All language subtitles for A.New.Breed.Of.Criminal.2023.1080p.eng

- All I ask is a tall ship
and a star to sail her by.

All I ask is a tall ship
and a star to sail her by.

All I ask is a tall ship
and a star to sail her by.

Is that enough?

Yeah.

- Can I keep this, 'cause
this is written by Richard.

I can frame this, can't I?

Yeah, that's
how it'll all begin.

Hello, Princess.

Billy pass that one.

Shouldn't we do corners?

Shouldn't we do one corner?
- Billy, Billy!

- Do a corner!
- Billy, Billy!

- Yes.
- Here he is.

- Oh God.
- Oh!

Here, give me
ball, here, give me a nice one.

Billy, give
us that one there.

Layton, Layton!

Harry.

- Yes, sir.
- Getting my team sorted out.

We're getting the team sorted.

The small ones are playing.

Billy, Billy!
- Oh!

Come
in the box, lads.

Get that side of him, Billy,
Billy take your hat off.

You wouldn't have
your hat on, son.

Go on, he's in!

Oh, man,
what are you doing?

Tim, get that
ball, play a nice ball.

- Get in!
- Celebrate!

- Celebrate!
- Celebrate!

Defence,
step out again,

so he's got a bit on the edge.

Squish on him.

Go ahead, kick!

Yeah!

Who's the striker?

- Lad up front,
it's Stephen Sayers.

- Where do you
think you're going?

- Away home for my tea.

Don't be
smart with me, son.

You been pinching car
radios again, haven't you?

Say summat then.
- Nee comment.

- Fucking Sayers.

This is
a story, a true one,

but a story nonetheless, the
story of one Stephen Sayers.

Stephen lived with his family
in York Street, Elswick,

it was the beating
heart of Newcastle

and he had an
elder brother, John

and a younger brother, Michael.

Their mother, Yvonne
was a civil servant

and a member of Mensa.

Their dad, John Brian
had a haulage company,

that delivered beer
to the local pubs.

He also owned a scrapyard
on the quayside.

But perhaps most importantly,

I should mention, he was
a very, very good villain.

- What's going on?
- In here, Sarge!

- You are not getting
in here without a WPC.

- We've a warrant to
search these premises

for John Brian Sayers.

She's right though, as usual.

Someone get me a
WPC up here now!

Hello, son, where's your dad?

- No comment.

- What do you
think you're doing?

He's just a bairn, man!

Look, he's not here.

- He can't hide forever, Yvonne.

- He's not here.

- And when that
bastard shows his face,

I'll be there to nick him.

- Just get out of my house.

You're all right,
son, come here.

Okay, okay, all right.

They fascinate a lot of people.

- I heard them last night,
what a racket to make.

- It's like this all the time.

- Really?

- Aye, I'm gonna have to
make another complaint.

- Yeah, you should.

I mean your stress levels
must be through the roof.

Nash, Stephen, move.

- Imagine how many sweets
we could get with that.

- How much do you
think there is?

- About three million, we could
even buy Newcastle United!

The boys'
mother only ever wanted them

to have a proper education.

- Be gentle with them,
John, they're only bairns.

But their father
wanted them to be streetwise.

- Gentle, you think the bizzies

are gonna be gentle with them?

Hello, lads.

Got my bag?

Have you had a look in it?

Aye, we did.

- Where's our cut?

- Your cut, experience
is your cut.

All right?

- You two, you've got chores
to do around the house.

- And? What about Michael?
- He's doing his homework.

- Oh, that's not fair,
he always gets off.

- Come on.

Every day,
there would be a new test.

Pass that test, well, they'd
get the back of his hand.

They'd call that a result.
Why, you might ask?

- What the fuck's going on here?

- Your dinner's in the oven,
kids are doing their homework.

- Homework?

Homework?

It's not fucking homework
these needs, man,

it's street experience.

- It's got to be
in for tomorrow.

Well, if you
failed one of his tests...

well, it just didn't
bear thinking about.

- Good lads, never put your
fingerprints on anything

the bizzies can get a hold of.

What do you say if
a bizzy stops you?

No comment.

- That's enough, John.

No!

No!

Don't fucking hit me!

Does it make it you
feel like a fucking man?

Uh, uh, uh!

Uh!

They spent
many a night in that kennel

as they watched their father

take out his drink-fueled
temper on their mother.

That kind of thing
traumatises you,

it stays with you for life.

But seeing those beatings
hardened those boys,

they formed a stronger bond.

Nobody would ever hurt
the Sayers boys again.

Looking back, of course,
they never stood a chance.

- Get the kettle on,
Yvonne, I'm parched.

They were only
ever going to take one path.

- Where's your dad,
is he not up yet?

- Sleeping it off.
- Morning, boys.

- And ah, how did you get that?

Walked into a door?

