Original subtitles

Protesters against President Bush's

forthcoming visit to London are today clashing...

The demonstration against

President Bush's planned visit has attracted

protesters of all kinds.

Anti war groups...

President Bush arrives in London

later this week.

If feelings are running this high,

commentators are asking what will happen...

I spy.

Come on.

Come on, come on.

I'm sure it's him.

Yep.

Mark Develeaux of Green Action.

Rock and roll.

Let's make sure we don't lose this guy.

Tango X, what's happening?

Tango X, are you receiving?

It's a group of civilians that broke the cordon.

I'm with them now.

Stay with them.

Sorry?

Didn't receive.

Don't do that!

He's touched his earpiece!

You can't get the staff these days.

He's a cop.

He's a cop!

He's a cop!

We report that and his balls will be busted.

They already are.

Guy in flaming helmet.

Delta Blue, this is X-ray Red.

Subject with penguin on head is friendly.

Repeat, friendly.

Infiltrator!

He's an infiltrator!

That joker knows we're observing.

Oh, marvelous.

Perfect second-row loose-maul technique.

Hmm?

Rugby.

Didn't know you liked rugger buggers.

Shall we stay focused?

Focused?

Oh, yes!

Hold up, hold up.

What is this?

That's not...

It is.

The famous Peter Salter.

Hello, X-Ray.

This is Delta Blue.

Come in.

X-ray Red receiving.

We have a suspect who claims he's friendly.

Can you confirm?

What do we do?

Pull him.

You can't pull Peter Salter!

He's a legend.

Maybe he's on an op.

If we're running surveillance on this,

we would have been told.

We weren't, were we?

If he's undercover, we'd have known, wouldn't we?

Oh, no.

We haven't screwed up here, have we?

Oh, please, please.

X-ray Red, what action?

You're senior.

Wimp.

X-Ray Red to Delta Blue, release suspect.

Repeat, release your suspect.

Roger that.

Okay, go.

I've gotta get a shot of the girl.

Don't take your mask off.

They'll be trying to get a shot.

Peter, how do you know that?

God, what are you?

I'm a bloody hero, darling.

Come on.

What did we just do?

Oh, my God!

Hm.

It's not as bad as it looks.

Peter William Salter.

Born 1954, Chelmsford...

Essex boy.

Father an NCO, 23rd Middlesex Rifles,

killed by a bomb, Famagusta, Cyprus 1958.

Wow, wow, wow.

First-class degree maths and philosophy.

What a clever bastard.

Big fish like this, we must have had a briefing for-

Danny.

Fun on the Bush demo?

A doddle.

I want a report in one hour.

What did you say you did again?

Fell on a stapler.

A sort of industrial-strength stapler?

It's a whopper, yeah.

It's a gun wound, isn't it?

Someone shot you.

Don't be silly.

Once I tell you, there's no going back.

So what are you?

A gangster?

I'm a spy.

I work for MI5.

MI5?

Jesus.

Well, it's a job, with an office, and a pension.

It's got a canteen.

It's not out of the ordinary.

You just got shot!

Well, there are perks.

What?

Why don't we have a cup of tea?

Eh?

Why were you at the restaurant?

You were always there.

'Cause I fancied you.

No, why did you come in the first place?

Because there was an op.

What, some spying thing?

At my restaurant?

What was it about?

I can't tell you that.

Secrets.

You can't expect me to go against my training, right?

Your training?

I am what I do.

But I don't know what you do.

Sod you, Matthew, why didn't you tell me?

I couldn't.

Why not?

Vetting.

You vetted me?

It's routine when officers form liaisons.

Great.

So, now you know that I'm not Bin Laden's sister,

you can tell me.

I was scared if I told you, you'd leave

and everything flows from that.

I wanted to be with you.

No, everything flows from can I trust you?

Is Matthew your real name?

No.

Sorry, Harry, we had no idea Peter Salter was undercover.

We weren't briefed.

Let me tell you, you did not see Peter Salter today.

You would be in very hot water if it had been him.

I'm sure it was him on the tapes.

I have viewed the tapes and you are mistaken.

Aren't you?

Oh...

Yes.

And your operatives did well in the crowd?

Tremendous.

Poor young Jeff Catty...

With a penguin on his head.

Very well done.

Go and write it up.

That it?

What do you want?

My tongue down your throat?

