Original subtitles

Subtitles by explosiveskull

- I said no calls... - Ah! Now, is that Sir Edward?

Who is this?

Let's just say I'm somebody you really don't want to ignore.

- I beg your pardon? - You caused a lot of misery

in your time, haven't you?

Mind you, so have I.

The only difference is that I knew the names of the people

I was hurting and as far as I was concerned,

they deserved everything they got.

But you,

you never knew the names of any of your victims, did you?

And they certainly didn't deserve

what they were getting from you.

I don't know who you are, or what you are hoping to achieve.

What I want is for you to return every penny you've stolen.

- I'm sorry, I thought you said... - Mark Twain said something good.

He said, "Do the right thing.

It will gratify some people and astonish others."

Mark Twain also said, "To succeed in life,

you need two things, ignorance and confidence."

Yeah, clever old sod, wasn't he?

And you Sir, are not.

You certainly have ignorance and, it would seem, confidence,

but you are not going to succeed

in whatever it is you're trying to do.

Unlike banking, my line of work is dependent on results

- and that's what I get. - In my line of work,

we approach business in two ways.

If you're in the investment market,

- you're a bull or a bear. - What's your point?

Well, there's a 16th Century proverb,

"Don't sell the bear's skin before you've killed him."

Maybe you should be more cautious with your threats.

Maybe we've done enough quoting for one day, eh?

Just fucking give it back.

I don't run a successful bank by giving money away.

I'm successful because I fucking take money.

I'll take that as a no then.

I must say he didn't seem too keen.

Sounds like it's time for Plan B then.

Tin Man, come in.

Ah, for fuck's sake, which button do I press?

It's the button on the side.

Oh, come on, come on Richard, I'm just working you up.

How very droll.

- Everything clear out there? - Yes, yes.

Just me and the moonlight. How are the old ladies doing?

Roy keeps moaning about his shoulder

but we're getting there.

I'd better see what they're doing.

Yeah, well, see you soon. Hey! Don't get caught.

Oh, oh.

What?

I was saying I wish we'd had one of these back in the day.

What, to break through brickwork, you mean?

No, the shins.

I wouldn't have this twinge in my shoulder

if it hadn't been for those fucking hand-drills.

Gentlemen, let's not forget we're on a clock here.

Ten minutes. Fifteen tops.

You said that a bleeding half hour ago.

- This is a precision job. - Sod this for a freakin' laugh.

No don't do that, don't do tha...

Well, that was a lucky swing.

It's all in the shoulders, Roysie.

- Gentlemen... - Don't take the piss.@

Come on. Give us a hand with this.

Let's see if the old magic still has me.

Hmm...

Is that a good hmm or a bad hmm?

Pony says he'll piss it.

There you go, what did I say?

Oh!

I mean, with your back and my shoulder.

How come Butch never ended up with any career side-effects?

I keep telling everyone, I'm the young gun on the firm.

Yeah.

Wait, wait.

That's the trouble with you "Young Guns."

- All brawn and no brains. - Right.

- What color is this one? - Looks purple.

- That's magenta. - What is the difference?

It's the difference between the alarms going off

- and the alarms not going off. - Ah, yeah, that's magenta.

- So, I cut this one, right? - Roy?

Please.

"Everything has its limit.

Iron Ore cannot be educated into gold."

- What? - Mark Twain.

- Oh, yeah. - Mark who?

Everything has its limit. Right! Let's get to work.

Now look at me.

Who's in charge?

No. I am.

- What's going on? - You're being robbed.

Oh. That's not good.

Armed police! Don't move! Don't move! Armed police!

I guess you caught us red-handed. Put it down, Roy.

Let's go!

Move!

Move!

Romeo Alpha, Romeo Alpha.

Romeo Alpha, go ahead.

Armed robbers in E2.

We're sending details to your comms.

Okay, we read you. En route. Fuck. We've got to go.

You!

- What's your name? - Dave.

Dave, do you think you can handle those fellas?

Three old geezers? Yeah.

Yeah, right. We're on our way.

Just say that you caught them, okay?

- What? - Saves me doing the paperwork.

