Original subtitles

Isaac Turner, the home secretary, was shot and fatally wounded

by a gunman in Westminster.

It's not him.

I want you to put eyes on Danny Hart. And bring Gemma Garland in.

- Gemma Garland's suspended, ma'am. - For questioning.

Correction is in play, Tom. They're all suspects.

- We've got another meeting. - Cash flow?

Tracked his vehicle to White Rabbit's home address.

Get into their devices. I wanna hear every word.

Remember...

You may need a favour from a guy like me one day.

Doesn't look like police.

M.I.-6?

Who's protecting you?

The deputy commissioner, is he involved? The commissioner? How far up does this go?

You think you can lie to my face? And I'll doubt myself like some gaslit girlfriend?

The commander's taking a new lead in the investigation.

Rachel, you better come and see this.

You're not goin' anywhere.

You shoulda killed me when you had the chance.

You still think Whitlock is fake news, don't you?

He's involved, one way or another.

I told you, he should never have been let out.

I think it's fair to say he's not working alone. He been receiving instruction.

- From? - Simon.

- That name's coming up a lot. - Simon says: sixty-six.

Frank, we've arrested James Whitlock. You might need to rein it in.

Well, I wish I could, Fast Track, but we're kind of on a roll here.

I never met a marine with a heart murmur. That a recent succession?

- Somethin' happen on tour? - Frank, Noah Pierson is my suspect.

You got me. I'm a stone-cold killer.

Yes?

Sorry to trouble you, sir. Update from Tech.

Authorization required for executive action. Simon's flagged a concern.

Black Fish has lost command of C.T.C.

- God! - Who do you work for?

We are seeing data to suggest the operative currently poses a security risk.

- Data from who? - From Black Fish himself, sir.

Or from his heart monitor, to be exact.

Even if I tried to explain it, you wouldn't understand!

The data suggests the operative is in operative is suffering

increasing stress levels and a heightened risk of acute medical trauma.

Reads like interrogation. Not compromise. What makes Simon think he'll fold?

The operative's heart implant itself is at risk of failure, sir.

It also appears his handset is down.

If Black Fish cannot find a way to power his device,

he will correctly assume his life is in danger, and he may... talk.

How many more volts can your heart take before you blow a fuse, son?

He hasn't yet.

Would you like me to go back to Simon, sir?

Simon's drafted three options, sir.

Extraction. Chance of compromise: twenty-six percent.

Two, burn the operative. Chance of compromise: sixteen percent.

Option three: executive action. Chance of compromise: two percent.

Yes, people are less inclined to talk when they're dead.

Simon recommends Option Three, sir. With your approval, of course.

Do it right.

He was a good op, by all accounts.

Option Three approved.

Standby for executive action on Black Fish.

Deactivation, standing by.

Pull the plug.

- What the fuck? - It can't be the cattle prod.

It can't? You just put fifty thousand volts in him, Frank.

What're you, Amnesty International? What the fuck is the protocol, huh?

I mean, what do we do? Are we supposed to jumpstart the engine?

Phone...

- What's he sayin'? - He wants his phone.

Fuck it, cut his arm loose.

No way!

Yes!

Bit of an update, sir. Executive action deployed, as instructed.

The operative's heart implant was remotely deactivated at 12:39 p.m.

But?

The operative's implant was subsequently found to be active again at 12:41 p.m.

The operative, it appears, managed to deploy a charging device.

His handset.

It would appear to be his handset, yes, sir.

His handset was down.

It would appear his handset

subsequently became active again at 12:41 p.m.

The Captain's alive.

Alive and well it would seem, sir.

Heartrate's stabilized, blood pressure's back to normal. Black Fish is mobile.

Does he know what we did to him?

Rachel.

Excellent timing. Just got back a moment ago myself.

You look like you've seen a ghost. There's only one way through this, Rachel.

What's that?

Together.

This interview is being recorded and may be given in evidence

if this case goes to trial. I am Detective Inspector Nadia Latif.

The other officer present is...

Ma'am?

Acting Deputy Commander, Rachel Carey.