- Something like that.

- Look, seriously, do you want
me to say something to him?

- No, there's no point.
- Who's coming with me?

Stephen
loved those days

working with his Uncle
Albert, early to rise

and after a quick breakfast,

it would be down into the
town to set up their pitch.

He loved the smells, the noise

and the hustle of the city life.

And once the store was set up,

Stephen would keep
watch for the Old Bill.

- This is perfect, are
you this man's wife?

Try that and see what
you think of that.

One Old
Bill in particular,

affectionately known as
the Lanky Streak of Piss

delighted in nicking
some of the old boys,

who thought because
of time served,

they didn't need a permit.

- Aye, I bet they're worth
they're weight in gold.

- How fucking rude.

- Sorry, madam, look, you
can have that for a fiver,

he's a cheeky bugger.

Let out on the street, I'll
tell you, thank you very much.

And Sayers
was the only name.

- Heads up!
- He was determined to have

in his little notebook.
- Your cash, Uncle.

- Christmas box, aye.
- Stop!

- What do you
think you're doing?

- Can I be of
assistance, Officer?

- Licence please, Mr. Sayers?

- Licence, Officer?

- Your street trading
licence, Mr. Sayers.

- I think you're
mistaken, Officer.

I've got no money with me
and these are not for sale.

- What are these?

- Well, they're gifts for
my family, the Sayers,

you might've heard of us,
you know, we're a big family.

- I wasn't born
yesterday, Mr. Sayers

and I know a wrong'un when I
see one, go on, on your way.

He
might not have been

the top of his class at school,

but Stephen was getting a
great education on the street.

He started with car radios,
a very good place to start,

then he moved on to
the cars themselves.

Well, makes for a quicker
getaway, doesn't it?

Stephen started to
spend a lot more time

down at the scrapyard, his
mother and father split up,

he'd moved in with another woman

with a ready made
family and that hurt.

Spending time at that scrapyard

was the only way he
would see his dad.

- You should be at school.

What you took on that car?
- Sold the battery

from the Escort and I
sold the Cortina too.

- We haven't got a Cortina.

Have you been
choring cars again?

- And where's the Jag gone?

- Sold that too.

- That was my car, you
stupid, little bastard!

With
money in his pockets,

it wasn't long before
the bright lights

of Newcastle's nightlife
pulled Stephen in,

like a moth to a flame.

- Yeah, I think that's an
enough for tonight, mate.

- Don't be fucking silly.
- You fucking joking?

I only wanna
get in the fucking pub.

- What are you
swearing at me for?

- 'Cause I fucking want to.
- Eh?

I'm in
here every fucking night.

- No, but I haven't
told you anything, mate.

Do you know
who you're talking to,

you fucking idiot?
- No, I don't actually.

- Eh?
- You're the fucking idiot!

- Come on then!
- You bastard!

- Fuck off!
- You cunt!

You cunt!
- Fucking give him it!

You think
you're hard, do you?

Give him it!

See you later, you fuck-
- Do you want some too?

Fuck take it, fuck you!

You fucker, fuck you!

- You fucking
think you're tough?

Fucking shite, let's see it!

Oi, cunts!

Aye, it is you, go on,
Stephen, go on, lads.

I didn't know
you'd left school, huh, yeah?

- Do it!
- Yeah?

- Get him!
- Come on then, do it.

Get in the car, Stephen, get in!

- So what did you see,
anything, anything at all?

Did you see them speeding?
Whatever you can remember.

You just have to
tell us what's wrong.

It's, it's, it's.

- What?

It's my chips.

This was
not his finest hour,

arrested on a hospital trolley
with two sprained ankles.

The next stop, Pilgrim
Street Police Station.

- Come on, lad, what are you
doing down there? Get up.

- Do you wanna take them off
him before someone gets hurt?

- Good point.

- And help him up, would you?

Name and date of birth?

Name and date of birth?

Strong, silent type, eh?

Help him downstairs, we'll
let you sleep it off.

We'll try again in the morning.

- Sarge, Sarge, help,
he's attacked us!

- All right, lad,
you've had your fun.

Lock him up.

Stephen,
Tom and Joe were charged

with GBH and ABH with intent.

- Will the accused please stand?

They would
spend a month on remand

and were tried at Kenton
Bar Court six months later.

Tom was a few years older
than Stephen and Joe,

so got a two stretch.

Next up was Joe
who got six months,

and our Stephen?

Well, he got his first taste
of porridge in Borstal.

- What have we here then?

Another little toerag
from the West End?

What's your name?

Didn't you hear me, boy,

What is your name?

- Try that again, I'll do you.

Uh!

Perhaps
you're wondering

why he didn't tell
him what happened.

Screw or no screw,
Stephen was no grass.

