Original subtitles

Previously on Strike Back...

You going somewhere?

I can't do this anymore.

What's that?

It's a list of my requirements if I'm gonna

come work for Section 20.

Work for Section 20?

Me and your boy saved the lives of all those hostages.

That hotel would have gone up in flames if it weren't for us!

The is the man that we think is Latif?

This man is Abasi Sawalha.

Latif outmaneuvered us all.

You will tell me everything I need to know.

You were brought in to identify Latif,

a man whom it turned out you'd never even seen.

If Latif, connects back to what happened to me in Iraq.

You don't want to prove all this just to end up with a

bullet in your brain, do you?

(TRAIN WHISTLE BLOWING)

(TRAIN WHISTLE CONTINUES)

(PEOPLE CHATTERING)

Confirming targets.

GRANT: We've got you.

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

Target one confirmed. Move in.

GRANT: (OVER RADIO) I repeat, target one confirmed.

(WHISPERING) What the fuck is going on?

I'm standing out like a dildo in Disneyland.

STONEBRIDGE: (OVER RADIO) Hold your position. Sierra one, camera up.

We see you.

STONEBRIDGE: Target one is approaching.

GRANT: Target one, Beruti Lefu. South African national.

Middle-ranking underworld player.

Seen here with a known contact of... Latif.

SCOTT: (ON RADIO) Okay, got eyes on the "Three Stooges."

Looks like they got to where they're going.

He's hired muscle and he's on the move.

I want you up there.

I want to know what he's carrying.

But, most of all, I want to know who he's meeting.

(AFRICAN MUSIC PLAYS)

(BRIEFCASE CLICKS OPEN)

GRANT: Status?

Sierra in position.

Kilo in position.

Delta in position. Hey, who are you talking to?

STONEBRIDGE: All right, let's move in three...two...

Who are you talking to?

No one, buddy, no one. Just keep cooking, huh?

What the hell is that? Who are you talking to?

SCOTT: Not now, buddy, not now, huh?

What the fuck?

MAN: Who are you talking to? God!

(LAUGHING)

(LAUGHING) You're talking to God?

That's fucking funny, huh?

MAN: (YELLING) Hey God! He's talking to you.

(MAN CONTINUES LAUGHING LOUDLY)

Hey, God, the American is talking to God!

Hey, shh, shh... Come on.

Shoosh? Yeah.

(LAUGHS) Ahh! Ahh!

(MAN ON STREET SCREAMS INDISTINCTLY)

Do you hear that?

Yeah, let's go!

Target visual!

(GUNSHOTS FIRED)

MARSHALL: (ON RADIO) Targets on the move!

Capture. Do not kill. Repeat, capture, do not kill.

(BONES BREAKING) (SCREAMING)

Fuck!

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

(AFRICAN MUSIC CONTINUES PLAYING)

Fuck!

(GUNSHOTS) (PEOPLE SCREAMING)

STONEBRIDGE: Stop! Put the gun down!

STONEBRIDGE: Shit.

GRANT: (ON RADIO) Give me status.

(HEAVY BREATHING)

GRANT: Confirm. Target is alive.

Is he alive? Confirm.

Is he alive?

Shit. Target two is down.

I repeat, target two is down.

(AFRICAN MUSIC PLAYING)

(THROWS BRIEFCASE OPEN) Shit!

(DOG BARKING) (BABY CRYING)

(GRUNTING)

(GRUNTS)

Stay down!

(GUN FIRES)

For fuck sake. Capture, not kill.

(LAUGHS)

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYS)

♪ Strike Back 02x03 ♪ Episode 3 Original Air Date on August 26, 2011

== sync, corrected by elderman ==

REPORTER: This is eyewitness news.

REPORTER: A cloudy start for the day, but clear skies are

expected to revert later.

Cape town...

(REPORTER CONTINUES REPORTING THE WEATHER)

GUARD 1: Are we good to go, Viho?

(LAUGHS) Yep. Let's hit the road.

(DOOR LOCKS)

GUARD: All doors locked, sealed, and secured.

Unit 71, travelling.

Okay, you are free to go.

Roll, Jedi.

(WHISTLES)

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

MARSHALL: You'd better hope he talks.

STONEBRIDGE: If I hadn't taken him out,

he would've killed you.

He only got that chance because of you.

I don't need you rushing to my assistance, Sergeant.

Okay.

You end up killing two of the men we're supposed to bring in.

Threatening our only lead to Latif.

MARSHALL: If it hadn't been for Scott...

Talking about me again?

GRANT: Well?

He's the muscle, the petty thief from Soweto.

We're not being held up by a common criminal.