"Acting Deputy Commander". Make your mind up?

I want all the footage off that, by the way. I'm allowed.

his base and he's not there. I know of three other locations he uses.

Or has done in the past. A building site in Rotherhithe.

A disused car park on the Isle of Dogs. And a warehouse in Deptford.

It's never a gastropub overlooking the Thames, is it?

- My money's on the warehouse. - Hope you're right.

All these locations, I'm gonna have to start invoicing for mileage.

Well, I can hardly doorstep him myself, can I? The man viscerally loathes me.

- Sir? - Strange he still bears a grudge.

When all you did was hack his medical records

to make him believe he had cancer.

Frank was out of control. Somebody needed to intervene.

Besides, you have to cross the line sometimes.

That's how you know where the line is.

Your line keeps moving, Gemma.

I'll check out Deptford.

How would you prefer to be addressed? James? Jamie? Mister Whitlock?

I'd like you to call me James.

And I'd like you to call me Jamie.

And if either of you gets it wrong, you're out.

Movement. Cash Flow is mobile.

- Stay on him. - Copy that.

You've waived your rights to legal representation, Jamie. Why is that?

I never met a lawyer I liked.

They tend to come in handy when you've been arrested for a serious crime.

Didn't last time.

Stand down surveillance on Cash Flow. Phone, follow, and C.C.T.V.

Sir.

All units, stand down surveillance on Cash Flow. Abort.

All units, stand down surveillance on Cash Flow.

You understand that you're under arrest for the preparation of terrorist acts.

Conspiracy to commit mass murder, and possession of an unlicensed firearm?

That rifle's not unlicensed.

We're still in dispute with Southern County Firearms about that.

Who wants to brief me on Whitlock's previous?

Malicious communication, threats to kill, conspiracy to murder, overturned.

Was the investigation run out of C.T.C. or serious crime?

What was the name of Whitlock's arresting officer? Who was the S.I.O.?

Sorry, a bit before my time, sir.

If only there was a way of looking stuff up.

Request the original case files from the archives.

Yes, sir.

Where were you yesterday afternoon, around one P.M.?

Down the coast, obviously. Abbot's Cliff.

Why "obviously"?

- One o'clock was the E.T.A. - "E.T.A."?

Of the vessel.

You mean... the dinghy? The undocumented migrants?

- The land invasion. - How did you know what time it'd arrive?

Last phone communication was yesterday morning just before seven A.M.

A message from a contact named "Simon".

Are we tracking that number?

Sir, I'm still trying. It's fire-walled to fuck.

If you're interested in properties by the sea, Abbot's Cliff is nice.

We're struggling to get in touch with Simon.

- Oh, have you tried his landline? - Do you know his surname?

- Like he's gonna tell me that. - You're close then?

Yeah, you can't get close to someone like Simon. Not where he is.

Where's that?

Deep.

Deeper than you.

This'll be the part where you deny the Deep State exists.

No.

Which Department of the Deep State does Simon work for, Jamie?

Simon tells me what I need to know and nothing more.

Have you ever met Simon? In person?

What, when he's already risking his life as it is? What do you think?

Well, how do you know he is who he says he is?

Why did you leave your phone behind when you went down the coast, Jamie?

I went off radar. Is that a problem?

Might be for you.

It makes it harder for us to verify your whereabouts.

It makes it harder for us to prove that you were down by the coast, as you say,

and not somewhere else.

Like Westminster, for instance.

Westminster? Why would I go there?

- To assassinate Isaac Turner. - What? Isaac...

- Come on, Jamie. - He's been assassinated?

What, is that why you've brought me... Is that what you think I'm...

You think I assassinated the Home Secretary of Great Britain?

I gotta say, I don't see it myself.

Assassinating a Secretary of State, that takes...

military precision, planning, and execution.

You don't have the experience, the skills, or the discipline.

Yeah, you sure about that?

Picking off defenseless targets at sea. That's more your style.

No.

The man who killed Isaac Turner was... a professional assassin.

You don't strike me as a professional anything, Jamie.