Borstal was designed to give
you a short, sharp shock,

you certainly weren't
supposed to enjoy it,

but that's exactly what
Stephen did, he loved it

and over the next couple of
years, he was in and out again

quicker than you could
say, "No comment, Sarge."

He made a few friends along
the way, one was a lad

from a place called
Southbank in Middlesborough

and that lad, by all
accounts knew how to fight.

- Any last words?

Aye, goodnight.

Thanks, mate.

I owe you one.

My name's Stephen Sayers.

- I know who you are,
pal, I'm the Duffer.

- Stephen.

- Frankie, how are
you doing, cuz?

- Good to see you,
mate, long time, no see.

- Blame the judge for that.

- Now I'm under strict
instructions to take you

straight to the bar
to see your family.

- I could do with a
little livener first.

How's that?

♪ Freedom

♪ Freedom

- So what have I
missed then, Frankie?

- Nothing at all, Stephen,

same shit different
day round here.

- Good to see you.
- And you.

- Frankie.
- Looking well, bro.

- Not half as good as you.

- When you get yourself
five minutes, I need a word.

Every firm
needs a good card-marker

and these lads
definitely had one.

- Lads.
- All right, Mick,

how's tricks?

- I've got us a good little
bookie doing very well,

if you're interested.
- How many handed?

- It's an easy one,
two-handed gaff,

he leaves five o'clock
every Saturday,

he's as good as clockwork
and he gets his case

and he puts it on
the passenger seat.

Let's do it.

If that
decade saw Stephen

serve his apprenticeship
as a villain,

the one that followed
saw him and his brothers

climb to the top of
the tree, the very top.

But of course, what goes up.

A pop and seize could bag them

anything up to 12
large on a good day.

At times, it was like
taking candy from a baby.

As quick as they were making
money, they were spending it.

These were young Geordie lads
and they loved a night out,

like moths to a flame, remember?

With drink came drugs,

with money came women.

It was a lifestyle they enjoyed

and so they realised they
needed a bigger and better way

of funding that lifestyle.

Get out of the van!

- Stay in the fucking van!
- Cunt.

Get
the out of the van

and throw your fucking keys out!

Tell them
to open that door

or I'm gonna blow
your fucking head off!

Fuck.

Time, time, time!

The wages were good

and the hours weren't
too bad either

and they say practise
makes perfect.

- If you lads pull this off,

you're gonna go down in history.

- Where's it at?

Sunderland.

- You're talking about the
Post Office, aren't you?

- Yep.

- How much are we looking at?

- Maybe more.

- Fucking hell!

- When, when?

- It'll be next week.
- Next week.

- It doesn't give
us much time, that.

Doesn't that van
have a police escort?

- Yeah, it's supposed to,
but I've been watching it

for the past few weeks
and I'm telling you,

they're getting lazy.
- What do you mean?

- Well, they're supposed
to follow the van

right the way back to the depot,

but for the past three weeks,

they've been tailing
off at the bridge.

- Why?

- Donuts.

- Eh?
- Right,

there's a mobile cafe, if
you turn left at the bridge,

where they've been going
to get coffee and donuts,

instead of turning right
and following the van.

- What about the depot?

What about it?

There's one gate between
you lads and the prize,

you just need to
get through them.

- How do we know when to strike?

- I've got a spot across the
road, like a vantage point.

You just need somebody
there with a radio

to give you the heads up.

So,

what yous thinking?

- Let's do it.

12th of
August, Stephen's birthday

and one he would remember
for all the right reasons.

It's the 12th August, you're
listening to Alan Robson here

on GCFC. We go now live
to Detective Jeff Scott

who's leading the investigation
into the spate of armed

robberies on Tyneside. Thanks
for joining us Detective Scott

what can you tell us?

- An armed robbery took
place on Tyneside today,

the perpetrators making off

with a substantial
amount of cash.

The raid was carried out
with split second timing

and what can only be described
as military precision.

We're appealing for
people to come forward,

who may have seen the
incident take place.

We are dealing with a
new breed of criminal.

Good morning and ah, welcome
to our daily briefing.

So, are we any further forward
on yesterday's robbery?

- We have done a
thorough forensic search
of the Range Rover

but found no prints or
anything of significance, sir.

- Witnesses, anybody talking?

- The robbers were masked up,
boiler suits, local accents

and they were in and out,

very organised,
military precision.

- This has Sayers'
fingerprints all over it.

Look, if we don't put
a stop to this now,

then the streets of
Newcastle are gonna become

like the streets of New York
and I won't have that here,

not on my watch.

- So sir, where do
you suggest we start?

- Iceton.

Sir, there's a lady
on the front desk,

says she can identify
one of the robbers.

Thank you for agreeing to
go through this ordeal.

I appreciate how stressful
this must be for you.

- It's okay.

- So I have pictures of
six men here on screen.

