All language subtitles for Ultimate Force (2002) - S02E03 - Wannabes (576p x265 Panda)

We have eyeball.

Two's up.

Huh?

They're going upstairs.

Pete?

Pete? Are you still with us?

Mmm. Shopping.

Yeah, well, don't forget the teabags.

We have a go.

- 'Can I help you? '
- Is that the news desk?

- 'Yes.'
- I'm gonna give you a word.

Next time you hear it, you'll understand.

The word is Albion.

And it means death.

Sorry to disturb you so late.
Is your husband in?

Pete? He's... operational.

Of course. Left hand, right hand.

- what?
- Breakdown in communications?

Yeah, well, you're just a Rupert.

Sorry to have disturbed you.

- what did you want him for?
- Er... Off-the-record chat.

- Off the record?
- This and that.

Official secret.

Can't tell me or won't?

It's really nothing for you to worry about.

Henno.

You can come in. I won't bite.

Is this it?

Is this the best we can do?
What have we become?

Wannabes.

Pop idols on blind dates
with big brothers.

Our streets are full of shit.

Infested, diluted
with the pox of political correctness.

What you staring at?

We were great once.

We had an empire. Now we're enslaved
by the politics of Zog.

Second-class citizens in our country.
In 50 years, we'll be the white minority!

Do you want me to audition? I'll audition.

Why settle for 15 minutes of fame
when you can have infamy forever?

It's supposed to be fast food.

I could have you
under the trades descriptions act.

On two counts.

Henno isn't so bad. You've just
got to know how to handle him.

Thanks.

Pete says he's a big softie.

- They've been friends a long time.
- More like brothers.

Your husband doesn't have a problem
with authority.

No, he does. He just puts his brain
into gear before driving off.

He hates you just as much
as Henno does. In fact, they all do.

I appreciate your honesty.

Honesty. Now there's a thing.

It's a perfect excuse if you think about it.

He says he's operational.
I have no idea where he is.

When he wants to go off, he just goes.

- You don't trust him?
- No, I do.

I've got no choice.

I have to.

Oh, yeah. Put your hand there.

That is so hot!

Are you sure
you haven't done this before?

Yes, that is so sexy.

Mmm. Oh, yeah.
Do that thing with your lips.

Whey-hey! Nice one, Louis!

- Oh... You...
- Louis, Louis, Louis...

I've always had my suspicions.

- You filthy little slapper.
- You bastards!

You sad little man.

You bastards!

- Easy, now. Stop it.
- Get off! Give me the camera!

- Hi, it's...
- 'You've reached Pru's voicemail.'

'If you'd like to leave a message,
do so after the beep.'

'You've reached Pru's voicemail.'

'Lf you'd like to leave a message,
do so after the beep.'

Hi, it's Henno. Um...

I just thought...

Shit.

'Lf you'd like to leave a message,
do so after the beep.'

- Hi, it's me, I...

'Hi, it's Henno. Um...
I called. You're not in.'

So, um... over to you.

Hi. Stay there, please.

- who's that? Know him?
- I don't know him.

OK. Thanks a lot. Cheers.

- Hiya.
- I don't have enough money to get in.

- what do you want me to do about that?
- I don't know. It's up to you.

I'm sure we can come to an arrangement.

See you in a minute, yeah?

All right, all right.
How much is this gonna cost?

Film for the camera? That's expensive.

- Yeah.
- Tape for the digicam. Very expensive.

- And the rest.
- Loss of dignity. Priceless.

If this gets round the barracks,
I'll have to murder every one of you.

To be honest,
we didn't think you'd go through with it.

Now we know how desperate you were,
we wish we'd paid for the full monty.

Paid?

Louis, Louis, Louis... A beautiful girl
Walks up to you at a bar.

Takes you to bed. Did you think
you were wearing Impulse?

- You mean she's a...
- A young girl you took advantage of.

Don't forget to leave her a tip.

- How do you cope?
- with what?

Being married to an SAS Sergeant.

Knowing that every time your husband
goes off, he might not be coming back.

I know more divorcees than widows.

Besides, he makes me laugh.

Usually.

My name's lan, by the way.

Mrs Twamley.

Pleased to meet you, Ian.