Was it your idea to leave your phone behind?

Or was it Simon's?

Sir, hard copies of James Whitlock's original case file. There's a lot more...

- Just a second. - It's standard procedure for covert ops.

It seems to me, Simon wanted you off radar for a reason.

Simon made sure your whereabouts at the time of the attack

were unknown to everyone but himself.

She's giving him an alibi.

Wake up, Jamie. Whoever Simon is, he is not your friend.

You're gonna be looking at twenty-five years for Abbot's Cliff alone.

Add Westminster and you are gonna rot in Belmarsh for the rest of your life.

So, stop trying to defend him and start helping us find him.

Then maybe you and I can talk about a deal?

Sorry, ma'am?

Interview suspended.

Commander Pierson asked me to step in?

You better step in then.

Rachel.

- Glad I caught you. - Sorry, I needed some... air.

So, you came to an underground car park?

Sorry I had to pull you out of there.

Felt like you were going a bit off-message.

Bit of a Walter Mitty, isn't he, old Jamie Whitlock?

He's certainly an impressionable young man.

All that Simon stuff.

I'd be willing to bet Simon's a figment of Whitlock's imagination.

We're having a hard time tracing him, aren't we?

Are you sure it's not rest you need, Rachel?

Yeah.

Yeah, probably.

Well, for heaven's sake, take some.

You've earned it.

But before you disappear...

that catch up?

It's probably easier if I show you.

Won't take a minute.

I take it you're familiar with the camera coverage down here?

I am.

So, you'll be aware there are two cameras facing us,

but no line of sight to the inside of my boot.

So, try not to react.

It's put us in quite the pickle, the Geneva Convention.

He poses no physical threat,

but Wizard has enough dirt on us to see me tried at the Hague

and you fired for willful misconduct, amongst other things.

So, I think it's in all our interests to reach an agreement.

Any thoughts? I believe there's a budget at my discretion for consultants.

No doubt S.O.-fifteen could use a man of Wizard's talents.

Subject to security clearance, of course.

Look. I don't know what he meant to you.

Napier.

But big picture? No one's gonna miss him.

We saved the C.I.A. a pension, s'all we did.

Well, seven pensions, to be exact.

Why did you do it?

Honestly, you left me no choice.

No, I'm not talking about them. I'm talking about Isaac Turner.

It's a shame the Geneva Convention didn't stop you

before you killed him in cold blood.

I think the world would be a kinder place

if everyone stopped leaping to the least generous conclusions about everyone else.

I suggest you keep him in a safe house until he's fully vetted.

And please, drive carefully.

Well, I can't leave in this!

Sure you can. We can't both keep going walkabout. Clock's ticking on Whitlock.

One of us needs to stay to make sure we charge the fucker.

Wait... I can't drive across London with a man tied up in my boot!

Well, you can't take him on the Northern Line.

Go on!

Give up!

Give up!

You can't take it! You're gonna die!

Give up! Give up! Say it! Say it!

Take the straps off. Straps off! Get him down on the ground!

Deep breaths.

How did that compare?

Increased awareness. I could block out the pain for longer.

Perception of time was clearer, I think.

Did you count the seconds?

Twenty-two.

Twenty-two-point-four. Are we safe to continue?

Yes, sir.

Let's increase the methylphenidate to ninety milligrams,

increase the dextroamphetamine to forty-five.

Doctor Neuman?

Forgive me, Colonel...

If the operative's stats have stabilized and his mission isn't compromised,

what makes you think he still poses a threat?

We made an attempt on his life.

A person could take umbrage at a thing like that.

Although, the extent to which he is or was aware of the attempt remains unclear.

Then we have to assume that he suspects interference.

Is it a problem if he does?

Is it a problem if he thinks we flicked his kill switch?

Where is he now?

Black Fish has command of C.T.C.

He returned to his mission, like a deep cover op should.

Does that sound like a man that's gone rogue?

Not yet.

Would you want him back in your platoon? If he bore a grudge?

Sir, in the four years the Captain's served with us,

he outperformed every op in the squadron.