You might even get a raise or something,

yeah?

And get rid of all that security footage.

Us arriving.

Just pretend that they cut the wires or something.

Good boy.

Lizzy Davis.

Hello, Anne-Marie.

- Well, you look well. - You, too.

I can see why Richie's heart was set aflutter again.

So I was asked.

Well, uh, no actually,

I was told by your goons that you wanted to see me?

Well, well. You've toughened up. You're not the girl I remember.

Yeah, well, I'm not a girl anymore, am I?

None of us are girls, anymore. Anyway, what do you want?

Do you remember my parents?

Yes Anne-Marie. Everyone knew your dad.

Next Tuesday, he'd have spent 30 years in prison.

My mother is about to die soon.

Alzheimer's.

Horrible fucking illness

that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry...

We found a clinic for her in Europe.

They've been keeping her going in the hope

that my father would be granted compassionate leave,

to be able say goodbye to her in private.

So, they've refused him?

Oh, they've toyed with us, promised a review...

but it was all bollocks.

The previous Prison Governor even took our bribes

and then didn't follow through on his promises.

You said, "Previous"?

- Right, okay. - It was a terrible accident.

You know, I've got this funny feeling you want me

to do something, and I just, for the life of me,

can't work out what it is.

How do you feel about Richie being caught?

Um. A few months back I wouldn't have had any feelings

- one way or the other. - But now?

Since he's charmed his way back into your life?

And Richie asked me to tell you to wait for him.

He's spoken to you since he's been caught?

Richie and I go back a long way.

There's the girl I remember.

...anyway, they get up on the terrace,

go through the French windows, nick all the Tom, come out

and Gerald, he climbs all the way back down

to the street level.

Whereupon, the other fellow leans over and says to him,

"Oi, get back up here".

So, he says, "Why? Just come back down here."

He says, "Get back up here!"

So, he climbs all the way back up

and gets onto the terrace and he says, "What?"

and the other fella says, "Come over here

and listen to this geezer snoring."

You all right?

Are you all right?

George Briggs.

"A legend," they tell me.

"Runs things in the prison," I was warned.

"Be his friend," they advised.

You see, here's the thing...

and you old bastards never seem to understand this.

You think you're invincible.

And, on the outside, you may well have led a life

that has afforded you protection,

the kind of protection that most mere mortals cannot understand.

But once you're in here... inside,

away from those who you pay to protect you,

well, then you're just like everyone else.

And you are old now. No one cares about you anymore.

The world doesn't give a flying fuck

about knowledge, about the old way,

about how things used to be, how they should be.

The world has moved forward but you keep hanging

onto the good old days where "respect" meant something.

Loss is a terrible thing.

What are you talking about loss...

I'm talking about the loss of manners,

as you intended to interrupt me.

I'm talking about the loss of respect for intelligence, old or young.

We used to have confidence,

now all I see in your generation is arrogance.

- Briggs... - And they weren't actually the "good old days"...

but things were certainly a lot better back then.

There was an order to things

and a respect for those who earned it.

You were promoted to Governor here,

not because you were the best person for the job,

but because your predecessor died and you were available.

I was promoted to Governor here because I...

Well done, Governor Pryce, well done.

You fooled them, but you didn't fool me.

I know people like you.

Behind your tough guy image...

...you're scared.

I see from your file

that you've applied for compassionate leave.

I can see it from your face you're not going to grant it.

Well, your attitude towards me hasn't helped.

I've lost faith in the system.

I've lost my sense of humor since I've been in here.

And now you've lost your chance to see your wife before she dies.

Are you having any suicidal thoughts?

No.

Are you on drugs or any form of prescription...

I really don't approve of drugs.

- Yes or no? - No.

Are you experiencing feelings of rage or violence?

'Course I'm fucking not!

Are you a bed wetter?

Did you ask the others that question?

Is that a no?

- Richie Archer. - Hmm.

- I've heard a lot about you. - All good, I hope?

No, Archer. Not good at all.

Robbery. Extortion.

Kidnapping. Arson. The list goes on and on.