You could do with another drink.

Um... I'm fine. Er... I should... Things to do.

Right. I'll, er... show you to the door.

Fine by me, babe.

Free entry.

On me.

This is it. The door. An ingenious device
that gets you in and out of a building.

- what would we do without them?
- Thanks for the drink.

You should pop back to see Pete
when he's not in again sometime.

I'll do that.

That's him.

This has all the hallmarks
of an attack by al-Qaeda.

There's no evidence
to support that theory.

But it is so callous.

Why do we presume terrorism
is the preserve of the foreigner?

Who else would do such a thing?

- Hello, is that the news desk?
- 'Yes. How can I help you? '

This is CCTV footage from the nightclub.

Fortunately, it survived the explosion.

My officers have trawled through
the material.

They didn't have to rewind very far
before... here.

Now, we've all seen the quiz show.
What happens next?

He goes inside?

He should run for it, but he goes inside.

Exactly.

A normal Saturday night stabbing and
he'd be off, but he's looking for trouble.

We fast-forward a matter of minutes.
No-one else goes in or out.

And then...

10:25pm precisely.

A group this determined -
there's only one way to stop them.

'The scene is one of total devastation.
A night out turns into a nightmare.'

- Morning.
- How'd it go?

- what?
- Last night.

I can't talk about it.

'... the families grieving...'

- where's the ketchup?
- we've run out.

'At least three more victims
on the critical list.'

You know, Pete, sometimes not talking
about it just isn't good enough.

What's brought this on?

- where were you last night?
- Are you questioning me?

- It's simple enough.
- You wanna talk about it?

- Yeah, I do.
- well, no. No, I can't.

- I am your wife.
- I know. I remember.

- I was at the wedding.
- But you weren't at the honeymoon.

You left me at the airport and ran off with
your mates to play wargames in Iraq.

You wanna talk? Fine. Let's talk about 63
dead people in South London, shall we?

We are the Soldiers of Avalon.

We gave you our word.
Our word is Albion.

'we told you people will die. They have.'

Faith and fury. We are willing
to make the ultimate sacrifice,

to pay in our own blood,
the price of our demise.

To bring this occupational Zionist
government to its knees.

We demand...

The immediate deportation
of all illegal immigrants.

All non-Aryan races to be repatriated.

Homosexuality to be outlawed.

"The death penalty for all paedophiles."

The resignation of the following
ministers. Automatons...

"...of the Zionist puppet master."

Then a list of half the cabinet,
shadow cabinet, and backbenchers.

Should our demands not be met,
there will be more deaths.

'we will not differentiate
between the child and the old.'

'The young or the politician.'

You have 48 hours to comply.

If no statement is made,

We will take a life
for each and every hour you wasted.

A copy of this
has been supplied to the press.

How do we stop them?

'The Soldiers of Avalon.'

The name comes from a pamphlet
written by Martin Bartlett.

Made his name in the mid-'90s standing
for the British Right Party in Wapping.

He later expanded on this pamphlet and
published a book entitled Sea Of Blood.

It's a diatribe

calling for the repatriation of
"the Commonwealth's bastard children".

- That's you going home, big boy.
- He also wants to rebuild Hadrian's wall.

That is Gary Farmer.

Was a member of Combat 18,
left because it lacked ambition.

When he got tired of Paki-bashing, he
joined the Army, Royal Ordnance Corps.

Learned about explosives.
The rest is history.

Her name is Suzi Brown.

- Marks out of ten?
- I'd give her one.

That's what the bouncer did. She lured
him away so Farmer could slot him.

Then he went in, blew up 64 people.

- 64?
- 21-year-old girl died this morning.

Your task is to find and follow
Bartlett and Brown.

'Make a note of contacts they make.

'Try and establish their network
and possible targets.

'And, if necessary, take them out.'

I've lost her.

- Bartlett's pulling in. Over.
- It's her.

It looks like some kind of drop.

Do we take the car
or follow the package? Over.

Car or package? Over.

'Stick with your brief.
Stick with your brief.'

Bollocks.
Follow the car. I'll take the girl.

'I've been followed.'

- 'when? '
- Today.

After you delivered the package.
Some guy chased me.