He's got an ego and a chip on his shoulder about the pullout.

But when it comes to our program?

He's as committed as any of us.

We all know what we signed up for, sir.

Thank you, Major.

It's true. A dog rarely turns on his master.

Even when the master turns on the dog.

What does Simon think?

Simon's asking for more Intelligence.

One empathizes.

- Noah. - Sir.

To what do I owe the pleasure?

I just wanted to say congratulations on Whitlock.

Thank you, sir. He's not charged yet...

And... to invite you to dinner!

Dinner! That's that thing people have

when they're allowed to leave work in the evenings?

Well, whenever you have time. I know that you're a... busy man.

Thank you, sir. I'd be honored.

As I say, James Whitlock is... not charged yet.

You've reached Frank's house, please leave a message.

Yeah...

Yeah, it's all been taken care of.

Alright. Okay.

Colonel Figgis?

Yes, Cameron. Good afternoon.

My analysis supports your analysis.

Black Fish has resumed his mission, I can confirm.

How does he seem?

He... appeared... pensive, somewhat. I must admit.

Pensive?

Oh, goodness, am I on with the whole Army?

Pensive, you were saying.

Yes. Rattled. Slightly rattled.

But then, the sudden appearance of a boss can do that.

I wouldn't draw anything too conclusive from it.

Thank you, Cameron.

- I really wouldn't... - Thank you, Cameron.

Colonel, I must add that it was extremely difficult to get Black Fish into C.T.C.

in such an impossibly tight timeframe.

If we had to repeat the process with a different candidate now,

I can't promise that it would succeed.

Colonel Figgis?

We're still here.

Well, of course, where there's a will...

Yeah.

Yeah, I've gotta go.

I don't suppose you'd know anything about a grey Toyota

that's been tailing me, by any chance?

Who gave you the authority to be here?

2017 Toyota Prius. This afternoon.

This is a crime scene. The chain of evidence has been compromised!

It was there, then it wasn't.

- I need to call SOCO's and coroners. - Go on then.

They've taken half the evidence!

Shall I ask them to put it back?

This is proof he's a killer. He did this!

He who?

Identify yourself.

Oh, charming.

I knew you'd forget me one day, but this is...

Why are you covering for him?

Who are you working with?

Who am I working with?

The last incoming call was from your number.

If I were to go back, how many more calls would I find between you and Frank Napier?

You know, Rachel, in some ways, you're really clever,

but in other ways, you're really not.

You came up fast, I'll give you that.

But you came up so fast, you forgot to make friends along the way.

So fast they forgot to teach you one of the fundamentals.

Sooner or later, you're gonna fuck up.

And when you do, it won't be the Commissioner who'll come to haul you out

of a ditch at three in the morning. It will be the Officers you started with.

On the ground. The relationships you have built over the years.

Through loyalty. Trust.

And blackmail.

Shut up, George, you're not even meant to be here.

Guv.

- I didn't ask for your help, Danny. - No, you asked fucking Frank Napier.

Apparently, you'd sooner ask Frank, Gemma Garland,

or just about anyone else before you'd come to me.

Yet look who's here for you now?

If you needed help, Rachel, for god's sake,

why did you go to Frank instead of me?!

It was an emergency! There was a hostile actor taking over C.T.C.!

Well, you can't stop him if you're extradited to the U.S.

to explain what the fuck happened here!

Fuck... Fuck, I fucked up!

- Yes, you did. - Fuck!

- Fuck... I fucked up, Danny. - It's gonna be alright.

Fuck! No...

Rachel, it's gonna be alright. But you have to listen to me now. Okay?

We've had eyes on you since the attack at the Q.E.-two.

I've pulled your surveillance already. You're not being tailed anymore.

Why were you here looking for Frank?

Why are they taking pictures of him?

All in good time, Rachel. All in good time.

If at all.

Shall we get you to a safe house?

There's something else.

Ralph?

Check Wizard for tracking devices.

"Wizard"?

Ralph.

Left shoe. It's in my left shoe.

He put it in the sole. It's... He put it there.

My tablets...

- Sciatica. - You haven't changed.

