minister,

I am not privy to every act
of skullduggery committed

in Her Majesty's name
over the last 30 years.

Imagine

that I chose you
to protect Ms. Khin

solely because of
any person I know,

I thought you the most
likely to keep her safe.

But you must do what
you think is right.

- What was that?

- Mr. Aziz just wanted
to ask about yesterday.

See that you were okay.

You ready to go
back to the hotel?

- Yes.

I have work to do
before tonight.

- Right. We'll go the
back way, it's shorter.

- This doesn't seem to be
the way back to the hotel.

- Scenic route.
- Oh.

I think you're keeping me
from returning to work.

- Me? Never.

Lovely day though.
Shame to be indoors.

- I suppose I could use it

after spending all day with
that viper President May.

- It can't be easy,

especially not when he
tried to have you killed.

- Yeah, well...
fortunately, you were there.

- Right.

- You look guilty, Alfie.
- Me?

Nah.

- You should feel guilty...

Abandoning me at a
crucial time like this.

And all because of a
little thing like sex.

- It's more
complicated than that.

- So tell me.

- Right, come on.

Well, that's England for you.

Lovely day, sun shining,

and then the bleedin'
skies open up.

What's funny?

- When I was at school,

I read all the classic
English novels.

Jane Austen, Thomas Hardy.

And all the characters

were always getting
caught in rain storms.

And when they did,

the things that were
dividing them just...

suddenly wash away.

It was make-believe.

But I loved it.

- In real life,
you just get wet.

- Who do you think he is?

- I don't know,
and I don't care.

I just want him gone.

Your ride's here, mate.

- You are making a
terrible mistake.

I have a wife... my
daughter...

- You think you made a mistake.

- I make a lot of mistakes.

This one I feel I'll live with.

- What was her name?

- How's that?

- When I accused you
earlier of abandoning me,

you said it was complicated.

Usually means another person.

- Not this time.

- So there's no one
you were close to

that you failed to protect?

- Esme.

We were gonna be married.

This was years ago.

Bloke who had it in
for me killed her.

Worst luck she ever
had, meetin' me.

- I'm sorry.

- It's in the past.

- No such thing as the past.

- What's that, Buddhist? I
never understood Buddhists.

- I mean... we
carry it with us.

You want to protect
those around you.

But because of the past,

you're scared if
they get too close...

they get hurt.

So you end up not
letting anyone in.

- And what about you?

- Me?

Ten years ago,

I lost the one person I
loved most in the world.

And I've never been
the same since.

- So how do you get free of it?

- The past?

You don't.

You just learn to live with it.

- I should go alone tonight.

If it's a trap, it's
better it's just me.

- No. I'm going.

- You still don't
trust me, do you?

It's not about trust, Alfie.

I don't have a choice.

- Look.

What I said before,
about quitting...

forget all that.

I'm with you.

- Thank you.

- They should be
calling in a few hours.

- Then we have time to kill.

- Fuck's sake.

- Right. Give it a go.

- Hmm.

Oh, very nice, Professor.

Very nice, indeed.

- Good.
- Ha!

- Welcome back, Bet.

Have a pleasant nap?

- Where am I?

- The office of
the chancellor, me.

For the Raven High
Council in Exile.

- Fuck me, you're a twat.

And I see you've turned yourself

into a Swiss Army knife.

- What I have done, Bet,

is embrace the times
in which we live.

- Course you have.

Twat.

You better not have
harmed that baby.

- Tell me, do you
know the reason

why the Ravens
lost the Civil War?

- Because you betrayed the
only good leader they had?

- Incorrect. Evolution
defeated the Ravens.

Once Gully Troy
ingested Stormcloud

and became Captain Blighty,

being simply human
was not enough.

To rise, to rule,

you had to be more.

- Bloody hell.

Reporting for duty, sir.

- Impressive, no?

Our first test subjects
sort of blew themselves up.

But we kept on.

You are looking at the
soldier of the future.

Soon we will have
an army of them.

And we will sweep over this
land with a purifying fire.

While you have slept,

we have rewritten the
history of England.

But right now,

I need to know how you found us.

- Fine.

I'll tell ya.

I'm MI5.

- Really?

You work for MI5?

- That's right.

Special Agent Sykes.

- And they sent you here?

With a baby?
- Part of me cover.

- Uhh...
- Last chance.

How did you find me?

- Fuck... off.

- Very well.

- 5 quid he blows himself
up before he zaps me.

- Oh, he's not going
to zap you, Bet.

- Don't you fucking dare...
- How did you find me?

- Francis Gaunt.

- Francis Gaunt? Tch. Ah.

Should have taken care of
that old bag years ago.

That is what mercy will get you.

Thank you, Bet.

Go on, then.

- Yes, sir.
- What?

- You fucking bastard!