Matthew Archer got a tax demand this morning.

It's not real.

Don't spies pay taxes?

The Inland Revenue run a special office

so no-one can trace us.

Trace you?

Yes.

What is it?

What is what?

Your real name.

Tom Quinn.

Matthew...

Matthew...

Ellie, I'm not like you.

There are things...

I know.

You don't know.

Matthew...

I love you.

The brilliant Mr Salter.

Recruited at Oxford to GCHQ.

Training for advanced computer code breaking.

Hmm.

Volunteered for MI5 service, 1977.

Commended for bravery, Operation Burnt Field, Belfast, 1978.

Seconded to MI6, 1985 to '89...

Fly me to the moon.

Returned to us, 1992.

Recruited following officers...

Zoe, what's going on?

Why's Harry saying he wasn't there?

Salter recruited Tom.

Tom doesn't talk about how the Service got him.

It's one of his things.

How did you join?

Won't say?

Can't say?

All that matters is us...

Here and now.

Great.

So in this here and now,

I stop calling you Matthew and call you Tom?

I'll change my name, too.

Call me Pussy Galore.

I've told you I do a job serving my country.

Is that so bad?

What about Maisie?

Are you gonna tell her?

Well, it can be difficult with kids.

I can't have her lied to.

Not after what she went through with her father.

Tell Maisie or I leave you.

Matthew?

Chris.

Fancy a quick drink?

Yeah, Fox On The Hill?

I've got to go.

Was that them?

No, I'm just going for a drink.

Why was Peter Salter undercover without me knowing?

You are on sick leave.

I run Peter.

That is set in stone.

All right.

I'm running Peter on a special op.

What op?

How is Ellie?

You know her vetting flagged up positive.

Don't do that, Harry.

What?

Threaten me with career damage.

Ellie was on a Women Reclaim The Streets march in 1992.

Please!

Peter went off-piste on the demo, didn't he?

And you didn't know he was gonna blow his cover.

Turn him over to me.

He's mine.

I run him because I know him inside out,

and I'm not giving you a choice here, Harry.

Oh, when shall we lay down our burdens?

All right.

That is Istvan Vogel?

That was in his Dusseldorfer Bank days.

Before he got religion.

If world anarchy is a religion.

Istvan Vogel, anarchist.

Enemy of the state.

Great wizard behind anti-American riots around the world.

He has vowed to scorch the earth

and not leave a bank or stock exchange standing.

And he's here to strike against the Bush visit?

Like he did in Genoa?

Or worse.

That's the thought browning trousers in Downing Street.

Oh sod you, Harry.

How could you keep me out of this?

You weren't in for a very good reason,

which will immediately become apparent.

Get me Jools Siviter at MI6.

Oh, no.

Ah, gentlemen, a very good afternoon to you.

Jools, how are you?

I'm very well indeed, thank you.

And you brought little terrier Tom

along with you as a surprise.

Good to see you, Tom.

Jools.

Well, now, I thought it might be rather jolly

if we walked about a bit.

Always gives one a bit of a frisson, don't you find,

going amongst the plebs talking of state secrets.

And if you're very good,

I've got a bit of a treat for you.

Fine.

No, you should have asked me if little Tom here

was to be briefed or not.

It is my decision to use whatever officers I want.

With respect, it is not your decision to make.

Are we gonna have to potty-train all you people?

MI6 runs operations abroad, MI5 at home.

English Channel, Calais, foreign bods and Johnnies South,

we take care.

White Cliffs of Dover, all British,

Irish and assortments north, your concern.

But in this case, the undercover officer

was from our service.

He is seconded to us.

He is not-

Moment.

Ah.

A jolly bit of news.

I'm sorry, what were you saying?

He is not seconded to you.

It is a joint operation.

It's your target-

The operation concerns a foreign national.

So we are prima mobile.

You're what?

Oh, Tom, you spoke.

So good to see you working on your skills.

Afternoon, gents.

Great day for it.

Absolutely.

Cannot discuss this in the street, Jools.

I agree.

Don't worry, I know where we can get a drink.

All quiet on the Western Front, Mr Patel?

All quiet, Mr Siviter.

Good.

Shut up shop now, I think.

Yes, Mr Siviter.

The joy of an obbo post is the great powers

can't see how much you're drinking.

What is this?

This is the treat I promised.

We've been bugging an anarcho's flat,

and something else has wandered in.