They all look very similar
in build and in look,

I just need you to tell me
if the man you saw that day

is pictured here
on screen, okay?

So please take as much time

as you need, okay.

Just walk through it.

Okay, just take your time.

Have you reached a decision?

- That one.

John Henry Sayers, I'm arresting
you for the armed robbery

at Sunderland Post Office Depot.

You have a right to remain
silent, but anything you do say

may be taken down
and used in evidence.

- Okay, ah, so, ah,

for the benefit of the
tape, it is 11 a.m.,

the 14th of September.

Present are myself,
Detective Scott

and also Detective Iceton.

Could you confirm your
name for me please?

- John Henry Sayers.

- Your date of birth?
- 25th of September.

- Now before we start,

would you like a glass
of water, Mr. Sayers?

Uh!

- No, thank you.

- So shall we start
with your whereabouts

on the 12th of
August, Mr. Sayers?

- No comment.

- Hello.

Who is it?

All right, cuz, I'll
see you in five minutes.

- Who was it?

Is everything all right?

- Our John's been lifted.

- So what you doing?

- Gotta go, pet.

- When will I see you again?

- When everything quietens down.

- Are they looking for you like?

- Aren't they always?

Love you.

Love you too.

With
John locked up,

it was only a matter of time

before they came for Stephen

and so he weren't hanging
about like a sitting duck.

- Our Stephen,
it's been a while.

- I need a roof over my
head for a couple of nights,

can you help us out?

- Aye, you can stay
here, you know,

you're more than welcome,
stay as long as you want.

- Can you still get a
hold of them passports?

- What, for like a holiday?
- Aye, something like that.

I could do with a bit
of sun on my back.

- Leave it with us,
leave it with us.

In fact, get yourself in there
now, get washed, get ready,

got some entertainment tonight.

- Entertainment?

- Aye, entertainment.

- All right, mate.

Ticket
please, mate.

- No, no, mate, he's with me.

- You must be Stephen?

- Yeah, that's me.

I've been
asked to give you this.

- Ladies and gents,
welcome to the ring

your Bare Knuckle
Champion, Big Phil!

And his challenger
today, Mad Mickey!

Riley, you're in the red,

Shaw, you're in the blue.

Come on, Phil!

- No, in your face, in your
face, stop, stop, stop!

Go on.

Fight, fight!

- Go on, go on, Mickey!
- Ooh!

Stephen's
cousin, Frankie

had arrived a day earlier,

sun, sand, Sangria and spliffs.

Tenerife was Stephen's
kind of place

and he was gonna
make the best of it.

Like I say, he weren't
gonna be no sitting duck.

- Here you are, clear this.

Good shot, son.

Where's the black going?

- Good luck, son.

- I'm on next.

- Well, put your name
on the board, Walter,

same as everybody else.

Good lad.

- Do what, mate?
- Are you Mutton Jeff, son?

He said put your
name on the board.

No.

- Nitto, cuz, nitto.

- I'll give you a
lesson in this game,

you fucking Geordie maggot.

- Is that right?

Tell you what,

let's spin for it.

Heads or tails?

- Heads.

Uh!

- It's tails.

Bother inside, lads.

- It was fucking
murder man in there.

It was a lesson
learned for Cockney Ed.

He took Stephen's
politeness for a weakness

and he learned the hard way,

but instead of
looking for revenge,

he came back with a white
flag and a proposition.

- Any news on Stephen Sayers?

- Disappeared into
thin air, boss.

- Great, so we can add magician
to his fucking resume now.

- Word on the street is
he's headed to the Costas.

- Where?
- Spain.

- Who does he think
he is, Ronnie Biggs?

- Any progress with John?

- No, he's sitting tight, he
knows we've got nothing on him.

- Now what?

- We need more evidence,

or we're gonna have to
let him go.

What do
you fucking want?

- Mate, sit down, tranquilo,
I don't want no problems.

I've come here to apologise,

I was bang out of
order yesterday.

- Do you want some breakfast?

- I'll have a white
coffee, no sugar.

Sharon!

Can I have two
coffees please, pet?

- How long you boys here for?

- We're not planning
on going anywhere,

if that's what you're thinking.

- Why like, London,
what's on your mind?

- Look, I know we got
off on the wrong foot,

but I wanna make it right.

- How were you
planning doing that?

- There's someone
I'd like you to meet,

7 p.m. Irish bar, Main Street.

- See you there.

You see that fucking bloke
down that bar last night?

He'd been in it, the Winchester,

he was fucking singing all the
fucking best tunes, Sinatra.

- It's a canny voice actually.
- He's called the Godfather

of Swing, you know.
- What a chucker,

what a chucker, what a day.

- Honestly.
- Good turn, mate.

- He's a fucking good turn,
aye, he was fucking sweating.

Oh, hold on, look lively,
lads, they're here.