'what did he look like? '

A thug.

'Spooks don't chase.
Maybe you're being paranoid.'

- 'Maybe he was after something else.'
- I know when I'm being watched.

'worried? '

I'll give them something to worry about.

- Something to make them back off.
- 'Is he ready? '

Yes. He's ready.

- Hey! Easy!
- Fool!

Get out of here!

You deliberately disobeyed orders.
You were indecisive.

- I took the initiative.
- You were compromised.

- You didn't give an order.
- A guy blew a caf� to buggery

because you didn't follow orders.

Eight are dead. Nine if you include
the sick bastard who did it.

- I could have taken her.
- The brief was clear.

Follow, observe. Only if a serious risk
to national security is...

I assessed risk and acted accordingly.

I mean, what the hell did you think
was in the bag?

We'll never know, will we?

I can live with that. Can you?

Hi.

You should get some sleep.

I could say the same about you.

Thanks. Quite domesticated,
really, aren't you?

You should see me in my Marigolds.

I had a funny message
left on my voicemail.

- Did you?
- Mm.

You never said
What it was you wanted.

I... just wanted to pick your brains,
that's all.

- Really?
- Yeah.

All this. I thought you might have
some idea who was doing what

and to, er... whom.

Mm.

You left that message
before Gary Farmer blew himself up.

So. Any luck?

Suzi Brown.

Everything we think we know about her
in a few files and folders.

No friends, no family.

Where do you go
when you're on the run?

SO12 searched her flat, found nothing.

- The girl is like a Spartan.
- well, she won't be going back there.

I can't believe
she'll be sleeping on the street.

What are those numbers?

There's a phone box in the hall
across from her bedsit.

I'm cross-referencing the numbers.

She hasn't been stupid enough
to phone Bartlett on it,

but you never know your luck.

The name might pop out of somewhere.

Pru? Pru?

Get onto SO12.
I think I've found something.

Suze?

Suze?

'Jenny, pack your bags, get out of town.'

'watch the news. I'll be in touch.'

Time is running out. The clock is ticking.

It's our belief Suzi Brown
is the next bomber.

Find her before she finds her target.

That means lifting Martin Bartlett
and this woman, Jenny Lloyd.

- Lifting?
- we're at war. Niceties of law can wait.

- Hold on.
- With respect, sir, you hold on.

These people aren't playing by the rules.
Why should we?

- No.
- Lloyd and Brown were at university together.

They weren't known to be friends.
Lloyd's politics were left of Lenin's.

But they are friends now.

As far as we know, Lloyd is not
a member of the Soldiers of Avalon.

- What can she tell us?
- That's what we need to find out.

Romeo One Zero Bravo.
I have visual. Over.

Moving north.

'Roger.'

This is Romeo One Zero Bravo.

It should kick in any second.

We have a go.

She's eastbound on the A220.

- She's all yours.
- 'Got that.'

- Having trouble, love?
- It blew up. I don't know what's wrong.

I'll have a look at it for you.

- I'm not a member, you know.
- New initiative.

Now!

The bitch bit me.

- She's gone.
- Get her to hospital round the corner.

- Can I help you, gentlemen?
- we're interested in this model.

The TD6 Vogue.
Best lump of metal 52 grand can buy.

So, can we go for a test drive?

Hundreds of people
go missing every year.

Especially women.

Sometimes they find a body.

Sometimes they don't.

When we're finished with you,
they won't.

- Won't what?
- Find a body.

- Are we gonna kill her?
- Depends. On how cooperative she is.

- Have they rehearsed this?
- No.

I just think Louis's naturally thick.

Are we gonna kill her?

You know why you're here,
don't you, Martin?

I don't know nothing.

Playing hard to get?

I have rights. You can't do this.
I'm a respectable businessman.

Respectable...
Still a member of the BRP?

My politics is my concern.

I tried to join once.

Put my name down on the form.
English name, no bother.

Go for the interview suited and booted
and they didn't want me.

Why is that?

I told them I could work undercover.

The BRP is a legitimate political party
with legitimate political aims.

Tell me. Tell me about it.

I'm interested. No, honest.

I mean, what's your position
on the National Health?

What about education?

Transport?