So they're home?

Yes, sir.

Talking?

Rumpty-tumpty?

Yes, thank you very much.

What is going on?

The girl your Peter Salter is making waves with

has been using the flat of a comrade of hers, German.

Would you believe our luck,

that's where Peter's been giving her the benefit

of his vast experience.

You're conducting surveillance

on one of my officers in the field

without my authorization?

Gift horse, old man.

They just wandered in through the door

and the mikes were already there.

You're muscling in on my officer.

You want his intelligence product for yourself!

Well, actually there's no real product yet.

You're MI5.

Why am I doing this?

Shit!

It's the danger.

It's sexy.

Oh, yeah?

I've just discovered I've been shagging

a secret agent for two months.

Andrea...

No!

Who's the girl?

Please can we all be up to speed?

Andrea Chambers, 25.

No college.

Sushi bar co-owner, mother's money, bar failed.

Then bits and pieces.

It girl around town.

Weekend on a Yorkshire commune

and never looked back since.

Anarchists these days get their totty

from Cheltenham Ladies' College.

Cheers.

I trusted you.

I told myself I was in love with you.

You've got to believe me.

I am the thing the security service fears the most.

The spy who goes through traitor's gate willingly

and embraces everything he's been trained to destroy.

I want to be with you.

I want to be one of you.

I've learnt from you.

There is a world elsewhere.

Is that a quote from something?

Shakespeare, Coriolanus.

One hell of a pitch, I must say.

He is very, very good.

Just hold me.

How do these bastards in the field do it?

Tell Istvan I want to meet him.

No.

He won't.

Yes, he will.

Tell him I've got a dead-ground map.

For the whole country.

What's a dead-ground map?

Every the major government building,

installation and communications, military sites...

The map shows where CCTV cameras miss.

You could raid anywhere in the country.

Did he clear this with you?

Absolutely.

He's right on game plan.

Hm.

It's bloody imaginative for you, Harry.

I hope you've thought it through.

We just lost a bug.

What's happening?

Goodnight, sweet ladies.

Goodnight.

If your bloody officer's gonna wreck

one of our hot houses,

it comes out of your budget!

Peter, Peter...

All right, Tom.

How you doing?

So you moved Harry over, did you?

Something like that.

Watch it, old son.

Don't you get too clever at the office politics.

Look out, not in.

Salter's rule for preserving the sanity of the officer.

I remember.

I should bloody well hope you do.

After all, I perverted you to the service of the Crown.

So where's the girl?

Camden B&B.

Peter, the game plan Harry gave you

was simply to be undercover.

Work the girl.

You have gone way, way off-piste.

Oh come on.

These may be anarchists,

but they're as tight as an old Leninist cell.

A normal cover game's not gonna give me

a spit in hell's chance of getting

anywhere near Istvan Vogel.

We're all con men, aren't we?

What's the hook that I've got to con Istvan?

It's me.

It's my soul.

And offering him the national dead-ground map?

It's just the cherry on top.

Where did you get it from?

A pretty little thing I know in Ordnance Survey.

You'll have to turn it in.

Am I under some sort of cloud?

Yep.

Let me guess, Harry's getting grief from Vauxhall Cross

because I'm not playing it by the book?

No, no.

No, no, I mean, you've started a turf war,

but they're dazzled by Istvan Vogel as the prize.

No, you're the hero of the hour.

So what's the problem?

Me.

It's me.

You're in love with the girl.

You blew your cover for her.

You weren't acting back in that flat.

Yeah, well.

I hear you've got a new girl.

Have you told her yet?

Yeah.

Yeah, you have to in the end, don't you?

The big difference is Ellie is not a target

on an operation.

She's a believer, Tom.

That's what makes her so beautiful.

It's her purity.

Oh!

Peter, please!

How many in our trade have fallen for that one?

I've not fallen, I'm just in love.

Oh, Peter, Peter, Peter...

Believe me, Tom.

Look, I am so close.

When I do bust Istvan Vogel,

then Jools and Harry, and all the rest of you,

will be buzzing round the honey pot.

The service can put me in a dead file

and retire Andrea and me

to some little fruit farm or something.

Okay.

Okay.

I can operate independently?

My style?

When have you ever not?

Great!

There has to be an end to it somewhere.

To what?

Obedience to the state.

I'm closing this operation down.

You can't do that.