Yeah, now, that arson,

that was just an unfortunate misunderstanding.

And the papers just blew it out of all proportion.

- If I was you, I would ignore that one. - Enough!

You will address me as Governor!

And you will afford my officers the courtesy of "Sir."

Disrespect will not be tolerated.

Do I make myself clear?

Yes, Governor.

Violence and aggressive behavior will not be tolerated.

- Do I make myself clear? - Yes, Governor.

You will abide by the rules.

Transgressions will not be tolerated.

- Yes? - What does "transgressions" mean?

Not what he thinks they mean.

You think you're something special, don't you?

- Not at all. - "Not at all, Sir."

Not at all, Sir.

You think you can stroll in here like some King Big Dick?

King what?

- Big dick. - Oh.

- Oi! - Hey, Butch!

Settle down.

Be under no illusion, I might be new here,

but that means new rules.

You step out of line...

and I will not hesitate to crush you.

Time was Richie, you could have taken a shot like that.

Time was Roy, I might have seen it coming.

Left.

- Over to this side. - Oh, this way.

This way, mate.

Ah, here's your new cell-mate.

Hello, David. I've got a new playmate for you.

I know how you hate being all on your lonesome.

All right, fella?

I'll leave you two to get acquainted.

Right, there you go. Home sweet home.

I presume you still do room service?

Snap!

Shame. That would save a lot of time.

You're a sight for sore eyes, Richie Archer.

- George! You look good. - Don't lie. I'm tired.

Well, that's why I came here, to repay my debt to you.

What are Butch and Roy doing here?

This was meant to be a one-man job.

Yeah you know what they're like.

Loyal to the last. More people means more risk.

Don't worry, George. It's all in hand.

- She hasn't got much time. - No, I know. I know.

Well, you'll see Alice again. You've got my word on that.

I know I can rely on you. Always could.

Come let's have a cup and have a chat.

Liz!

Jimmy Harper. I've not seen you for a long time.

I'm over in Spain now.

Got a nice little place just up the road from Richie's gaff.

- Right. - You all right, Liz?

Yeah. Well, you know it's... Well, it's so...

peaceful and nice around here

now that Richie's back, you know?

But, you're okay?

Jimmy, did you know about this plan?

- This robbery? - Of course!

I was there.

I stole the gold and...

That's very funny. Yeah.

Why'd he do it, Jimmy? I mean, money?

What was it, the adrenaline? The thrill? What?

Do you fancy a pint?

Louis, we haven't met.

My name's Vic, how you doing? I live here, too.

I've been watching you, keepin' an eye on you.

You keep your head down. I like that.

You go about your business quietly. That's good.

In fact, you know something? Whole nick loves you.

Please... if you think I've done something,

- you're wrong. - Oh, you misunderstand me.

I don't think you've done anything wrong, Louis.

In fact, on the contrary.

So, let me go, yeah? Please...

- Please let me go! - First, I need a little favor.

Anything! All you have to do is ask.

Louis, in this nick, I don't have to ask for anything.

I'm a taking kind of guy. Tell me something.

Do you know Richie Archer?

The Archer Gang? Yeah, everyone's heard of them.

You want me to kill him for you?

Kill Him?

Tell me something, have you ever killed anyone before?

No.

But is that what you want me to do?

Well, you will one day, I suppose

and you'll remember your first, forever.

The terror in their eyes when you take their life.

- That's probably why I like taking things. - No, no. What are you doing?

No!

You're right, Louis.

I do want Archer dead.

The problem is, he's in a different nick.

The dilemma is, how the fuck am I going to get to him?

I said, I'd do what you want!

You already are.

Why'd you do it?

This was a cushy number.

You ain't gonna see luxury like this again.

Three hundred and fifty-seven.

What's that?

Three hundred and fucking fifty-seven.

That's how many potsie fucking months

I've spent banged up.

That is 10,873 days.

I might just have a crack at working out the hours

and the minutes later on.

You can't think like that, you'll go mad.

- I am fucking mad! - Vic, for God's sake.

You've heard the news?

About the Archer Gang? Yeah.

Thought that would make your day.

Make my day?