Take that fucking phone, cuz.

- Evening, Mr. Sayers, my
name's Pat, this is Tony.

- Wagwan.

- You might not know who we
are, but we know who you are.

Oh, I know who you lads
are, I'm just a busy man.

What are you lads wanting?

- Look, we want to introduce
you into the future mate.

- This is the new ecstasy.

We've got kids going
crazy for this stuff

and we've built a very lucrative
business supplying Essex

with these and we're looking
to expand nationally.

- Are you lads sure?

- Yeah, mate, we're very sure,

we are about to enter
a new summer of love.

- To put it simply, Stephen,

whoever controls
the supply of pills,

controls the success
of the clubs.

And with that in mind,

I'd like to discuss with you
a commercial arrangement.

- So if this is the
future, what's the deal?

It's your lucky
day.

- We have a very
good supply network,

but I can supply all
your doors in Newcastle,

using our existing
established network.

- Just tell us what you
want and when you want them.

- Mates' rates?

Wye aye, man.

- These are selling
for 20 quid each,

I can supply you at five
pound each in bags of 5,000.

Would you like to control the
doors of Newcastle, Stephen?

- Oh, I already do.

- And do you wanna
keep it that way?

- Let me make a few phone
calls and I'll get back to you.

Maybe I could treat you do a
bit of Geordie hospitality?

- Sounds good to me.

- Excuse me, lads,
I've gotta get that.

Hello?

Go on.

Haway then.

- Brilliant.

When?

- Give us a couple of days,

I've got a couple of
loose ends to tie up.

Okay,
I'll let her know.

- Tell my mam I love her
and I'll see John soon.

See you later, Michael.

So we got a deal?

- We've got a deal.

- I think that deserves
a toast, don't you, Tone?

- New beginnings!
- New beginnings!

New beginnings!

Are you sweet, cuz?

- Yeah.
- Yeah?

- Our John's coming home.

No, fucking cushty!

That deserves a toast.

Cuz.

Cuz.

- Where's our Tony?

- Passed out with a hooker.

Not
that Jeanine again, is it?

- I don't think he realises
that the point of a brass

is you can have a
different one each night.

- Aye, to be fair, like, I
wouldn't touch her with yours.

Aye.

Long way from York Street now.

- Aye, who would've thought it?

- Do you ever think about it?

About what?

- Well, getting out.

- The only person I'm
thinking about pulling out

is our Tony, imagine a
bairn between them two.

- You'd just take one look
at the poor, little fucker

and you'd know, wouldn't you?
- Know what?

- Should've been a blowjob.

- Listen, joking aside, we're
just getting started, Frankie,

this deal, this really is
the start of the big time.

- I know, I know.

I was just thinking,

do you think we're, do you
think we're getting, what if-

- What?

What if we're
getting out our depth?

- We rule, Frankie.

We say how high,
how low, how deep.

We're a new breed of criminal.

This place, it's never seen
the like of the Sayers.

- Donna, aren't yous
two trying for bairns?

- Aunt Vera's already
got the names picked.

You won't believe who she think
is gonna be the godfather.

- Haway man, cuz, I'm
trying to be serious.

- So am I,

deadly serious.

Donna, John,

Michael, my mam and dad,

Vera, Uncle Albert,

they're the ones what
we're doing this for,

otherwise what have we got?

That,

without family, it's
just a building.

Family's everything.

- You know,

I look at them
losers in the gutter,

scratching around in
the dirt all week,

for what, pennies?

- But then there's us.

What would you rather have?

Family.

- Hello, son.

- Hello, Dad, how are you?

- I'm good, how are you?

You're looking great?
Yeah, your ma's here.

- Mum.
- Son.

Oh, look at you.

I didn't want all this
fuss, your dad insisted.

Any excuse for a drink.

- Some things never change, eh?

Is our Stephen back?

- Yes, this morning, he
should be here in a minute.

- You ladies fancy a drink?

Ah, the
prodigal son returns.

Michael, how are you, man?

I'm cush, I'm cush.

Do you want a drink?

- I'll have a double vodka.

- No bother.
- Where's my mam?

- She's over there, go and see
her, I'll get the drinks in.

- Oh.
- Hello, Mam.

- Oh, look at you,
you're looking well.

My, the sun's done you the
world are good. Thanks Mom.

Me dad here?

- Oh, propping the
bar up as usual.

- Oh aye, I can see him.

- Is Donna not with you.

- Ah, she's not
feeling too well.

- We've missed you.

- I know.

- Well listen,

I'm gonna say the same to
you as I've said to our John.

Oh listen man,
it's good to stop.

- What Mam?

- You know what?

How can I take the stress?

You know, get in the back door

belted in every week
and police rifling

through me underwear drawer.

There's only one way that
this is gonna go, Stephen.

No happy ending to the life

that you three have
chosen, you know.

