All language subtitles for Atomic.Blonde.2017.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+5.1.H.264-SiGMA.en

East and West

do not mistrust each other
because we're armed.

We're armed because
we mistrust each other.

Mr. Gorbachev,

tear down this wall.

James fucking Gascoigne.

How did you find me?

Maybe you're not as good
at this spy shit as you think.

It was Satchel, wasn't it?

Satchel gave me up.

I always thought,
if I got tagged,

it would be by the best.

But you're not the best,
are you, Bakhtin?

You're the biggest fucking cunt
in the KGB.

Sticks and stones, Jimmy.

That's a nasty black eye.

Where's C?

Given the scale
of recent world events,

C will not be joining us.

Yes, of course.

The voices on record
are the following:

myself, Senior Directorate
Officer Eric Gray;

our American guest,
Emmett Kurzfeld

of the U.S.
Central Intelligence Agency;

and returning
British Operational Officer

Lorraine Broughton.

Before we begin, sir,
may I formally request

that Mr. Kurzfeld be removed

- from the debriefing.
- Request denied.

What I have to tell you, sir,
is not for the CIA to hear.

Lorraine, you are the subject
of this debriefing,

- not its controller.
- I understand that.

I was there, in Berlin.

And I'm here with the full
executive authority of Langley.

If it'd make you
more comfortable,

I could stand behind the mirror
with everybody else.

But it's a little crowded
back there.

Cocksucker.

What did you say?

I didn't say anything.

I'm sorry. Did you say
something, Lorraine?

Did you hear me say something?

- I thought you said something.
- What did she say?

What?

Well...

do you want
to play the tape back?

Well, then...

Shall we begin?

Berlin.

What happened?

Yeah.

Berlin.

Fuck.

Ah. Lorraine.

Sorry to bring you in
on such short notice.

You know C.

- Yes.
- We were just going over your file.

I see your Russian is excellent.

An expert in escape and evasion.

Proficient
in intelligence collection

and hand-to-hand combat.

It's an impressive set
of skills.

Knowing the Reds as I do,

she'll need to use
every damn one of them.

I'll get straight to the point.

How well do you know
James Gascoigne?

Enough to say hello.

We worked together

- in Istanbul in '85.
- He's dead.

Gascoigne was killed last night
on a mission in Berlin.

The West German Police

fished his body out
of the Spree this morning.

And the coroner extracted
a 7.62 Tokarev round

from the base of his skull.

Soviets.

Yesterday, Gascoigne met
with a Stasi officer,

code-named Spyglass.

We promised Spyglass immunity

in exchange
for a document on microfilm,

code-named "the list."

Hidden in a Swiss watch,
no less.

The list contains every active
clandestine officer,

all their shady deals.

It's an atomic bomb
of information

that could extend the Cold War
for another 40 years.

And we believe the man that
killed Gascoigne now has it.

Our sources point
to Yuri Bakhtin,

a KGB hatchet man with more
than a dozen confirmed kills.

So you want me in Moscow?

No.

Bakhtin never got on the flight.

So he's still in Berlin,
along with the list.

Everyone's hunting for it.

The Yanks, the Frogs.

Soviets, of course.

And our man, Percival.

Who's Percival?

David Percival.

He's our number one in Berlin.

He's your point of contact now.

Straight from the tit
of the Virgin Mary.

The Jordache wasn't easy.

It's for my wife's birthday.

That's really nice.

Now, where's that fucking list?

I gave the microfilm
to Gascoigne last night.

James didn't show up.

I did my part.

I gave him the list.

You have to get me
and my family across.

It's not safe
for us anymore here.

The Russians are onto me.

No list, no deal.

- I risked everything.
- No list, no deal.

You listen to me, Spyglass.

Without that list, why
shouldn't I take you outside

and shoot you
in the fucking head?

You are going to kill
a Stasi officer?

One that's about to defect
to the West? Yeah.

Without an embassy
to look after him,

Percival has gone
somewhat native.

Gone fucking feral.

Berlin is the Wild West.

If that bloody wall
comes crashing down,

we don't want to be under it.

If the Russians get that list,
we're all buggered sideways.

You're Elizabeth Lloyd.