Richie Archer happens to be in a different fucking nick,

two hundred miles south of here.

So, reaching down his scrawny little neck

and ripping out his heart is gonna be a bit tricky,

- don't you think? - It's open and shut.

They'll die behind bars. No need to worry about that.

Yeah? Well, natural causes doesn't do it for me, Donald.

You want me to arrange something?

No. No, I don't.

I want to be there when it happens.

I want to see it with my own eyes.

I want him to know that I'm fucking responsible.

But, there is something else I want to do

before I take Richie Archer's life.

What do you need me to do?

They're being held on remand at Belkinwood.

Belkinwood's got a new governor.

Your friend and my friend, Pryce.

Pryce by name, Pryce by nature.

Get Harry to have a little word with her, will you, please?

And, see if she can arrange a little reunion.

- Yeah, but Vic... - Just fucking do it!

You have to do it. You know you do.

It's just... It's just not me, right?

You know, I... I'm not part of your world.

But you are.

Like it or not you're part of Richie's world,

which means you're now part of my world.

The Archer Gang were a force to be reckoned with,

and Richie was...

Well, Richie was many things.

But, you know how it all works.

Yeah... there's always someone above you, right?

Richie, my father, God.

Did you know that my father took the blame

for one of Richie's crimes?

He was going down anyway, so, he confessed to it...

to keep Richie out.

Well...

what exactly do I... Would I have to do?

Talk to an old friend.

Convince them that we need their help.

- Richie needs their help. - Wh...

Who? I mean, what the hell is going on?

You know that phrase, "I could tell you,

but I'd have to kill you"?

Well, I will actually carry out that threat

if you whisper a word of this to anyone.

Chaps.

What's... what's... what's this all about Mr. Briggs?

I've been telling my friend, Richie,

- about your "business" here. - What are you after? Smokes?

- Choccie bars? Jazz mags? That kinda thing? - No.

F... Fuckin' hell.

These aren't...

These aren't exactly what you'd call, uh,

what you'd call "everyday items" around here.

- Do you know what I mean? - I do and no they're not.

And, and, it's gonna cost you.

He's good for it.

Yeah, well, gimme a couple days. I'll see what I can do.

Good lad.

- Sooner the better. - All right.

Twitchy bastard, isn't he?

Well, well, well. Look who it is.

Richie fucking Archer.

I'm sorry, son, you've got me at a disadvantage.

The name's Razor and don't call me "son."

So, what happened? Have a bit of a senior moment, did ya?

I mean, fucking hell, gold bullion?

This ain't the fucking 80s, no more, you silly old gits.

You want to learn some manners, my friend.

And you wanna go and do a fucking jigsaw, Granddad.

Watch your mouth!

Gentlemen.

So, you know West End Jon?

Well, whaddya make of that, Butch?

The world is a village.

I've been holding out hope that Razor here will one day,

learn to respect his elders and betters.

Come on, Razor. Apologize.

- I ain't apologizing to no one. - I said, apologize!

Just pissing about, ain't I?

I wouldn't call that an apology. Say you're sorry.

- Sorry. - Now, sling it.

What the fuck are you looking at?

- Seems like a nice boy. - Adorable boy.

What's their story?

Oh, they've been scrapping each other for years.

Some family thing long before they got here.

Spider's all right, but Razor...

I've had to threaten his outside mob

a couple of times. Looks like, he's due a reminder.

Hmm.

Vic Farrow's due to be transferred

and you, Mrs. Maestro,

are gonna make sure he ends up in your prison.

- What? - You deaf?

Fuck...

I've never killed a woman before

but with your job description

I'm willing to make an exception.

I...

I can't do that. That... That's impossible.

Well, you better hope it ain't,

'cause if you don't get this thing done,

I'm gonna put big holes in you.

Do you want that?

Ah... Didn't think so.

Morning.

You do so remind me of a very dear friend of mine.

Stick 'em up.

Oh, Chas. You've got something for me, I hope.

Yeah, maybe, maybe, maybe. Let's, let's...

You know what I'm going to say. Let's... let's see it first.