We'll go back to Thames House now.

Fuck you!

They'll get to Bush.

You are stood down.

What's happened to you?

Ambition?

You're losing it, Peter.

Maybe we all do in the end.

Tom, I need to see her tonight.

I can't let that happen.

Before she ruins her life.

Come on.

A favor for the master?

I love her, Tom.

First thing tomorrow morning, Thames House.

Expect to be there all day.

Jawohl mein Gruppenfuhrer.

Tom...

Thanks.

How did the debriefing go?

I pulled him.

You what?

He's not reliable.

The great Peter Salter not reliable?

It was the way he said, "Obedience to the state."

What way?

Like a believer.

I hope I'm wrong.

So do I.

Where is he now?

He's at the Camden B&B.

Zoe and Danny are watching.

Good.

Tell me everything that he said to you.

Was there a cashpoint back there?

What is it with you and plastic?

Every time I'm unhappy, I have this urge to get money.

He's going in to the girl.

It's me.

What time did they say they'd pick us up?

1.30.

Right.

Call 999.

Ask for the police.

Say there's a man and a woman having sex

in a BMW Estate in Horlworth Road, Camden,

and there's children about.

Just do it.

Sod it!

We've had a complaint, sir.

There are children about, you know.

What, at one o'clock at night?

Now, don't get funny.

Danny.

Please arrange your clothes and get out of the car, sir.

Look, my clothes aren't unarranged!

Shit!

You shit!

Right, that's it!

Get out of the vehicle now!

Andrea, get in the front.

Peter, in with me.

Mobile?

Thank you.

If you were I, what would you ask me

to ask you to do now?

Thank you.

So are we gonna kill him, then?

The President of the United States,

when he visits in five days' time?

We gonna pop him or what?

We have a long way to go.

Hello?

Hello.

Is Matthew...

Is Tom there, please?

Who wants to know?

Could you tell him it's Harold?

No.

Hey, was that the phone?

Dunno.

Hi, mobile was off.

Tom, we've lost Peter Salter.

Get in here.

Right, thanks.

God, Ellie, look...

What?

I've gotta go, I'm sorry.

It's 6:20 in the morning, what time did you get in?

Dunno.

Two?

You said you went out for a drink with a friend.

I've got to shower.

Where are we, then?

Wales?

Why do you think that?

Sense of geography.

Goes with my trade.

The English secret pig policeman.

The loony anarcho enemy of the world order, I presume.

Mr Salter, agents of state security service

have attempted to penetrate our group before.

We have dealt with them.

Ah.

Did they all bring gifts?

Not you!

Get out!

They're gonna blame us, aren't they?

Tom, sorry about last night...

Harry wants you.

Do you know what it's about?

Now!

Right.

Come in.

Harry, about losing Salter last night...

This isn't about that.

Have you got them on you?

Your credit cards.

I wanted you to work this out, Danny,

to get it through your system,

this thing you have with money,

particularly money that you don't have.

We all have our little quirks,

and ingenious theft like breaking into computers

to set your own credit rating

isn't such a sin in our trade.

It's an impulse that, creatively channeled,

could be used to brilliant effect.

Sadly, in your case it has not, yet.

But I am going to protect you.

Now, because of Mr Salter, during the next few days

we will all be in the spotlight

and the menders will be sent in to vet us

to the very backs of our eyeballs.

So you are now owning up.

Aren't you?

Yeah.

Then give me the cards, you bloody idiot.

Punishment.

Office.

Staff.

Training.

No, Harry, not that.

For as long as it takes.

Punishment reforms.

Or the kind I dish out does.

Use the dead-ground map as a tool for greater things.

Blind spots on the security coverage of Medway University.

Its Ordnance Survey department has computers

that are directly linked to the mainframe

of air-traffic control.

I have the same seniority as Tom.

Why wasn't I included in the loop?

Oh, career, career, Tessa!

Here we go, careering along faster and faster,

straight over the edge of the bloody cliff!

Harry!

Stressful day.

Now I'll brief you on anything

you haven't already learnt in the ladies'.

But first things first.

You have a source, one Billy Turner.

He lies in a home-grown British anarchist group

called Trashers, no?

He's not that reliable.

He looks terrific to me.

Spent enough on him too.

I don't think he's anywhere near Istvan Vogel.

We'll take anything we can get.

We're in a state of collective desperation, right?