GRANT: Right, with me.

Yes, Ma'am.

Now, let me make this clear.

Whoever it is you're most afraid of right

now is nothing...

Compared to me.

GRANT: All right. He's got good family?

Yeah. You've got a mother...got a father...

And two sisters.

Right. Find them. Bring them in. Leave no trace.

SINCLAIR: Yes, Ma'am. CAPTOR: Wait!

I don't know who the man is we were going to see.

CAPTOR: I didn't see his face.

What was in the case? Hmm?

What was in the case?

Look, what happened out there, happened because of us.

There is no "us." Kate...

Michael, you made your feelings perfectly clear.

When we're out there, you can treat me as a soldier.

GRANT: He sold route maps for an armored truck company.

Get them all on the phone!

I want every truck, every driver, stopped and secured, now!

This isn't where my dad lives.

Don't you worry, lad. You'll see your dad soon enough.

(TRUCK SCREECHES)

DRIVER: Terry...

Jeff, that's my boy.

Jeff, that's my son.

DRIVER: Terry, what the fuck?

(TIRES SCREECHING)

(DOORS OPEN AND SHUT)

(COCKS GUN)

(SPRAY-PAINTING)

MAN OVER RADIO: Unit 71, state your position.

If we go out there, we are dead.

This is command control... JEFF: Understand?

Come in, over. Jeff, that's my boy.

You understand? That's my fucking boy!

MAN ON RADIO: This is command control...

Unit 71. Come in, over... Unit 71? Please respond.

I'm picking that up...

You can't pick that up, Jeff.

Unit 71, please respond.

That's my boy! This is command control!

Please, state your position, over.

State your position, Unit 71.

Unit 71, state your position, over...

Jeff! (GUN FIRES)

(CRYING) Jeff, fuck man!

Unit 71, please, come in, over.

DRIVER: Oh!

Fuck.

(DOOR OPENS)

(SPEAKS IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

Yeah, listen to your dad. Come over here for a moment.

Hey. Hey, where are you taking my son?

DRIVER: Take me. CONNOLLY: Stay there.

Where are you taking him, sir?

CONNOLLY: I want you to look at the trees.

You see the way they bend in the wind?

I want you to watch the shapes that they make. Okay?

Please...

That's a fine boy you have there.

(GUN FIRES)

CONNOLLY: Go.

(BOMBS EXPLODE)

(GUNSHOTS CONTINUE)

(DEVICE BEEPING)

CONNOLLY: Come on, Hugo! Come on, let's go!

(DEVICE BEEPS OFF)

CONNOLLY: Hugo, move! Hugo! (GUNSHOTS FIRED)

(SCREAMING) CONNOLLY: Aw, fuck me!

CONNOLLY: For fuck's sake.

(SWORD SCRAPING)

Take his hands off. Put a bullet through his teeth.

(GUN FIRES) (TERRY GASPS)

(SWORD SCRAPES)

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(REPORTER TALKS ON RADIO) GRANT: How did we miss this?

A call did go out. The robbery was already in progress.

All three guards were shot.

What's strange is that no money was taken.

What about the other guy?

Shot, hands severed, jaw blown to pieces, presumably...

To hide his identity, yeah.

Well, the only survivor was the little boy.

Son of one of the dead guards. He was abducted near his

home earlier in the afternoon.

Jesus...

The CCTV in the back of the van was sprayed...

But we've managed to reconfigure some of the images

captured just beforehand.

(COMPUTER SCANNING) (REPORTER TALKS ON RADIO)

Daniel Connolly.

SINCLAIR: Hardcore IRA.

The Good Friday Agreement put him on the run.

SINCLAIR: Kosovo, Chechnya...

Now, he touts himself around as some kind of mercenary.

All right, there was something else on that van.

I want to know what it was.

This is not about money. This is about hate.

(SHOWER RUNNING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(MOANING) (GROANING)

(MOANING CONTINUES)

(LOUD MOANING)

(GRUNTING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

What's the matter?

Tell me.

I had a dream last night.

I was a boy, back at my mother's old house.

You could smell the chips frying in the kitchen.

And the creaky floorboard, on the bottom step.

I came down the stairs and opened the front door.

Someone was standing there...

Someone I knew.

Yeah?

They'd come to kill me.

(WHISPERS) To kill me...

Teague!

So?

Hugo downloaded the files, before he got shot.

We're going visiting.

But Daniel, the data's no good to us without a hacker.

We don't have Hugo.

Well, there's another Hugo coming.

(COMPUTER SCANNING)

Hey.

What you got there?

MURPHY: What have I got?

Yeah.

That, Sergeant, is a future-proof, impenetrable

encryption data storage unit.