Fuck! Yeah, yeah, yeah.

- Sweet, sweet, sweet. - It is rather, innit?

Mined in South Africa,

cut in Tel Aviv and part of a consignment nicked off

a dealer in the Antwerp Square Mile. Here you go!

Down the hatch.

Yeah, you might want to run it under a tap, though.

- Pleasure! - Hang about. Hang about.

I can feel from this that there's no key-card inside.

Yeah, but to be fair, you know, it was...

it was always going to be tricky.

- You just swallowed my payment. - I know, I know.

I just need a little bit... ...longer.

I haven't got "a little bit... ...longer."

No, b... but I'm sorry. I am. I'm sorry.

But you know, I ain't gonna let you down.

No, you're fucking not because if you do,

Butch will devise a method, whereby he can retrieve

that diamond from inside your tum tum.

A process neither of you will enjoy very much.

Hello, Jack.

- Oh, bloody hell. - Oh, thank you very much.

No offence, but I've come to realize

that people approaching me these days,

usually means they want something.

I'm not some bloody charity worker on the high street.

So, are you here visiting someone,

or is this to do with Richie?

- How often do you come here? - Most days.

She deserves that, at least.

I didn't know her. But... I'm sorry for your loss, Jack.

Well. She always said, she'd be the widow,

with me killed on duty trying to put the bad boys away.

Oh, so, uh, she didn't know.

That I was actually working with the bad boys?

No. Well, I reckon she knew, but she never said anything.

Anyway, she was always good at turning a blind eye. Bless her.

Yes, well, as fascinating as all this sounds,

we have slightly more pressing matters to discuss.

God! Blimey O'Reilly!

All these years and you haven't changed a bit, have you?

- I'll take that as a compliment. - Whatever rocks your boat.

So, what's all this about, anyway?

And remember, I've done my bit.

Your "bit"? Your "bit"?

You haven't even started, Houghton.

- Richie's inside. - I know. Silly old bugger!

Whatever was he thinking at his... at our age?

Yeah, seems like, getting caught was all part of The Plan.

What? Why would he want...

It's a prison break, right?

- He needs your help, Jack. - Lizzy,

this isn't my world, anymore.

We know you have a contact on the inside.

A fellow member of the "Brotherhood."

I do not want any part of this.

Do I really need to remind you how much dirt

- my father has on you? - No, no, no.

Richie's pulled that one on me before.

You're walking around, free as a bird,

because my father kept schtum.

"Your bit," Mr. Houghton, hasn't even halfway started.

Look, Jack. You know, I wouldn't ask for help

if we didn't really, really need it.

Oh, this is funny.

You two doing the good cop, bad cop routine.

- Please, Jack. Richie and I... - I'm not doing this for you.

Or for Richie. And especially not for her.

I'll do it for me.

Anyway, I've got fuck all else to do, nowadays.

Our old friend, Jack Houghton's got a mate in here.

Not one of the funny hand-shake brigade.

Good Christ. Not the fucking Masons?

All right, I don't care for them myself

but without this bloke we are going nowhere.

Once we're off this wing,

there's another four doors between us and freedom.

You'd see that as a nice challenge back in the day.

Picking locks involves kneeling down.

That plays havoc with my back, not to mention my knees.

- So, when do we go? - Assuming, Chas comes up

with the last piece of the puzzle,

what do you say to tomorrow?

I'll go and pack my bags.

Now that guy is a fucking legend!

Well, there goes the neighborhood.

So, what's Farrow doing here?

Something like this doesn't happen out of the blue.

- He's here for us. - Can I rip his head off?

Oh, here we go.

Well, it might come to that,

but I don't want anybody getting into any trouble.

Last thing we need is somebody being thrown in the hole.

Farrow's a scheming cunt.

Whatever he's up to,

he'll make his move the first chance he gets.

That's why I've paid out a healthy wedge for those guys.

Yeah, but nothing's changed. We still go tomorrow, okay?

Slick Vic, it's an honor.

You know, I've never really cared much for that nickname,

but thanks all the same.