Haway.

Please think about
it, man. For me.

- Hola, Senor Sayers.

- John, how are you?

- I'm alright. How are you?

- Good. How was it in there?

- Nout I couldn't handle.

How was Spain?

- Hotter than our
Philip's caravan.

- Here you go, lads.

- Cheers. Just turn that
television down please.

Ladies and gentleman, please,
can I have your attention?

Can you all raise your
glass to me brothers,

they've just come home today.

John, Stephen.

Cheers mate.

- John and Stephen.
- Cheers.

- Cheers!
- Cheers.

- Give me two minutes,
Stephen, I need to wee.

The taxi here?

- My lift's here. I've gotta
go and see John and Michael.

- I thought we're
going out together.

- All right, Donna,
you know how it is.

- Oh I know exactly how it is.

You've been sunning
it up in Spain

whilst I've been stuck
here in the pissing rain

making ends meet.

And the first day home you
were away outta the lads.

- I'll not be late.

- Oh you'll not be getting in.

- Donna! Donna!

- Three?

- Cheers, Vic.

- So what was
Tenerife like then?

- I saw the future.

- Oh aye. What's that then?

- These.

- What are these?

- A new breed of ecstasy.

Newcastle's not gonna
know what's hit it.

Michael.

- What do they do exactly?

The new summer
of love was upon them

and they were gonna
make more money

than they had ever had before.

Alright boys!

There you are, mate.
- Good seeing you.

- I've got a lovely
parcel for you-

- Are these the same
as the last batch, Ed?

- Mate, different buzz.

Fucking absolutely bang
on. Called Mitzy's Revenge.

- Mitzy's Revenge?
- Yeah.

Like the old Mitsubishi car.

They were finally
at the top of that tree

and things were
going well for them.

But the police?

They were never going
to let that last.

Not in a thousand years.

- Tommy, it's Vic.
We've got a problem.

The police have told
me they don't want

any of the sales
on our premises.

Our licences are up for
renewal in a couple of weeks.

If we don't comply, we
got a bigger problem.

Gimme a call.

I don't want any dealers
in here from now on.

That includes the
Sayers. Do you hear me?

- Are you sure?

- I said do you hear me?

You fucking deaf?

- These people are
fucking dangerous Vic.

- They're not the mafia.

They're a family of Westenders
who think they run Newcastle.

Well they fucking don't.

They're a couple of jumped up,

jack the lads out
of their depth.

They think they're big
fish in a little pond.

Well it's my pond.

They wanna play?

Come in. The water's lovely.

- Don't say I didn't warn you.

- What's happened
to yous two like?

- What's happened?

We got knocked back from
fucking everywhere last night,

didn't we?

- Aye, we got to the club.

Vic bashed wor and he took all
our fucking gear, the cunt.

- Aye, and he's done the same

with the rest of the
fucking lads and all.

- It's nee good for
businesses this like.

- Nah, and now all our regulars

are going fucking
elsewhere mate.

- Did he say why we're
getting knocked back?

- Aye, 'cause of Vic.

- I'll tell you what
we're gonna do the cunt

for this, me like.

- You just leave
it to me, Tommy.

We've got a problem.

- Go on.
- Vic.

- Vic?

- Aye, he's barred us
and all of our lads

from all of his bars in town.

- On whose instruction?

- The bizzies is
what I'm hearing.

He's told all the managers
that their licences are at risk

unless they start
playing the game.

And he's got Vic to
crack down on us.

- Fucking sly bastards.

So what do we do?

- We send a little
message of our own.

Are you still pals with
that lad from Teeside?

- Duffer?
- Aye, that's him.

- Get him on the phone.

Let's see what Vic and
his boys are made of, eh?

- Did you book the taxis, eh?

- Aye. Aye she's got two coming.

- Where we off?

- Top end of town.

- Aye, going to Vics gather?

- Cushty, I'm on a
promise tonight lads.

Aye, with your furry glove.

- Two taxis outside.

- All right, lads.
- That's us.

Shouldn't be
doing that in here, lads.

- Aye, who the fuck are you?

- Doesn't matter who I am.

So, Duffer, what brings
you to Newcastle?

- Thought there was
a party going on man.

- Well there is now.

- Yeah. Do you fancy coming
down to Vic's tonight with wor.

- Yeah, will I. Ready
when you are, pal.

- Not tonight lads.

- What do you mean not tonight?

- I've been tell not to
let you and your family in.

- By who?

- Aye, by who?

- Doesn't matter who, yous
aren't getting in, right.

- Get fucking Vic here now.

- Yeah.

What problem?

- I told you this
isn't gonna work.

One of us is gonna
end up getting topped.

- What happened?

- They showed up with a
lad called the Duffer.

You heard of him?

- Boro?
- Aye that's him.