A Cambridge-educated lawyer

sent by James Gascoigne's family

to retrieve the body and effects

of their recently deceased son.

Your mission is to connect
with Percival

and do whatever it takes
to get that list home.

And remember, Lorraine,
this is highly sensitive.

Trust no one.

Follow me! Come, come, come!

Quickly! This way.

Tell me you made a copy.

- I memorized it.
- Memorized it?

Every single agent on that list?

Every Wednesday, you visit
the Penny Lane brothel.

Your favorite girl is Margot.
Her real name is Maria.

Maria?

All right, I'll get you across.

- You're a good man, Percival.
- Fuck off.

I just want the list.
Once I've...

- Oh, fuck.
- Halt!

I'll be in touch.

Uh...

Document. Document.

Oh, gee...

("by Peter Schilling plays)"

("continues, sung in German)"

Oh, I'm so fucking late.

Welcome to

Tempelhof International Airport.

Miss Broughton,
Mr. Percival was running late.

He sent me to pick you up.

Checked bags?

No, they've been sent.

Please, follow me.

("Playing over car stereo)"

So... is this your first time
in Berlin?

Yes.

Well, it's a remarkable time
to be here.

Wonderful music,
superb nightlife,

marvelous restaurants.

You must try the Central Cafe
for a drink.

You'll need it later.

You remember Mr. Bremovych,
don't you?

Of course you do.

Well, he's very curious

what you're doing here
in Berlin.

What the fuck are you doing?

What the fuck are you doing?

Welcome to Berlin.

I'm David...

Where the fuck were you?

Don't shoot.
I-I've got your shoe.

Let me help you with your bags.

Come on.

Fuck's sake.

Russians are fucking heavy.

Five minutes on the ground,

- and I'm already made.
- You're not made, I hope.

- They knew my name.
- That's troubling.

- And yours.
- That's hardly surprising.

Great fucking start, Percival.

So, what was
your first impression?

Of David?

Well...

he was handsome.

Late 30s.

Disastrous Sinead O'Connor hair.

Irish singer.

I asked him
what the deal was with that,

and he said,
"It's to blend in."

Want to touch it?

It's to blend in, in the East.

That was the Brandenburg Gate,
by the way.

I mean, how the fuck
do the suits think

that you're going to be able
to help me find that list?

As soon as you pick up
Gascoigne's body,

they'll null and void
your visa, and you'll be on

- the first flight back home.
- I'll figure it out.

That's Checkpoint Charlie.

My office is just back there.

I'm not here to collect
postcards, Percival.

Just drop me at my hotel.
It's around the corner.

I thought you said you'd
never been to Berlin before.

I can read a fucking map.

This will just take a minute.

What are you doing?

Sending a message
to that fascist pig.

Say hello
to Comrade Bremovych for me.

Bremovych...

Whoo!

Tensions are high
in East Berlin tonight

as civil disobedience
continues to build momentum.

East Berlin's youth leaders
shout out their protests

through tear gas
and water cannons.

And there are numerous reports
of police

beating peaceful demonstrators
with batons.

I've been sent to arrange

the return of a British subject.

The body was identified

by your attaché.

Yes, I believe so.

This was not a question.

It was a statement.

He was your colleague?

Different department.

- Which department?
- A different one.

You have the transfer papers?

You know those movies

where the picture
just starts to slow down...

and melt?

Then catch fire?

Well...

that's Berlin.

The passport number
is incorrect.

I will not release this body

without the correct information.

It's a simple mistake.

Miss Lloyd, in Germany,

we don't make simple mistakes.

I'm not going to lie,
I'm impressed.

You've got some balls
breaking in here.

You should see my balls.

Then you'd be really impressed.

Hmm.
I'll take your word for it.

I see you found a way to stay.

You wrote "16"
when it should have said "76."

That's right.

I'm not going anywhere.

I'm here for at least
another week.

Lucky fucking me.

They won't release the body now

until they've investigated
that red-tape nightmare.

How the fuck
did you get in here?

You know, I've been
in Berlin a long time,

and I think I know every doorman

of every decent shithouse,
borderline decent flophouse

both sides of the wall.

Well, then you must know
Spyglass.

Never met the fellow.

He was James's.

What do you know
about this woman

who's been following me
since Tempelhof?