You know we need someone like you in here,

- calling the shots. - Yeah? Well, I thought that you had

the, uh, esteemed Mr. Briggs running things in here.

Nah. That old fucker's lost the plot years ago.

You know you can't even score a bit of blow in here these days.

You mean there's, uh... there's no connections at all?

Fuck all.

He insisted on shutting the whole thing down.

"Drugs are bad for you" and all that shit he preaches.

All right. Well, maybe you and I can do a bit of business together.

New Governor, though. Might be tricky.

Oh, no. You just leave her to me.

I'll take care of that.

You just concentrate on the muscle and customers.

Well, you can count on me and my boys.

- And how many would that be? - Twenty-five, guaranteed.

Might be more if they know we're teaming.

Ask around.

Find out who's missing a bit of that...

and some of that. Okay?

Tell them I'll bring in anything they want.

You know what, that's just doubled your army already.

You know something, my friend?

I think after all this time the mighty Richie Archer

is about to meet his Waterloo.

Apparently, you wanted to see me, ma'am?

I don't like being told what to do,

especially with a gun being pushed into the back of my head.

- Yeah well, I'm sorry but... - And I don't like being interrupted, either.

I was wondering why you were so keen to be here.

Well, it's just that,

I've got an old score I need to settle, that's all.

Is anyone else scoring out of this?

Ah, so this... nocturnal

clandestine meeting is just for you to tell me,

you don't want drugs in you nick. Is that right?

Ah, got it.

- It's about percentage. Correct? - I don't know what you mean.

Twenty-five?

I'm flattered you think I look that young.

Thirty?

I do look after myself and eat well,

perhaps that's clouding your judgment.

Thirty-five.

Let me step into the light.

Perhaps, the shadow was hiding my laughter lines.

Yeah.

I can see clearly now you're definitely fifty.

Full of Vitamin D. Good for your bones and teeth.

But you haven't got any real teeth left, have ya?

You keep talking like that

you might not have any left, either.

Mr. Farrow wants you to join him.

Did you just hear something, Roy?

No, Richie.

- How about you Butch? - Not a dicky bird, mate.

I said, Mr. Farrow wants you to join him.

Do you know how much this stuff costs?

Less than a tin of dog food. Can you believe that?

Dogs eat better than we do.

Mind you, I like dogs and I don't begrudge

- our canine friends a lovely gourmet dinner... - Oi!

I'm talking to you, you geriatric cunt.

Yeah, why don't you go and tell Mr. Farrow

when I'm ready to talk to him, I will talk to him.

Until that time, he can fold his arms and wait.

Now, you going to be able to remember all that

or am I going to have to carve it into your face

with my little plastic knife?

What's going on?

I said, what's going on?

Oh, my friend here was just recommending the veal.

Apparently, it's to die for.

I'll tell you what,

whatever mug he's sharing a cell with Butch tonight,

had better wear a gas mask.

Oh, dear.

Hello, Richie.

It's nice to see you. It's been a long time.

- Not long enough. - Aye, come on, mate.

Don't be like that. You don't mean it.

We're just two boys from the old neighborhood,

back together again at long last.

Why are you here, Vic?

You know, I've been rehearsing this

for the best part of 30 years.

And now the moment's here, I'm kind of at a loss for words.

Um, I don't know, fate?

Um...

Karma? Karma's a good word, let's go with karma.

Yeah, it's very Zen of you.

I must say I never had you down as one of the enlightened.

Oh!

Enlightenment's a good word...

like the day I found out who stitched me up.

Now, that was a fucking enlightening day.

Oh, please.

You're not still claiming your innocence, are you?

Innocence? No.

I never said I was innocent.

Far from it, I'm no saint, like you.

But, we both know...

that I should never have gone down for those killings, right?

Never in a million fucking years.

Well, it's too bad nobody's listening, innit?

No. Not at the moment they're not, no.

But they soon will be.

Soon everyone will know what you

and that lowlife piece of shit Houghton did.

Okay. You've shown your cards.

One card. Your Queen.

Carmen.

Now, it would be tragic if something unfortunate

were to happen to her now, wouldn't it?