I'll meet him.

No you won't.

Zoe will.

You have more senior tasks.

Where's the dead drop for Billy?

Hampstead Heath, but I don't-

What?

Fine.

So!

We doing something today?

Like, driving up to Alton Towers?

Alton Towers!

Matthew!

I need to talk to you first though, Maisie.

Okay.

Go and sit over here.

Now...

My real name's not Matthew.

Do I have to call you Tom now?

Do you mind?

Why did you say you were Matthew?

Because...

Matthew was a secret name.

It wasn't a secret name, 'cause I know it.

Tom's your secret name.

I'm a spy.

Do you know what that is?

Someone who watches someone

when they don't know they're being watched.

Yes.

Hello, Zoe.

What's happened?

Where's Billy Turner?

He's here.

Oh, don't go wobbly on me, Zoe.

What, there is no Billy Turner?

You're running a phantom agent?

But, Tessa, why?

For the money.

I pocket the sweeteners.

He's not the only one.

There are lots more.

That is so, so dangerous.

They're all in odd corners.

I thought Billy was safe, no-one would notice

a stupid little anarchist group.

Then all this business came up.

Could I have a sandwich?

Yeah.

Oh, well...

I think I'll kill him.

And what's that?

10 grand.

Tell Harry that Billy Turner didn't show.

And what makes you so sickeningly confident

I'm just gonna go along with all this?

I'm not.

Matthew's real name is Tom and he's a spy.

Matthew's his spy name, but we can call him Tom now.

And he promised he won't get shot again.

But we're not to tell.

Ever.

We going to Alton Towers now?

Zoe, you in there?

I've had a bitch of a day and this I can do without!

Zoe!

That's the plan, brought to us by our new comrade.

The moment has come.

For?

Which machine?

This one's as good as any other.

What do you think you're doing?

Istvan said the group never carries arms.

Private initiative.

Well, put it away.

Now.

Prat.

How much longer?

How long is a piece of string?

Armed intruders in C block.

I don't trust you to do this.

I've never trusted you to do this.

Take the computers!

Just the towers!

They'll think there's a break-in.

What about you?

Just get out, go on.

No!

Don't let us down.

And there you have it, you bastards.

Armed police!

Let's not have anyone hurt!

Let's do this carefully.

No need to rush!

Come out!

I repeat, come out!

Coming out now!

Coming out!

Armed police!

Stand still!

I'm putting it down!

Putting it down!

Put it down!

Shit!

Is he here yet?

Special Branch just brought him in to the basement.

Any idea where the girl is?

No.

Oh, shag.

So, now your star officer gets caught

stealing computers from a university!

I'm quizmaster.

Tom is quizzing him.

Tom?

Little tinkering Tom here is responsible for this mess.

If it's one of you, let it be Tessa.

Jools, until you and your Old Etonian cronies

get me the push, this is my department.

Tom will be quizmaster.

I have viewing rights.

Be our guest.

Lively this side of the river, isn't it?

Do you want him now or later?

Right away.

Tom.

I thought we'd use Harry's office.

Is he not here?

No, he's at some function.

He'd be delighted to hear you're out.

Bug your own office, do you, Harry?

Just for special occasions.

Are you okay?

Yeah, I'm okay.

Just got spot of tinnitus, you know, with the bang-bangs.

Harry's finest?

Not for me.

Smoke.

You got any smokes?

I haven't, sorry.

Anyway, a triumph.

You reckon?

Yeah.

But you were so off-piste,

you weren't even on the mountain!

So, let's do the details.

Personnel.

Planning.

So it is the President's visit they're going for?

Yeah.

Where's their HQ?

They had me blindfolded.

Any feelings?

East Anglia.

East Anglia?

Not much cover.

There were sheds.

Aircraft hangers?

Could be.

Doesn't really matter.

We've got the girl, she'll tell us.

So, 'cause of your cover you went along

with this silly university stunt.

What was the point of that?

Theft to raise funds?

Yeah, right.

They're broke.

Yeah.

We picked the girl up.

She got away from the university,

and then she did this really stupid thing, she hurt herself.

How?

Broke her ankle.

Her comrades left her.

They would.

Hard lot, are they?

They reckon so.

Shall I make a leap?

You always taught me to make leaps.

Be my guest.

Wales.

Is that a guess?

East Anglia is the opposite side of the country to Wales.