I'll rip your heart out.
- Yes, yes, yes.

Oh, did I not mention?

I had the baby taken down
to the nursery earlier.

Must have slipped my mind.

- Clever fucking sod, aren't ya?

- You know what they say, Bet.

When you've lost
your sense of humor,

you've lost everything.

- I just needed to know
we weren't in any danger.

Now I do.

Tell the guards to kill
her. Burn the body.

- No.

- You, with me.

- Daveboy?
- Daveboy...

- Oh, hello.

- Is Alfie here?
- Alfie?

- Yes, Alfie. Is he here?

- I don't know. Is he?

- Not that I can see.

- You're not that
bright, aren't you?

- What?

Never mind. Um...

I need to speak with him.
- Who?

- Alfie.

- Oh, is... is he here?

- You sure you're all right?

- Aye, aye, tickety-boo.

- Daveboy?

Will you give this to Alfie?

- To Alfie?

- You won't forget, will ya?

- No, no, no,
I'm... I'm your man.

I'll see that Alfie
gets it. Here.

- You sure?
- Oh, yeah.

- Thanks.

- Righty-o.

- Mum?

You here, Mum?

- Alfie, what you doin'?

- Looking for my Beretta again.
Where'd you hide it this time?

- I didn't think
you'd be home so soon.

- Well, I can't
stay. I'm on a job.

Just came for me gun.

You didn't hide it in
the flour again, did ya?

I told you about that.
Took forever to clean.

- I wish you'd just
called, at least.

- Can you just tell
me where... ah.

There she is.

Hey, lookit. There's
soot all over it.

- Mary?

- Oh, here we go.

- Oh, dear.

- Roger, you remember
my son Alfie.

- Yes.

Good to see you again, Alfie.

- Alfie, where are your manners?

- Right, uh, sorry. Yeah.

Good to see you too, Roger.

So why didn't you phone
my mum back the other day?

- Alfie!
- No.

He's absolutely correct, Mary.

The fact is, I should have.

Fortunately, Mary had
the courage I did not.

It won't happen again.

She's a remarkable woman
and deserves the best.

- Well, I'm glad we
both agree on that.

Right, um, I best
be off. Work.

I'll leave you two...

Well, uh, anyway.

Stop hiding my guns
where they get filthy.

- Get a job where
you don't need a gun.

- Mary, perhaps I should go.

- What, because of Alfie?

He has to get used to
me having a boyfriend.

- Is that...

what I am?

Your boyfriend?

- If you want to be.

- I would.

Very much.

- Well, that's settled then.

Now give us a kiss.

- You okay?

- I'm not entirely sure.

Here.

Now, have you ever
handled one of them...

That's a yes, then.

- It's very dirty.

- My mum had it up the chimney.

- Is that a thing in England?

- It's a thing with
mums. You ready?

Bloody Roger.

- Who's Roger?

- Over there.

- So where's this nursery
my baby got taken to?

Come on.

You're about to
shoot me in the head.

Got to give the
condemned one final wish.

- 'Round the back.

- How do you get there?

- Stand there and shut up.

- This seems to
get a lot of use.

- You want a blindfold?

- No thanks, pet.
It'd make it harder.

- Make what harder?

- This harder.

Hmph.

Now, let's see
about that nursery.

- So what more do you know
about this bloke then?

You said he's an old
mate of your dad's?

- That's what he claims.

That he was my father's comrade

in the early days
of the movement.

- But you don't remember him?

- I wasn't involved at the time.

After my father was gone,
members were hunted down.

Some fled, went underground.

There's many that
I've never met.

- Well, how's he know where
your father's being held?

- He said he's made it
his mission to find out.

He blames himself for
not protecting my father.

- How's that?

- He was with him the
night he was abducted.

- He was there? In Morocco?

- Yeah.

What is it?

- Nothing.

I, um...

All right, lads.

Easy, mate. None of that.

- No guns.
- Come off it.

Course there'll be guns.

You have guns, we have guns.
The reason we all feel safe.

- No guns.

- All right, you're
free to leave...

- Wait.

Please.

One lives in fear for so long,

suspicion becomes second nature.

Please accept our apologies.

Ms. Khin.

It is an honor.

- Thank you for meeting with me.

This is Alfred Pennyworth.

You can trust him.

- We have much to talk about.

Blimey.

- What bloody babies are these?

- John Salts'.

- John Salts'? All of them?

Where's my little Julie?

Where have you put her?

Oh, my little angel.

Hello, pet. I brought Mr. Bear.

How about a smile for Mr. Bear?

One smile?

- You want a smile, Bet?

I'll give you a smile.

Now be a good girl and die.

Uhh...

Now, now, Bet.

The babies are sleeping. Shh.

- Please don't hurt my baby.

- Your baby? But, Bet,
it's not your baby anymore.