Wow. Mmm-hmm.

You know, in my experience, nothing is impenetrable...

We know it wasn't money, they were after, so what was it?

Data, on the encryption device.

What kind of data?

Well, that we don't know.

Different units belong to various organizations.

But, somehow, I doubt they were interested in the payroll

for the Cape Town ballet,

or the University's annual accounts.

They might just be interested

in the security protocols of a major defense contractor.

ATAT Systems.

GRANT: Who's the main man here, in Cape Town?

SINCLAIR: Kenneth Bratton.

Did you say, "Bratton"? SINCLAIR: Yeah.

You have our attention, Sergeant.

Chemical weapons guy. Latif.

Could be something.

(OPERA MUSIC BLASTS ON CAR RADIO)

(MUSIC STOPS)

(DOOR CLOSES)

CONNOLLY: Mr. Bratton.

Who are you people? How did you get in here?

(SCREAMING AND YELLING)

BOY: (ON VIDEO) Hi, Mom.

CONNOLLY: Lovely family, Ken.

BRATTON: What have you done with them?

They're fine. They'll be fine.

What do you want?

Oh, I think you know exactly what I want.

(DEVICE BEEPING)

(DISTORTED CHILDREN'S LAUGHTER)

You know Bratton was captured by the Republican Guard in Iraq?

And, that, John Porter... John Porter got him out.

In February, 2003. No weapons designer should have

been anywhere near there.

And that was about the same time Scott was booted

out of Delta Force.

What if there's a connection?

The man that got shot in the face at the heist...

May have been Hugo Lynch.

A computer hacker that worked with Connolly.

Why?

Because a new computer hacker just came to town.

An American know as Julian Buckley.

Wanted for cleaning out the United Bank of

Ireland two years ago.

And he's been flagged?

Mmm-hmm. By Interpol.

In from Kinshasa. Paid for his ticket in cash two

hours before the flight.

And you think he's a replacement for Lynch?

I think it's a possibility, Colonel.

I've tracked his hire car to an address in

the Bo-Kaap area.

Colonel, I'd like to volunteer to talk to Bratton.

Volunteer? Yes, Ma'am.

No. Stonebridge?

GRANT: All right, I need you guys out in the field.

Finally.

You're gonna be tracking a man called Buckley.

Sergeant Richmond will brief you.

I need you to go and see Bratton. Okay.

All right? Kid gloves.

You have your orders.

(CHURCH BELLS CHIMING)

(RADIO PLAYS)

You know, I'm the one that should be talking to Bratton.

Now's not the time.

Now's not the time.

Well, let me remind you of something, buddy.

I'm the guy that got kicked out of the army for

something that I did not do...

And pricks like Bratton are out there playing, "Hide the

fucking chemical weapons."

You don't know that.

I do know that.

There's something else I know. I got screwed

over in Iraq, by someone.

I wanna find them. I wanna kill them.

I thought you were with me on that one?

Yeah, I just think, maybe,

you're letting your personal life get in the way of this mission.

Personal life?

That's fucking funny, coming from you.

What are you talking about?

I'll tell you what I'm talking about, Michael.

If you wanna play hide the sausage with Kate...

Oh, that's genius coming from you!

You have no fucking clue what you're talking about.

Prick.

Asshole.

That's him.

I've never been so glad to see a terrorist in my life.

(CAR ENGINE STARTS)

(CAR DOOR OPENS)

MARSHALL: Thank you for seeing me so quickly.

BRATTON: It's fine.

I know the British High Commission...

Isn't in the business of wasting people's time.

BRATTON: And you're here as a...?

Criminal Intelligence liaison with the South African police.

Right.

Uh, Miss Marshall, this is Darin Morgan.

Pleasure.

You're with ATAT?

He's our military consultant.

Just oiling the wheels, that's all.

If you'd like to come through...

Thank you for your concern.

As a result of the robbery...

I've already requested that our security codes

are changed immediately.

Well, if I can advise you, sir, I do think you

need to be careful.

Of course.

Have you had any contact with this man?

No. Who is he?

His name is Daniel Connolly.

We believe he may be allied with a terrorist called Latif.

He's the one who attacked the hotel in India.

His stated aim is to attack the West with a weapon of

mass destruction.

(SCOFFS) Well, he's looking in the wrong place.

We design weapon systems here but we don't house them.

That would be against South African law. And

we're very scrupulous.

Your family not around?

No, school holidays. They're at our beach house.

Sounds nice.

Hmm. Yeah, it is.

BRATTON: I appreciate the offer, but really my security

is more than adequate.

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

MARSHALL: I understand you were in Iraq, before the invasion.