Big lad with a big
punch to match and all.

- Where are they now?

- I don't know, but that
Duffer's looking for you.

- Be at Portofino's
if you need me.

It was
only a matter of time

before someone else
decided to take matters

into their own hands with Vic.

And one person was about
to make their move.

- Franco.

- Welcome back, sir.
- Grazie, grazie.

- Vic, how are you doing?

Good to see you mate.
- Good to see you.

- Things okay in London?

Tutto è bene

This is Sergio a friend
of mine, Sergio, Vic.

You're gonna have
something to eat, eh.

Franco will look after you.

- Thank you.

- Enjoy, Enjoy.

- Good to see you.
- And you. And you.

- Vic.

- You having a drink.

- Solito.
- Of course.

- Beer for me please.

- And can I get you
anything to eat?

- Steaks. The usual?

- Perfezione.
- Of course, Sir.

- Perfezione.

- You're looking
kinda stressed, mate.

- Do I?

- I heard there was a
bother out at the club

with the Sayers and that Duffer.

Are the lads all right?

- All quiet on
the western front.

- Good.

Vic! Vic!

Ah, there you are.
Stand up cunt!

Did I fucking stutter?
I said stand up cunt.

- Nice and easy. Nice and easy.

- Move now.

Get in the fucking back.

- Nice and calm, Ron.
Nice and calm mate.

- Get over there.

Move!

Fuck!

Fuck!

Ron!

- Stay with me!

I need help here, I need help.

- Fucking get down!

Get on your front.

Back up now, we need
back up. Back up.

- So was this man known to you?

Any particular reason that
he'd treat you in this manner?

- Why don't you fucking ask him.

- Oh we will down
at the station.

- Franco.

Grazie, grazie.

Are you done with me?

For
the time being we are.

- Good. 'Cause I'm fucking off.

Even his
doormen weren't safe.

This was a war

and Vic could only see
one way to get out of it.

Sugar?

- No.

- So what's this
all about then, Vic?

- I don't wanna be looking
over my shoulder, Stephen.

I don't like it.

It makes me unhappy.

Do you understand what
I'm saying to you?

I want peace and tranquillity.

- On the doors of
Newcastle, like?

- On mine. Yes.

- You see your problems
not just from me, Vic,

you've upset a lot of
people, taken liberties.

Stopped people making money.

- They're your people,
they'll listen to you.

- How about a fight?
Winner takes all.

- What, you and me?

- Any one of your men.

- And you? Fancy yourself?

- Any one of your
men and the Duffer.

You win. We stay away.

The Duffer wins, it's
business as usual.

I'll give you some take
to think about that.

- So we got three
shootings in as many weeks

on both sides of the water.

It's only a matter of time

before we have a
murder on our hands.

- So what do they
all have in common?

- They're all doormen.

They're all connected to Vic.

- Do you think the
Sayers are behind this?

- Vic stops their dealers
getting into the pubs and clubs.

Their doormen start
getting kneecapped.

I don't think you need your
guy Spender to solve this one.

- So now what?

- We gotta change tack.
- Meaning?

- We gotta hit them where
it hurts 'em the most.

- Vic, what can I do for you?

- I've got a problem.

I was hoping you
could help me with it.

- Alright, what's your problem?

- Duffer.

- Stephen.

- Duffer wants a straightener.

Winner takes all.

I can get the venue
and I can promote it.

- I don't want any more
of my boys getting hurt.

- What?

I'm not gonna fight him.

That's why I'm here
talking to your dad,

so he can sort it for me.

- Too much for you like.

- I can make a phone call.

Hello, it's John.

I've just had that
Vic round here.

No son, he's gone.

But he asked me to
pass on a message.

Doesn't wanna fight you, son.

No problem. Cheers then.

That's done.

The fight
between Vic and the Duffer

never took place.

They led parallel
lives and well,

they both paid a heavy
price in the end.

Duffer was stabbed to
death in the street.

And as for Vic,

he was shot dead, bleeding
out into the gutter.

After all, you can't
fight a bullet.

- So Tommy, let me tell
you where we're at.

We have found a substantial
amount of class A drugs,

two weapons with enough
ammo to shoot a Western

and 50 grand in cash.

All in your humble abode.

So I am either sitting
here with Newcastle's

answer to Tony Montana

or you are mixed up with
some pretty serious people.

- Nee comment.

- You're looking at a big
stretch for the drugs alone,

Tommy, you sure you
wanna go no comment?

- I said no comment.

- How are you feeling Tommy?

Drug's starting to wear off yet?

No?

You know what it's gonna
be like in a few hours.

It's all right on the outside.

You could just get another hit.

But you can't do that in here.

Unless...

- So shall shall we start again?

Why don't you tell us
everything you know

about the Stephen Sayers?

- Hello John.

Have you seen the news?

When you're back?