I'd say that you're
an attractive woman

and you should do the math.

You know,
if I was to follow you,

I mean, properly,
you'd never fucking know.

There's a knack to it,
isn't there?

It's like walking a tightrope
or playing the bagpipes.

You can either do it
or you can't.

Knock yourself out.

I'd like to purchase a watch.

I need access to a network
in East Berlin.

Come back tomorrow
before closing.

East Berlin is on
a short fuse again tonight

as Communist Party officials
struggle to maintain order.

How well do you know
James Gascoigne?

He's dead.

- You need to be careful.
- The coroner extracted

a 7.62 Tokarev round
from the base of his skull.

Soviets.

We know who Satchel is.

You need to run.

You expected to find the list

in Gascoigne's apartment.

You realize you were late
to the party.

Percival, the Russians...

Everybody must have already
ransacked the place.

Yes.

But the list
wasn't our only problem.

Before I left,
he told me one last thing.

This is exactly why
I didn't want the CIA present.

Spyglass revealed that this list

would expose a double agent
by the name of Satchel.

I want Satchel, dead or alive.

This traitor has been
a thorn in our side for years.

He's a black eye to the Crown.

And the single biggest

intelligence leak
in MI6 history.

You expose this bastard,
Satchel,

and we'll hang him for treason.

You might find yourself taking
tea at Buckingham Palace.

So no, I wasn't just looking

for the list
in Gascoigne's apartment.

Percival and I seem to have

a different definition
for collaboration.

What's that supposed to mean?

He was the only one who knew

I was going
to Gascoigne's apartment.

And if I knew he was
going to call the police,

I would have worn
a different outfit.

Different outfit?

Hey! Halt!

With repeated calls
for change on the streets

and the protesters
growing ever more confident,

time is running out
for the East German government.

Popular opinion has it

that the Communists' claim
to leadership

can't be upheld much longer.

And if rapid change
is not forthcoming,

today's relatively calm protests

could be seen as the calm
before the storm.

It's not just new faces
that are called for,

but perhaps a complete
demolition of the wall.

Mmm.

Let me take your coat.

Make yourself at home.

Fucking hell.

You want a pair of jeans?

Help yourself.

Hmm.

Your library
includes Larry Flynt?

Champion of free speech.

Hmm.

What have you found on Bakhtin?

Look, if Bakhtin wanted
the Russians to have that list,

he would have given it
to them by now.

We just have to wait
for him to make his move.

We can't afford to wait.

This is your city, Percival.

Or do you only know
doormen and bellhops?

So, what did you find
in Gascoigne's apartment?

Some Deutsche Marks,

empty passports, travel visas

and a picture of the two of you
together a few years back.

Did I not mention
that we were friends?

- No.
- No?

No, I must have forgot to.

Get your coat, love.

We're going for a walk.

Look, we're all
exposed by that list.

And saving the world
is cool and all that,

but my main objective
is staying alive.

I've been head of
Berlin Station for ten years.

You've got to know
that I'm the only man

in this town that can help you
get that list.

Yes, I've read your file.

I've also read your dog file.

So let's cut the crap, shall we?

This whole hungover,
show-up-late,

don't-know-which-way-is-up act,
I'm not buying it.

I trust you about as far
as I can throw you.

"It's a double pleasure
to deceive the deceiver."

Niccolo Machiavelli.

It was on your shelf.

Oh, my God,
I think I fucking love you.

That's too bad.

If Percival was telling
the truth about Bakhtin,

I needed to figure out
what the Russians knew.

Stoli on ice.

I'm not speaking German tonight.

So, you're British?

Very impressive.

This can't be your only talent.

Talents can be overrated.

A dedication...

a loyalty
is very rare these days.

Everyone here is searching
for something.

What are you looking for?

Well, when all's said and done,
wouldn't you say deep down

we're all just searching
for the same thing?

I leave you alone
for only a moment,

and already you are
attracting admirers.

Monsieur,
three is not always a crowd,

but tonight it is.

Hmm.

French women.

What about the British?

Maybe we could make
some sort of, uh, arrangement.

We haven't seen each other
in a long time,

and we really need to catch up.

Alone.

Ladies, Berlin is a small place.

I'm sure our paths
will cross again.

Sorry.