Yeah, that's right.

Doing what, might I ask?

I was asked to report on Saddam's weapons stock.

Which was non-existent?

Well, he fooled cleverer men than me.

It's my card.

Thank you.

She's military. What did she want?

Uh, something about the, uh, bank job robbery.

And, what's that got to do with Iraq?

I don't know.

Let me speak to a contact in Whitehall.

I'll find out where she's from and get them to back off.

MORGAN: We don't want any trouble, Ken.

(CARS HONKING)

What the fuck is going on?

(PEOPLE YELLING)

Fuck, I think he made us.

No, he didn't make us.

Shit. He made us. Move, move, move!

Go around, buddy!

Move, move! (YELLING)

(TIRES SCREECHING)

Stop! Stop!

(GUNSHOTS FIRED) (PEOPLE SCREAMING)

SCOTT: Stay down! Stay down, now!

Stay down! Fuck!

(PEOPLE YELLING)

(YELLING CONTINUES)

(GUNSHOTS FIRED)

(PEOPLE SCREAMING) SCOTT: Fuck!

Someone call an ambulance!

(ENGINE REVVING)

(SCREAMING CONTINUES)

(GRUNTING) (SCREAMING)

MAN: Get down!

(SIREN WAILS)

SCOTT: Move, fucking move!

(GUNSHOTS FIRED)

SCOTT: Fucker!

(DRILLING)

Get out of the way!

CONSTRUCTION WORKER: What the fuck are you doing, man?

(GUNSHOT FIRES) (SCREAMING)

(GRUNTING)

(GRUNTING CONTINUES)

(GUNSHOTS FIRED) (TIRES SCREECHING)

Michael, get a medic!

(PHONE RINGING) Fuck!

(PHONE CONTINUES RINGING)

(PHONE BEEPS ON) Yeah?

You were supposed to call 20 minutes ago.

Yeah, I'm here now, huh.

TEAGUE: (ON PHONE) The Kimberly Hotel.

Be there in 10 minutes, no weapons, or the deal's off.

SCOTT: Kimberly Hotel, 10 minutes, got it.

(SIRENS WAILING IN DISTANCE)

SCOTT: Don't worry about that. Come on, come on, come on.

(RADIOS CHATTERING) GRANT: Bring that up.

Colonel Grant, you wanted to speak to me?

When you met with Kenneth Bratton did you, at any point,

intimate that he was lying?

Certainly not. Although I'm fairly certain he was.

Well, he's put in a complaint about you,

and wants you to back off.

What does the Ministry say?

Well, they're all twitchy aren't they?

ATAT's one of the largest publicly-traded

companies in the U.K.

Yes, and Connolly is targeting them.

He should be as concerned about that as we are.

Then, why isn't he?

Excuse me. Stonebridge and Scott need to speak to you urgently.

STONEBRIDGE: (ON PHONE) Colonel, Buckley's down...

And Scott's going to take his identity.

Run that by me, again.

Scott took a call on Buckley's phone.

Yeah, the bloke heard an American accent,

must've thought it was Buckley.

Yeah, 'cause we all sound the same, right?

And you're seriously suggesting Scott goes in

there as Buckley, unarmed?

That's right. The only thing is, he has 10 minutes to get there.

How do we know Connolly won't recognize Buckley?

He had half a torn playing card, in his pocket.

We just don't think he will.

There's also the fact that Buckley's an expert hacker.

What's she saying?

Well, I can brief him in Cyber Ops.

In ten minutes? On the phone?

Well, the alternative is we surround the building.

Bring his contact in for interrogation.

Yeah, but if we do that, Connolly's in the wind.

Put Scott on.

Scott.

Yeah?

I want you to listen to me very carefully.

Yeah, I'm listening.

Patch this through.

(DEVICE BEEPS)

(SPEAKING INAUDIBLY)

No, Colonel, I've got his file in my hand.

(SPEAKING INAUDIBLY THROUGHOUT)

It's a green light, buddy.

CONNOLLY: And she's Irish, is she?

BRATTON: Kate Marshall. Captain Kate Marshall.

She's British Army intelligence.

Darling, you should be ashamed of yourself.

We have a contact at the Ministry of Defense in London.

She's assigned to some special tactical unit. Led by...

Colonel Eleanor Grant.

BRATTON: Look, I'm telling you everything I know.

I'm cooperating with you completely.

I just want to know that my family are going to be safe.

This'll soon be over, Ken.

I have a good feeling about this.

It's all going to end perfectly.

We're late.

Yeah, well...

He doesn't show up, I'll just have myself a drink.

If I hear gunfire, I'll come help.