Right? I'll see you first thing.

- How are you?

- I've had better days.

- That bad, eh?

- Have you not seen the news?

We're being wiped out man.

Cash, stock, staff,
the fucking lot.

- It was always gonna happen.

- I mean it. We've got fuck all.

- Well it's a good job I've
got something lined up then.

Big earners
don't just happen.

Once you are happy
with the graft,

you need to pick your
team very, very carefully.

Then you need to take a
look at the job yourself.

- Right? So what's
the SP, on or off?

Are we going to work or what?

- Didn't look good at first.

- Police escort.
- Every week.

- But the graft's ours.

- Aye, go on.

Once the cash
arrives, the security come out

and they wedge the door open.

- Now it's not a security door.

So we can smash
through it, no bother.

- And there's no
security inside.

- And what's the prize,
what we looking at?

- Seven figures.

- If we pull this off we
can buy Newcastle United.

- Did you got that
safe house sorted?

- Sweet cuz, aye. My pals
taking his bird to Benidorm,

so I've got the twirls,
won't get any aggravation.

Sweet.

- Let's go to work then boys.

Let's do it.

- Get on the floor. Now!

Don't fucking move.

Don't fucking move.

Don't fucking move!

- Yes, yes, go on.

- Stay right there.

Don't fucking move.

- Time! Time! Time!

- We did it.

- Let's get inside.

- Oh fucking hell.
The bulb's gone.

- Use a torch man.

- Michael, you've got yours.

- Aye, Aye.

- How much do you
reckon there is.

- Six figures.

Easy.

The
estimated haul that night

was just over 3 million pounds.

They had done it.

They pulled off the big one,

but alas they would never
get to spend a penny of it.

- Oh.

Oh, the little bastards.

Oh.

Hello, police?

Yes, yes.

I'd like to report a
burglary at my dad's house.

Yes, they're still there.

I can see their torches,
the little bastards.

How do I know it's burglars?

Because me dad's on
holiday and Benidorm, man.

With informants
coming out of the woodwork,

cashing in their information
on them in exchange for drugs

and witnesses coming forward.

Well, they were on a one way
ticket to the old Bailey.

They never stood a chance.

- Would the defendants and
the foreman of the jury,

please stand.

Gentlemen, we have allowed
you the courtesy of allowing

your family into
what is essentially a
closed court hearing.

How do you find the
defendant, John Henry Sayers,

guilty or not guilty?

- Guilty.

- How do you find the
defendant, Michael Sayers,

guilty or not guilty?

- Guilty.

- How do you find the
defendant, Stephen Sayers,

guilty or not guilty?

- Guilty.

- Take them down.

The trial against the notorious
Sayers brothers for armed

robbery has concluded
today with heavy sentences

handed down by Judge Mike
Hodges, John Henry Sayers was

given fifteen years while
Stephen and Michael Sayers were

each sentenced to ten years.

Our crime corespondent

Clare Barber was present
for the press conference

after the verdict
where Detective Scott
had this to say...

- Claire.

- Detective Scott,

you must be happy with the
sentences handed down today.

- The Sayers and
people like them

believe that they
are beyond the law,

which most of us look
to for protection.

I guess they just found
out how wrong they were.

For the last two years,

we have cracked down
on so-called hard
men like the Sayers.

We have made strenuous
efforts to reduce

not only the volume of
crime in the force area,

but also to target organised
crime and the insidious nature

of these offences, which
affect not only the individual,

but also the business
community, in the form of drugs,

violence, extortion,
and protection rackets.

And I can assure you that we
will continue to target those

trading on fear and
violence in order

to enhance their
criminal reputations.

- How are you?

- Yeah, not too bad.

You the, I'm guessing you're
the new starter today.

- Yeah. Yeah.

Literally just came through
all the sign ins and security,

it's a bit manic.

- Quite a bit to it, isn't it?
- Yeah.

It's all good.

- So what I thought we'll do
today is I'll show you around,

that's my job today
and then as we go

if you got any questions
I'm happy to answer.

- What's in there?

- That's the workshop.

- Can we see it?

- Not tonight, no.
- Why?

- Mr Kray's in
session there tonight

and you just don't
disturb him on Tuesdays.

- Cheers lads.

- To you and yours
from me and mine.

I just
want to thank you boys

for looking out for me.

- It's been our
pleasure Charlie.

- I should be moving on soon.

And I want to ask you a favour.

- Name it.

- Don't make the same mistake
that me and my brothers done.

You can't beat the system.

If you try.

Well, they'll just lock you up.

And if you try,

they'll throw away the key.

Best advice
anybody gave him that,

must have been because
he actually listened.

That's the thing
about being a Kray,

people sit up and listen.

They hang on your every word.

And who says crime films
can't have a happy ending?

Not always, but sometimes.

Just sometimes.