You couldn't do a worse job
than the present one, could you? Hmm?

Privatisation versus nationalisation.

Where do you stand on that?

- Too hard for you?
- I won't play your games.

But I'm your electorate.

Right here. In this room.

Two votes.

We don't need your sort.

Where did you get the C4 from, Martin?

Are you gonna rape me?

What do you reckon?

- Not my type.
- No, not mine either.

- I'd say she's a rug muncher anyway.
- You reckon?

You can tell.

- She just hasn't had the right man.
- My friend would consider it charity.

He's not a big man.
But he can do the job.

What do you want?

- Tell us about Suzi.
- I don't know a Suzi.

You dropped off a present for her.
Was it C4?

- You've got nothing on me. Nothing.
- I'm sick of this.

I've read your book.

- It's shite.
- A critic?

Is that what you think we are?
The thought police?

Well, I've got news for you, pal.
The "we" who we are... have no rulebook.

There's no legal procedure
followed here.

No chance of suing for wrongful arrest.

We've got two dead bodies
to stick in that Range Rover of yours.

You wanna guess
where we got those bodies?

A certain nightclub in South London.

You wouldn't happen
to know about that, would you?

- You think this is funny?
- You're all scientists' puppets.

You think 64 dead kids is funny?

I think it's hilarious when
they're all black bastards and kikes.

- He knows what he's doing.
- I'm not happy about this.

As long as we get a result.

What is your problem?

I don't have a problem, sir.

We have to learn how to work together.
Like it or not, we're on the same side.

- You have the pips, sir.
- What does that mean?

It means... you know best, sir.

I may not have your experience,
but I can have an opinion.

If that opinion turns into an order,
then so be it.

I will follow any order I am given, sir,

but I don't have to do it
with a smile on my face.

Unless, of course,
you order me to smile, sir.

You're with them, aren't you?

- who?
- Soldiers of Avalon.

- You think we are?
- You found out about me and Suze.

- Is Suze your girlfriend?
- We found each other.

- What's she planning? Who's next?
- I don't know anything about that.

- I asked. She wouldn't talk.
- She told you what we were up to.

- She's not safe.
- No, she's not.

- She told you about Martin.
- Everyone knows.

OK. Then what else did she tell you?

Did she tell you who's next?

What makes someone
strap on a vest of dynamite

Walk into a club
and blow everyone to smithereens?

A caf�, where old men
are playing backgammon?

What kind of God
looks down on that and smiles?

I don't believe in God, only country.

You'll believe by the time I'm finished.

If I did believe in God,
he'd be an Englishman.

Hey. Take it easy.

I once had a near-death experience.

I was shot.
Pieces of lead ripped into my liver

making my insides my outsides.

I was like you.
God? No way does He exist.

The bearded bastard points the finger.

Day, night. Land, sea.

And then He goes and makes
a duck-billed platypus.

Omnipotent? No. Comedian? Yes.

But then on my death bed,
I saw a white light.

And you do... You have to walk to it.

It was pulling me.

Me. Not a religious man.
Not a God-fearing cretin.

But standing in front of me...

was Himself.

God.

And God was a red-haired man
with a beard of fire,

dressed in the flag of St Andrew.

And what he said was...

"Gang aft agley."

Do you know what that means?

It means you're bollixed.

That's enough. I'm going to stop this.

Get out of my way.

Or what? You'll do me
for insubordination?

Yes.

- You tell me where she is. Where is she?
- Sarnt!

Who can tell me what that word means?

- Suzi's a teacher.
- We know that.

Just a teacher.

- Where does she work now?
- I don't know.

What does she teach?

Martyrs are people who die for a cause.
For a belief.

Jesus Christ was a martyr.
Would Christianity be what it is today

if Christ hadn't died on the cross?

What would Christians use as a symbol?
The cross? Yellow Star of David?

The swastika?

All potent symbols. All,
it could be argued, symbols of death.

If, of course,
you believe in holocaust theory.

- She believes in death and immortality.
- Hey!

We all do!

What do you think?

She was always searching
for something. Meaning to life.

And then she met Bartlett and
he poisoned her mind with your politics.

- You don't agree?
- You're scum!

Brave words.