It's mine to do
with as I please.

- You'll not hurt my baby.

Not while I'm around.

- Come now, Bet, play nice.

Come here...

- Finally shut you up.

- Did you know my father well?

- We were comrades. Friends.

Which is why I must ask
for your forgiveness.

The night he was taken,
I... I did not protect him.

I chose to live.

- Please.

Where is President
May keeping my father?

- My dear, the president
does not have your father.

- But...
- British soldiers

took your father.

And the British have him still.

- How do you know this?
- I was there.

I saw them. Heard their voices.

The British were behind it all.
- Right.

So by taking my father,

the British can
install their puppet

and keep a hold on the country.

So my father is here
then? In England?

- For the last ten years,

he has been on a secret
prison on the Hebrides.

The government keeps no
record of this prison

or the men held there.

The prisoners receive no trial.

Every sentence is life.

When men die, their names
are not written down.

It is a black hole.

- And how do I get him out?

- You can't. You
would need an army.

- Well, then I'll
just go to the press.

Once the world knows, the
British have to release him.

- Perhaps, or perhaps
they will deny it

then move him to another prison,

and it will be years
before you find him again.

- Then why are you
even telling me this

if there's no hope
of getting him out?

- You're in talks
with President May.

He must want something.

- He wants the
names of our members

who've gone into hiding.
- So offer these names.

And in exchange, demand that
your father be released.

You are right.

The British will not want
their crimes made public,

but that alone is not enough.

You must give them
something. Offer these names.

- So I can free my
father only by betraying

those who trust me?
- It is a hard choice.

But it is either
them or your father.

- Don't believe him.

This smarmy git's
working for Aziz,

getting you to turn
on your own people.

- What?

That is a lie.

- Hey, easy.

I know what I'm talking about.
- He's lying.

He's clearly a British spy
trying to throw suspicion

onto me... he does not wish
to see your father free.

I was your father's friend.

- And what he said about where
your father's bein' held,

I'll investigate it.

But this man was not
your father's friend.

And he's not yours.

- What proof do you have?

- I'm asking you to trust me.

- I remember you now.

Your voice. It was you.

- What is he talking about?
- Nothin'.

This meeting's over.
- How does he know you?

How do you know him?
- Shoot him. Shoot him now.

- Aah!
- Uhh...

- It didn't have to
end this way, mate.

- You.

British soldiers took my father.

- Yes.

- That's how he knows you.

- Exactly.

- It was you.

- I had no idea
who your dad was.

He was just another target.

It wasn't until you started
telling me about him last night

that I put it all together.
That's why I tried to quit.

Look, I'm sorry.

But you still cannot
trust this man.

He was working with us.

He sold your dad out, his
mate. Isn't that right?

- That's a lie.

Shoot him.

- For ten years,

I've imagined what I'd do to
the men who took my father.

How I'd make them pay!
- Now, ask yourself.

How did they get you to England?

Was it the Summit?

Or was it this one

saying he knows where
your dad's being held

and all you have to do is
give up your own people?

You're bein' played.

- Zahra, child.

You must believe I
loved your father.

- Do what you have to do.

- What happened between us...

was that also a lie?

- No. No, that was true.

- And why should I believe you?

How do you live with yourself?

Tomorrow, I want new security.

And I never want
to see you again.

Mummy just needs
to rest a moment.

Get her strength back.

Never you fret.

All will be well. I promise.

I would have loved you
every minute of your life.

And wherever you went,

you'd know your mum loved ya.

She does love ya.

I'm not well.

What am I to do?

- "Deliver to Peg Sykes,
13 George Street."

- Goodbye, little one.

You be good for your Aunty Peg.

Make your mum proud.

She loves ya.

- Daveboy?

- What the fuck have
you done in here?

- The fuck?

I'm sorry, Alfie.

- You all right?
- I... I think I am.

What was all that mad fuss
downstairs a while back?

- Oh, gunfight sort of thing.
- A gunfight, eh?

I would've sworn it
was turtles fucking.

- You must have been drunk.

- No, no, no, no,
no. I don't think so.

The last thing I
remember, I was with Sally

at her poxy art show.

Hey, Alfie, Alfie,
they were only serving

fizzy white wine... Wouldn't
have got a nun pissed.

- That was two days ago.

- Aye?

- You don't remember
our talk yesterday?

About Morocco?
- Why would we be talking

about bloody Morocco?

What the fuck did
that woman do to me?

Yeah, I'd better call her, eh?
- Yeah, you do that.

And then there's
something we need to do.

Listen, it's near
suicidal, and, best case,

we end up doing porridge.
But I need your help.

Well,
that sounds familiar.

I suppose the money's good.
- Hmm.

No money.

- No money?

What the fuck?

- You ever been to the Hebrides?

- Goodbye, Dad.

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