Guv?

Looks like you've had quite the afternoon, Ralph.

Did you see what happened in there?

I should never like to see that man again.

Commissioner.

Not intruding, I hope.

Commander Pierson.

Thanks for the check-in earlier. Appreciate that.

No problem.

It's weird...

No one checks in when I'm unarmed and outnumbered seven to one,

but that's okay. We're all busy.

But please know...

mission recalibrated and resumed.

Of course.

And should something happen to me, Commissioner...

Please know: I will rise from the grave

and make sure something happens to you.

And your children.

And your grandchildren.

- Where are we going? - Rubin Road.

You got a problem with that?

Just... give me a minute.

Ma'am?

Tom. How's everything with... White Rabbit?

- No change, no change. - Pull all surveillance.

Is everything alright, ma'am?

It's just resources, Tom.

Can we go now?

Where are they... Where are they taking...

Chessington World of Adventures.

Pull surveillance detail on White Rabbit. Phone, follow, and...

C.C.T.V., sir?

No. C.C.T.V., no change, no change.

Why would I wanna kill Isaac Turner? I barely even knew who he was.

Why would you wanna kill a boatload of asylum seekers?

- I wouldn't. - You nearly did.

Firearms said that you had them in your sight.

A minute later, there would've been a bloodbath.

Really?

How was I gonna open fire with no ammunition?

What, Firearms didn't mention that then? They wouldn't've found a single bullet.

What was it then, Jamie? A dry run?

You seen the scope on that rifle?

I can spot a small boat three miles out with that.

Gives me plenty of time to start shooting.

With a camera.

Whitlock's rifle, what's the caliber?

Rifle is an A.X.-338 bolt-action.

You're making a film now, Jamie, is that what you're telling us?

Why do you think we're doing all this?

If the government won't tell us how many illegals are coming in,

someone has to record the truth.

So, unless making documentaries is against the law,

you got nothing on me in Abbot's Cliff.

Simon told me to go there, so I did, just like your colleague said

And you can't prove that I was in Westminster

any more than I can prove I wasn't.

So far, all you've got is your word against mine.

So, are you gonna charge me with something or can I go home to my kids?

Oh, Rachel...

Rachel, come in, come in.

Ralph!

I am sure I thought you were dead.

- No, still alive, Gemma. Just about. - Well, thank goodness.

You've had us under surveillance.

I presume you've been monitoring Frank Napier too?

We'll need all the C.C.T.V. footage. Everything you have on Napier.

Why?

Do you understand the extraordinary risks that have been taken,

and will need to be taken, in order to clean up this...

well, there's... no other word for it

- Shit show. - Clusterfuck.

Mess.

I can't stop the U.S. investigating when one of theirs is missing in action.

But I might be able to delay them.

Besides yourself and Pierson, who else knows Napier's dead?

How often would Frank check in with the Embassy?

Once a week?

- In person? - No. No, not if he could help it, no.

Frank Napier is not dead... until we say he is.

Hay fever.

I do find negotiations crass.

It's one thing the Americans do better than us.

They just have a way of coming out and saying it that seems to elude me.

We expect things in return, is what I think Gemma here is trying to say.

Yes. There you go.

We expect things in return.

What do you want?

There are files in the archive on James Whitlock.

His earlier case.

What about them?

They were redacted. Heavily.

We'd like them to stay that way.

Is that it?

No, Rachel. No, that's not it.

That barely touches the sides.

A man is sitting in interrogation,

soon to be charged with the murder of Isaac Turner.

And the man we should be charging has infiltrated S.O.-15.

Taken over counter terrorism,

without a word of complaint from the commissioner's office.

And all you two seem to care about is exploiting my efforts to stop him?

I offered you my help with Noah Pierson.

That offer still stands. Two things can be true at once.

Whitlock can be guilty even if he's innocent.

What is this?

For the benefit of the recording,

D.C. Tan is playing video footage recorded during the Q.E.-2 attack.

Do you recognize the figure on the screen?

No. No way, I'm not doing this.