Will you just let me go?

Tell him what he wants to know.

Tell him that this all ends right here.
Right now.

I know what you're doing.

You think I'll move.
You think I don't know the deadline.

I talk. So what?

I don't, people die.

Kids. Your kids.

That's the only way forward.

Night of the Long Knives. It's coming.

One-eight... AH.

Adolf Hitler. Sieg Heil!

It's coming.

That better?

Thanks.

Jenny...

I'm sorry. But we have to know
whether you're involved.

We're not who you think we are.

- No?
- No.

We want to help Suzi.

I know she stayed at your place.
We know what she's doing.

We just want to stop her
from killing herself.

From killing others.

I think you're too late.

Don't run. There's no need to panic.
Everything's under control, OK?

- The deadline's passed, Mr Salmon.
- Deadline?

For the repatriation of all foreigners.

What are you talking about?

The government.

Craig...

- Let your classmates go.
- No one leaves this class.

Craig, this isn't down to you.

I don't know how you got involved.

- But, please...
- we, the Soldiers of Avalon,

are prepared to lose our lives
for the cause.

Are the government prepared to murder
children because of their inactivity?

- You're a tosser.
- I'm a martyr. You're coming with me.

- Yeah, right.
- Stevenson!

Left and right shots from the windows
and building opposite.

Jamie, kit up. Ricky, see if you can get
a fibre optic into the classroom.

Sir, we'll use the rear of the vehicle as
an FCP. Trust me. I know what I'm doing.

She's still here.

The police are here now. Don't worry.
Nothing to worry about. Take it slowly.

'Are you sure about this? '

We have trained negotiators
for this kind of thing.

- How long will they take to get here?
- Sir, men are ready.

'He's a 16-year-old boy.'

And if we hesitate, he'll be
a 16-year-old mass murderer.

Christ. Please, shut up!

Craig?

- Got a present for you.
- Miss?

- Now, shall we talk?
- There's nothing to talk about.

Let her go.

Let her go.

Sierra One. Clear for a shot.

- Sierra Two. Clear for a shot.
- Stand by.

What did she promise you, Craig?

Immortality, a place in history,
martyrdom.

- It's all bullshit.
- Craig, do it. Blow the bastards up.

- Tell him about your girlfriend.
- I don't have a girlfriend.

- Jenny Lloyd.
- what's he talking about?

Craig, this is your chance. Your moment.

Of course she expected you
to make the sacrifice, not her.

She wants to go home to Jenny.

But we can change all that.

We, the Soldiers of Avalon, are prepared
to lose our lives for the cause.

Are you prepared to watch me
blow her brains out?

Leave her alone!

Have you slept with her? Eh?

Did she take your virginity?

You know she's using you. To her,
you're just a recruit, like Gary Farmer,

like the bouncer she screwed
at the nightclub.

- Did she tell you he was black?
- Stop it!

I know. I know everything.

- Let her go.
- No.

You let the kids go first.

You'd better come out smelling
of roses or you won't come out at all.

Let the kids go, Craig!

- OK.
- Craig? No.

Go. Go on.

Not him!

- That wasn't the deal.
- Let her go.

- Let the kid go.
- I can't do that.

Craig, listen to me.

Do it.

This is what we've talked about.

Fame, glory, martyrdom.

I'm gonna count, Craig.
Now, you can count, can't you?

Ten, it's a nice round number.
When I get to zero,

she gets a bullet through her,
or your hands are on your head.

- Craig, do it.
- Ten...

- It's simple.
- Nine...

- For me.
- Eight...

- He's going for the button.
- Seven...

- Clear for a shot.
- Six...

- You are go.
- Five...

Hold it.

Four.

Hold. was she searched?

- Who?
- The girl.

- Three...
- There's something in her hand.

- It's a remote.
- Two...

- Do it, Miss!
- I've lost my shot.

Clear.

It may seem cruel, but it worked.

Sometimes, there's no other way.

- I should have searched her.
- Yeah, you should have done.

- It's Louis who took the shot, wasn't it?
- How do you know that?

Nearly missed. Tell him
to shoot on the out-breath.

I'll pass it on.

On the out-breath? I did.

You must be a shit shot, then.