Thank you.

Have you just cracked me?

I don't know.

You tell me.

Fuck you, Tom Quinn.

The old Cernwyth Army Range, north of the Black Mountains.

I trained there when it was alive.

The old faces, old places come around.

Cheeky, though, eh?

Terrorists holed up on a derelict MOD site.

They're in woodland...

It was called Red Alpha on the maps.

Go!

Have you really got Andrea?

Oh, yes.

Paddington Green nick.

Special Branch quizmasters are with her.

Those animals.

I want her here, now.

Sure.

Bring Miss Chambers round to Thames House.

Right away, Tom.

You, of all people.

Why, Peter?

Boredom.

Crippling, chest-tearing, bum-clenching boredom...

With what this country's become.

Buy, sell, image, credit-card nirvana.

When the Soviet Union was crap, you thought,

yeah, we've got something.

My father died for it, democracy.

Now, there's nothing.

It's all gone...

Dead.

No-one believes in anything any more.

Then there was Andrea.

This posh girl,

turning herself inside out

for what she believes.

The passion for a new life, it nearly broke her,

but she's in good faith.

I always thought that about you, Tom.

You're in good faith.

So you're telling me you threw everything away

to go on a little robbery for your new anarchist faith?

Hmm?

It was a feint, wasn't it?

What were you doing there, Peter?

When Andrea gets here, I'll tell you.

She will be here?

No, she won't.

Because you don't have her, do you?

The oldest trick in the book.

You trained me.

You bastard.

Come back to us, Peter.

You know we don't burn our own.

You'll be given a desk job, something decently meaningless,

then retirement, pension, the perks.

You can be with Andrea.

She got away to Wales?

We assume so.

Don't make us crucify you, Peter.

I need the bog.

Peter, I still respect you.

I want to keep that.

Don't kid me, Tom.

You and I know there's only one future for me,

that's back in the field as a double agent,

betraying her, her friends.

There'll be no dream retirement cottage with garden.

Andrea picking roses in a see-through chiffon dress.

No disgrace.

You'd be serving your country.

I think that's what's she's doing.

Can I ask you a personal question?

What?

Would you give up your life

to protect what you believe in?

I would.

We know the terrible cost the service

can wreak on all of us.

And how the strong can be proved weak

because of its demands.

There but for the grace of God go all of us.

But don't lose sight of the fact

this was an extraordinary operation

and a great success.

An entire potentially dangerous extremist group

stopped in its tracks.

Its leader facing extradition, prosecutions at home,

and a point to the public very well made.

Very, very well done.

And now, Jools Siviter will eat his hat.

Well, little sisters...

Big sister says a wake for Peter Salter.

Free drinks from Vauxhall Cross upstairs at the George.

Then we can all go out tomorrow with clear heads

and welcome the President of the United States

to our shores,

unmolested by assorted Euro-anarchists.

Why bust into a geography department in a university

and kill yourself for it?

Geography.

Name of towns, rivers, valleys and hills...

It's mad.

So, the three aims of the service are?

Guys, don't do this to me.

Tell us what really goes on up at the Grid, Danny.

Well, I'll tell you one scam an officer was into.

Setting his own credit-card ratings.

Did they catch him?

They catch everyone in the end.

Was it you, Danny?

Don't be cheeky.

The three aims of the service are?

Come fly with me, Danny.

I wanna fly away!

River deep, mountain high!

Fly away.

I know what Peter Salter was up to!

Geography, hills and valleys.

National Ordnance Survey.

And the Survey's computers-

Air traffic control.

Right, they supply air traffic control

with information about the height of aircraft flight paths

above hills, valleys...

Yeah but you can't hack into air traffic control.

The only way in is direct to the mainframe.

Zoe, in the geography department

they've got PhDs working on the Ordnance Survey.

It's a way in!

I know what they're gonna do.

Yeah?

He's put a virus in the mainframe.

It'll down the system when the President

lands at Brize Norton four hours from now.

All right, I'll meet for a drink.

Tom.

Have you seen the news?

Air traffic control's gone down.

Bush is having to land in Paris and come by train.

What did they say happened?

Dunno, some obscure technical problem.

President of the United States is paramount.

The DTI has issued a statement saying

the computer malfunction at air traffic control was minor

and the shutdown automatic.

How was your day?

A man, who believed in a cause, killed himself for love.

Totally pointless.