Don't worry yourself, buddy. You hear gunfire, I'll be dead.

Here, that's mine.

I got Buckley's.

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

(BLUES MUSIC PLAYS)

Can I grab a Laphroaig on the rocks, please?

BARTENDER: La-what?

Laphroaig, uh...

Just give him a scotch. Neat.

SCOTT: Thanks, what are you drinking?

Same.

Can you make that two?

SCOTT: Fuck me, that taste like... Shite. Yeah.

Everything here is.

Well, I don't know about that.

Quite a lovely Irish accent going on, huh?

Thank you.

You, uh, you meeting someone?

Yeah. You.

There's a room upstairs.

Want to see it?

(MOANS)

Take your clothes off.

What's the matter?

I'm just wondering whether you're going to fuck me or kill me.

Take them off, and you'll find out.

What about you?

Good things come to those who wait.

Is that a promise?

Well?

Turn around.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Do I get the part?

You sure do.

(BANGING ON DOOR)

Who's that? A friend.

I love a threesome.

That's not the kind of threesome I was talking about.

What's wrong? Not pretty enough for you?

Fuck, no! Ahh...

(CELL PHONE RINGING)

Shit.

(SILENCES PHONE)

(PHONE RINGS AGAIN)

(SILENCES PHONE)

(BLUES MUSIC PLAYS)

I'm looking for a friend of mine. Big guy. American.

Upstairs.

(BANGING OUTSIDE)

(VAN DOOR CLOSES)

STONEBRIDGE: (ON COMMS) Scott's been taken, I'm in pursuit.

Charlie one is a gray-panel van heading north.

Checking coordinates.

Bringing you onto visual.

(COMPUTER BEEPS)

We've got you.

GRANT: Zero one, do you have eyes on the van?

Negative, I have no visual of Charlie one.

We're trying to track Scott by his cell phone.

That's not gonna work! Scott gave me his cell phone!

He took Buckley's with him.

STONEBRIDGE: (ON COMMS) I have two exits up ahead.

Muizenberg or the airport?

Julia, do you hear me? Muizenberg or airport?

MURPHY: Satellite locked on Charlie one. Switching.

Two exits there. Which one? Muizenberg or the airport? Talk to me.

MURPHY: Exit 26. Muizenberg.

You've got them. They're right there with you. Right there!

STONEBRIDGE: Shit!

STONEBRIDGE: Charlie one is in the wind. I repeat,

Charlie one is in the wind.

Shit.

(SATELLITE TURNS OFF)

MURPHY: Satellite uplink's been lost.

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

The accepted wisdom is that, whoever's in charge in Egypt...

In Libya, wherever, there's always opportunities.

MORGAN: My enemy's enemy is my friend.

Should be our company motto.

You all right there, Ken?

Of course.

"My enemy's enemy is my friend."

If there was a problem, you'd tell me, right?

You'd be the first.

(DISTORTED BREATHING)

CONNOLLY: Mr. Buckley, I presume.

I liked her welcome much better.

You were late.

I was followed.

Oh yeah? By who?

How the fuck should I know?

See, the thing is...

I have a unit of British military intelligence looking for me.

Section 20...

Good for you.

It's headed by a woman called Eleanor Grant.

Do you know her?

No. I don't know her.

See, back in the day, she used to send

pricks just like you...

To kill me.

Do you want my fucking services or not?

Oh, yes, I do, very much.

But you're not Julian Buckley.

You're a fucking liar.

And fucking liars like you all get the same treatment...

(TURNS ON BOMB)

(BOMB BEEPING DOWN)

Fuck. Fuck.

(BOMB CONTINUES BEEPING)

Fuck you!

Last coordinates were down in the valley. Laurensford.

It's farm country.

All right, it's open country, proceed with caution.

GRANT: Do you understand?

STONEBRIDGE: (ON COMMS) Roger that.

Shit.

(BOMB CONTINUES BEEPING)

(GRUNTING)

Fuck. Shit.

(GRUNTING)

(SCREAMS)

Eyes on Charlie One.

Fuck me!

(BOMB CONTINUES BEEPING)

(BEEPS PHONE ON)

(CRYING)

(TURNS OFF PHONE)

Stonebridge, report.

Fuck.

(BEEPING) (SCREAMING)

Fuck!

Fuck you! Fuck!

Fucking...!

Sergeant, report!

Fuck you!

That was Scott.

(BEEPING QUICKENS)

I'm going in.

Jesus!

STONEBRIDGE: Fuck.

(HEAVY BREATHING OVER SPEAKER)

(THUNDER CLAPPING)

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING)

== sync, corrected by elderman ==