You looked like
you needed saving.

Well, I appreciate
the gesture, Miss...

Lasalle.

Delphine Lasalle.

Pleased to meet you.

So, what do you do, Delphine?

I'm a part-time translator
who really wants to be a poet.

Maybe a rock star.

My friend owns a club nearby.

Want to come check it out?

- Now?
- Sure.

I can't.

Well, I'll give you
the address anyway.

Come meet me there
tomorrow night?

Will you come?

Maybe?

You're relentless.

Oui.

David Hasselhoff's in town.

Lucky us.

Berlin is truly doomed.

Your watch is ready.

It's on the counter
in that plain envelope.

I think you'll find my contact
very useful.

Your watch is ready.

It's on the counter
in that plain envelope.

I think you'll find my contact
very useful.

East Berliners stormed

the West German embassies
in Czechoslovakia

earlier this week,
as the Czech government

has begun to wave the refugees

through checkpoints
with few questions.

One has to ask how long
the East Berlin government

can hold on...

Bakhtin and the list

had not yet surfaced
in the West.

I needed to meet my new contact

and see what I was up against
in the East.

You should have applied
for a visitor's permit.

What kind of work do you do?

Legal affairs.

If you do not return
before 6:00,

you will be arrested.

Do you understand?

I understand.

Right now I'm not feeling
very confident

about this story of yours.

Why not use Percival's
connections in the East?

He told me...

to trust no one.

Hello?

Go there.

You are late.

And you were followed.

I'm late because I was followed.

I lost them 20 minutes ago
near the Palast der Republik.

You're as good
as your reputation.

Are you sure this
is the best place to meet?

Keep your enemies close.

I'm a permanent fixture
for them now.

The Watchmaker says

there has been great interest
in this list

on the black market
the last few days.

- Any sign of Bakhtin?
- No.

This Satchel character
has people worried

on both sides of the wall.

Yeah.

What kind of network
have you assembled?

There's a lot of, uh,
dissatisfied youth

on this side of the wall.

They're like a...

tinderbox.

If you find the right spark...

Keep talking.

I am interested
in selling a watch.

What are you selling?

It is extremely valuable.

Finest quality and...

filled with secrets.

Would you mind if I inspect
the merchandise?

Fuck yes, I mind.

Just tell potential buyers
Bakhtin is open for business.

Ladies, Berlin is a small place.

I'm sure our paths
will cross again.

Sorry.

You looked like
you needed saving.

My friend owns a club nearby.

Want to come check it out?

I didn't think
that you would show.

Stoli on the rocks?

You pay attention.

I look for pleasure
in the details.

Speaking of which...

I have been dying
to ask you a question.

Let's go someplace quiet.

Why the gun, Delphine?

You're not as well-disguised
as you may think.

I know who you are.

You're Lorraine Broughton, MI6,

and you're here because
of the death of Gascoigne.

What do you know
about Gascoigne?

Nothing.

But if someone is killing
Allied officers,

shouldn't we all care?

Whatever is in that list has
people willing to kill for it.

This is my first assignment
with the French intelligence.

I've only been here a year.

I'm scared, okay?

I got into this
because it was exciting.

But it's never been
like this in Berlin.

You should have become a poet.

Or a rock star.

So you made contact
with the French operative?

Obviously.

Why?

I believed she had information
I could exploit.

Nothing more.

And did she?

Did she have any information,
Lorraine?

There is something
I need to tell you.

It has to do with your friend
Percival. He's...

Lorraine?

Did she have
any information, Lorraine?

Did she give you information?

She gave me nothing.

David fucking Percival.

Are you following me?

Maybe you're not as good
at this spy shit as you think.

That was for James,
you fucking prick.

Now, give me that fucking list.

We needed to get you
a message, Lorraine.

We're several days into a
mission without a single lead.

And plenty of distractions.

You have to be reminded
of the course at hand.

Oh, I received your message.

That's quite a view.

70 miles of barbed wire,

310 guard towers,
65 anti-vehicle trenches,

40,000 Soviet-trained,
heavily armed frontier troops.

All that, and 5,000 GDR citizens

still had the brass balls
to escape.

You've got the MI6 so worried

they called the CIA
to talk sense into you.

Eric Gray called me.