- Can you look at the screen, James? - You can't make me watch it.

For the benefit of the recording, the suspect is refusing to look at the screen.

Do you think I don't know how you do this? This is how you fitted me up last time!

You got nothing on me, so you make it up!

Just like Simon said you would...

Well, it's not gonna work this time.

It's not gonna work, 'cause you've got nothing on me.

I wasn't in Westminster, I was in Abbot's Cliff,

and you got nothing on me there either! No bullets.

Because there weren't any bullets to find,

no shootings because nobody got shot...

Nothing! You think I'm fucking stupid?! You think I don't know what this is?!

How do you think I got out early?!

I've got more on all of you than you've got on me!

'Cause I know what this is! This is deepfake! This is correction!

James Whitlock, do you recognize the figure on the screen?

No! No, I don't!

- Get back! - Okay.

- Don't come near me! Get off! - Get down!

- You think you can silence me again?! - Cuff him!

- You will not silence me again! - Calm down!

You won't silence me again.

Get down! Calm down!

You see what he's capable of.

He put down six armed guards single-handedly.

He can appear and disappear from government buildings without a trace.

Simon.

Does that name mean anything to you?

What's the connection?

James Whitlock was groomed online.

He thinks he's been talking to some Deep State insider.

Well, for all I know, maybe he is.

Either way, "Simon" has been setting Whitlock up from the start.

And just like Pierson, my ops room can't trace him.

Does that offer of help still stand?

What?

Beg your pardon, sir? Was it the caliber of the rifle you wanted?

The rounds.

No rounds came in with the weapon, sir.

That's impossible. Check the logs.

Gotcha. How long have you been looking for this?

Longer than ten minutes anyway.

What can you tell me?

Well, the messages to James Whitlock from quote-Simon-unquote

didn't come from a phone, they came from a computer.

A computer? Where, do you know?

Would you like the I.P. address and location?

The I.N.A.?

"International Nautical Agency. Albert Embankment."

- Where are you going? - Albert Embankment.

What? Am I a prisoner here? I'm running an investigation.

Not without backup you're not.

- It's a standard police inquiry. - Yeah, all the same.

You're not police, Danny. I'm still the Deputy Commander of S.O.-15.

I need to pursue an urgent line of inquiry and you have no authority to stop me.

We can't risk something going wrong again.

Major Greggs, who are your best men?

Three, four, six, seven, nine, twelve.

You know what to do.

It's thyroid.

Now. Since you're here, Ralph, can I interest you in a little freelance work?

- Got it? - This can't be right.

It says here the weapon was recovered with two full mags.

Well, I think you'd better find them then.

I'm happy to check again, sir. But I remember the rifle coming in.

If there'd've been any rounds with it, I'd've seen them.

Everything you said?

About one bloke taking care of six armed guards on his tod?

In and out of government buildings? No trace of him anywhere.

Yes?

There's a squadron. Call themselves "The Increment".

They're special forces but they're not part of the S.A.S. or the S.B.S.

But they select the very best of the best of the best of both.

As far as I'm aware, they're answerable to no one but themselves and M.I.-6.

Sounds like them.

How do you know so much about it?

Deputy Commander Rachel Carey. I believe you're expecting me.

I understand you've got a warrant

and you're entitled to look at any staff laptop you like,

I just need to know where you wanna start.

- Goodnight, Mary. - Goodnight, Brian.

- See ya tomorrow, Mary. - Night Hew.

There's four floors and twelve offices on each. Take your pick.

- Goodnight, Mary. - Goodnight, Simon.

- Which office does he work in? - Simon?

I'm calling it "Operation Frankenstein".

I think Simon's office is the one at the end.

Do you know everyone who works here by name?

Should do, been here long enough.

You're like busses, you lot.

- Problem? - Delivery. Need to sign for it.

You alright if I leave that with you? Only I've got to...

Sorry, George.

Excuse me, this doesn't...

Ground floor.

Doors opening.

We haven't got long. More are coming.

I strongly suggest you follow me.

Please!

C'mon!

Basement.

Rachel, can't you see? We're better off together.