Of course he did.

I don't have to remind you of
how fast the clock is ticking.

If this thing gets out,

a lot of good,
hard-working folks...

brave men and women
are going to show up dead.

You and I included.

I swear to God,
the last few weeks,

I dread even waking up
in the morning.

I understand the severity
of the situation, sir.

And the time imperative.

Listen, I didn't climb
all the way up here

just to give you
some rousing pep talk.

So I'll cut to the chase.

Last night, you met a woman.

Delphine Lasalle
is out of her depth.

Given the climate, I'd hate
to see an executive order

come down the line
that falls in her disinterest.

Her disinterest?

What do you mean,
her disinterest?

Don't insult my intelligence,
Lorraine.

You know exactly
what I fucking mean.

Hope you get a snapshot.

Next week, this will be
a whole different picture.

Central has been compromised.

Meet me at the Rough
Trade Bar at Oranienstrasse.

We need to talk.

Look at all these hedonists.

It's like a beautiful woman
gone wrong. I fucking love it.

Word is Bakhtin has resurfaced.

Cops found him
with a homemade lobotomy.

Either way,
we have to deal with Spyglass.

Thinking it through, he doesn't
have much time over there.

Our priority is the list.

- We can't make mistakes.
- Come on.

He's hardly the most
trustworthy person I ever met.

Or the fucking brightest.

Wait.
You said you hadn't met him.

I lied.

And he claims to have
memorized the entire list.

He's ready to make the jump.

You believe he committed
the entire thing to memory?

Everything.

Had I known earlier, I would
have prioritized Spyglass.

His knowledge made him
as valuable as the list.

I could have grabbed him
at any moment.

Instead,
Percival kept it a secret,

putting us in
a precarious position.

Look, the KGB are going to have

some very angry bastards out
there looking for Spyglass.

We can't trust any of the old

usual methods.

It's not that difficult

to drive across
the border these days.

It is when you're wanted
like Spyglass is.

We have to walk him across
personally

to ensure his safety
in plain sight.

We'll use the demonstration
tomorrow at Alexanderplatz.

That's insane.

All those protesters
will make a great distraction.

Spyglass is my guy.

We're going to do it my way.

Fine.

But we use my contact
to get all our papers in order.

All right.

We have a deal?

I'll take that as a yes.

You see...

I received a call

from David Percival
that evening, Lorraine.

He said he had the list.

I'll need
a little time to wrap it up.

And he knew
the identity of Satchel.

Oh, I'm very close to Satchel.

And no one thought to tell me?

Hmm?

Fuck.

You brought a lot of friends.

I heard Bakhtin
had a little accident.

I heard he slipped
and fell on an ice pick.

Berlin's a cruel mistress.

Especially for traitors
like Bakhtin.

Oh, don't be
such a fucking Communist.

You've got a problem.

Yeah, I know.

You have the fucking list.

We've been in the trenches
long enough to know

that at times like this Berlin
has its own set of rules.

I can give you information
that will keep the balance.

Now, are you in or out?

Percival's trying to set me up.

Are you surprised?

Not really.

These relationships aren't real.

They're just a means to an end.

When you tell the truth,
you look different.

Your eyes change.

Thanks for the warning.

What do you mean?

I mean,
I better not do it again.

Why?

'Cause it's going to get me
killed one day.

Well, I am impressed.

I thought Merkel here
was just a good bartender.

You smell like a Stasi officer.

Shave off that moustache.

Use that soap and cologne.
It's from the West.

You can't take anything
from the East.

Merkel will
give you some clothes.

Right this way, Mr. Spyglass.

It should have been easy.

The plan was sound.

Whatever went wrong did so
because someone wanted it to.

Someone from the inside.

Were you betrayed
by a fellow agent?

You mean Satchel?

Would that be unheard of?

Per your request.

You won't be needing that.

It will be worse
if they find it on you.

Everything else ready?

Yes. Everything you requested.

I'm ready.

What do you think of his shirt?

I wouldn't be caught dead in it.

But for him, it's perfect.

Stand over here.

Now look like a free man.

East Berlin peace leaders

have organized a demonstration
this week at Alexanderplatz.

Did he tell you
I memorized the whole list?

Yes.

I realize I may not be

as valuable
to some people and...

some people may even
want me dead, but...

what choice do I have?

You're no good to me dead.

And I've never lost a package.

I know.

Hey, hey, hey.

It's his family.

This was not part of the plan.

Part of mine.

Please.

I'll take the wife and kid.

You just have to deal
with Spyglass.

I don't know if I have
enough passports.

Percival.

Your old golden boy.

We have to go.

See you in the West.

Good luck.

This was never part of the plan.

It was part of mine.

Stay low.

In here.

I need to deal with this now,

or we'll never get across.

I don't want to die.

You're not going to die.

Stay here.

Fuck.

Two more. There's two more.

Go.

You need to stop that bleeding.

Search for anything.

Alcohol, rags.

Am I a bitch now?

Get in.

Get in!

You need to work on your German.

It's horrible.

What the hell?

Oh!

You all right?

Yeah.

We have to go...

It's so cold!

- Open your door.
- My foot is... it's stuck!

Just breathe.

- You need a break?
- No.

So...

Yes, I-I think I understand
everything.

You made your plan.

And you failed to get
the high-value asset

safely across to the West.

You sent me into
a fucking hornet's nest.

I was made by the KGB

from the moment my feet
touched the ground.

Maybe even before.

But then you knew that,
didn't you?

You had your doubts
about Percival,

and you used me
to shake him down.

Ready when you are.

Hey, hey...
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Whoa, whoa.
It's me. It's me.

He's dead.

Spyglass is dead.

And you are alive.

They're all listening to me.

They knew.

The KGB knew everything.

I need to get across.

Jan.

Well, I expected more
out of the Brits

- than a royal goat fuck.
- I know. We're sorry.

Oh, no, wait.
You lot don't have

your own private
Stasi agent, do you?

Not one with
a photographic memory.

We need to get with Broughton

and get on the same page.

We need that list...
Now more than ever.

Broughton?

She made it out.

Right.

You know, a beautiful Italian
girl once said to me, "David..."

you can't unfuck
what's been fucked."

Women are always getting in the
way of progress, aren't they?

What no one in Germany

believed possible
has happened tonight.

The wall is coming down.
The wall is down.

People here have lived
with the wall since 1961,

and I think now it's time to...
break the wall down, you know.

The wall is crumbling.

The sledgehammers
in the hands of men

not born when it went up
tear into it.

And behind it,

the East German soldiers
tried to stop the tide.

Water cannons were brought out.

But the West Berliners
were determined.

One West Berliner
sprayed champagne back.

You know, if I was

to follow you,
I mean, properly...

you'd never fucking know.

It is the moment

Berliners have waited
28 years for.

Even the East Germans
seem exhilarated.

A symbolic breach
in the structure

that cost hundreds of lives
and separated friends,

families and lovers for decades.

I found a French UHF device

in my coat after Spyglass died.

I now believe it was Percival
who planted it.

Made it look like Lasalle.

Why are you here?

You need to leave Berlin.

Well, when I didn't hear
from you, I got worried.

How naive can you be?

We chose this life, Delphine.

This only ends one way.

What are you talking about?

He set us both up.

You have to leave while you can.

Yes?

Don't underestimate me,
Percival.

Oh, Lasalle,
listen to me very carefully.

You have no idea
who you're dealing with.

- You set me up.
- You...

Come on, now.
This is the game.

I know your secrets, David,

and I can play this game
better than you think.

Percival is trying

to set me up.

Are you surprised?

Not really.

These relationships aren't real.

They're just a means to an end.

When you tell
the truth, you look different.

Your eyes change.

Thanks for the warning.

What do you mean?

I mean,
I better not do it again.

Why?

'Cause it's going
to get me killed one day.

There is something
that I need to tell you.

It has to do
with your friend Percival.

- He's...
- Shh.

I'm sorry, darling.

This is the game.

Celebrations continue
in the streets tonight.

From the moment the first wave

of East Germans crossed
into Berlin,

they have been showered
with champagne

and cheered by a crowd
of thousands.

It is clear this will be one
of Berlin's most dramatic days.

East Berliners are overcome
as they cross the border

that has been closed to them
for 28 years.

West Berliners are chipping away

at the wall that scarred
their city and scaling it.

There is no more
interference from the police.

Unified, Berliners
lay symbols of peace.

Thousands of them looking east
and chanting,

"Down with the wall."

There's only one question
left to ask.

Who won?

And what was
the fucking game anyway?

And I was thinking,

the wall will never fall.

Germany's peaceful revolution

is probably the political
and cultural story of 1989.

We're going to take a
quick break, but we'll be back

with an in-depth look
at the number-one

musical controversy
of the year... sampling.

Is it art,
or is it just plagiarism?

Don't go away.

To win, first you have to know
whose side you're on.

In our line of work,

that's right up there
with black holes

or "to be or not to be."

You fight the good fight,
and then one day

you wake up and you realize
that all you were

was Satan's little helper.

Ironic.

The news will tell them
there will be no more secrets.

But you and I,
we both know that's not true.

The world is run on secrets.

Whoever has that list has power.

And without it, you're just
another fucking target.

So, what have I learned

after all this time?

After all the sleepless nights,

lying to friends,
lovers, myself?

Playing this crooked game
in this crooked town

filled with backstabbers
and four-faced liars?

I'll tell you what I've learned.

One thing and one thing only.

I fucking love Berlin!

You didn't have to kill her.

You what... what...
you suddenly decided

to develop a conscience
after all you've done?

Have you noticed
how everyone you get close to

ends up fucking dead?

You gave Bremovych
the details of the plan.

You went to the KGB
to take me out.

You were too fucking scared
to do it yourself.

Too smart, more like.

If those KGB pricks
had done their part,

I'd be on my way to a hand job
with the queen by now.

I've read that list,

Lorraine.

And you feature heavily.

Turns out you've been
a very naughty girl.

Spyglass was a liability
to us all.

I couldn't risk
leaving him with you.

Where's the list, David?

I don't have it.

It's en route to MI6,
where it belongs.

Are you going to lie
till the very end?

Truth and lies.

People like us
don't know the difference.

No, we know the difference,
David.

We choose to ignore it.

Isn't that right,
Comrade Satchel?

So that's how
you'll make it work.

"It's a double pleasure
to deceive the deceiver."

Well played.

You killed David Percival?

All the paperwork
is in order for the bodies

of James Gascoigne
and David Percival.

You killed our head of station,

an officer of the Crown.

You'd better have hard proof
and a damn good explanation.

Who are you to judge my actions?

I'm your superior.

My superior.

This was never
about stopping the war.

It was about saving your ass.

You couldn't bear
the embarrassment of the sins

that we committed
in the Cold War.

And I was stupid enough
to give my life for it.

Yes, well,
that's your job, isn't it?

I did my job.

Despite your best efforts
and your incompetence,

I succeeded where you failed.

I uncovered your traitor,
Satchel.

Brought him the only justice
he deserved.

A bullet.

Percival meeting with Bremovych

the day before Spyglass
was killed.

Maybe we could make

some sort of, uh, arrangement.

You got to know
that I'm the only man

in this town that can
help you get that list.

Very impressive. Dedication.

Loyalty.
They're rare things these days.

"It's a double pleasure

to deceive the deceiver."

We have a deal?

What about the British?

Do you trust Gray?

- No.
- What about C?

C is an arrogant lapdog

who understands
precisely fuck-all

beyond the edge of his desk.

Percival was Satchel.

Where's the list?

Where's the list, Lorraine?

I don't know.

Oh, bollocks.

The prime minister
is going to have

a difficult time with this.

We're choosing
to bury this one, Broughton.

Your mission never took place.

This conversation...

never happened.

I'm putting you on leave,
effective immediately.

We'll start the next decade
well rested.

C?

What should I wear...

for my tea with the queen?

Ah.

Did you really think I was
going to give you that list?

Before you die,
I want you to get this

through your thick,
primitive skull.

I never worked for you.

You worked for me.

Every false intel I gave you,
a rip in the Iron Curtain.

Every piece of intel
you gave me,

a bullet in my fucking gun.

I want my life back.

Safe travels.

Estimated
flight time to Langley:

11 hours and 37 minutes.

Cleared for takeoff.

Let's go home.

That sounds good.

Let's go home.

"Cocksucker"?

Really?

I'm glad it was convincing.

Pressure on people