Yeah, whatever you're thinking Vic,

I would strongly advise against it.

Oh, spare me the fucking tough guy routine, will you?

It doesn't wash with me. I've known you too long.

Anyway, if any harm were to come to your queen,

it would be totally down to you.

From now on, Richie, her safety is in your hands.

Hello?

- Carmen? Hi, it's me. - Dad? Where have you been?

I'm afraid things have got a bit complicated around here.

Complicated? What's happened? Where are you?

It doesn't matter where I am,

I just want you to listen to me really, really carefully.

I want you to pack a bag,

go and stay with a friend for a few weeks, okay?

Dad, what is going on?

Carmen, sweetheart, I love you dearly.

Don't ask any questions. Just pack a bag.

Get out of that house. Now!

- Yes, please. Chinese restaurant. - Jimmy, it's me.

I'm sorry, mate.

Just tying up these couple of loose ends we talked about.

Listen, we got a problem. Carmen might be in danger.

What do you want me to do, Richie?

I want you to get back to Spain as soon as you can.

- Call Carmen and protect her. - I'm on my way and, uh,

- I might have to change first. - You better be bloody joking.

Count yourself lucky this time!

Okay, so there are the photographs of the boys.

Ah, Richie.

He's still got it, hasn't he?

Is there something I should know about you two?

Richie! Hello!

- Lizzy? - Are you all right?

Uh, not exactly, no. You know, I haven't got time to explain.

Listen, I need you to do something for me.

I need you to go to Jack Houghton.

Ask him if he'll come in here and see Vic Farrow.

- Vic Farrow? - He's in here.

I don't know how he's in here but, he's in here.

Are you safe?

That depends on how safe you think prison is...

No, but, listen, Vic is threatening to go after Carmen.

- What? - Talk to Jack Houghton.

Ask him to bring in the Farrow tape.

- He'll know what that means. - What does it mean, Richie?

You don't need to know that, Lizzy.

Just ask Jack to bring the tape in, for Farrow.

- I'm really worried, Richie. - Don't be. Bye.

You are going to break me out of here, aren't you, Richie?

I'm a man of my word.

Look. Farrow's just a complication.

But, your fixer hasn't come through.

You should've stuck Farrow in a sack

with a couple of breeze-blocks and dumped in the Thames

when you had the chance.

When I told you to, in point of fact.

I thought I'd done the next best thing.

Anyway, you know, I don't like killing people

unless of course they're trying to kill me first.

Always thought that was an odd trait of yours.

I know you're there, Harry.

Fuck, I wish you'd stop doing that.

It's what I do.

Now, what do you want me to do?

I've got another little errand for you.

I don't do errands.

Snatch and grab. Bring 'em here.

Vic wants to have some fun when he gets out.

I don't do errands.

What?

Just fucking do it.

I'm not some henchman you bark orders at.

You're someone Mr. Farrow pays,

which means you do what I tell you.

Which means I can call you whatever the fuck I want.

Do as you're fucking told, old man.

The details are in the envelope.

Your friend, Jenny, you remember her?

'Course I do, God rest her soul.

- Well, her death... - No, her murder.

She... Well, you know what happened.

Yeah and I know she didn't take drugs.

She was made to. And that makes it murder.

And we all know who was pushing drugs back in those days.

- Yeah. Farrow. - Exactly.

Anyway, Richie wanted me to set Farrow up

with something that would put him away forever.

Scotland Yard had a mountain of unsolved cases in those days

and I pulled a good one, a gangland slaying

as they used to say in the press.

So, I cobbled together enough evidence

to put Farrow in a room with a dead body.

Things were so much easier back then.

So, what's on this tape?

Some gobby, Geordie scrote, Fenwick, I think his name was,

was hauled in for something else entirely

and coughed up to the whole bloody thing.

If we press the charges against him,

our whole bloody case would've collapsed.

- So, you hid the confession tape. - Yeah.

- Well, where is it? - It's safe.

It's very simple.

You meet Farrow. You give him the tape.

He'll call off his dogs.

Then Richie can move on with the escape plan.

What's on that tape is enough to get Farrow released,

and with a golden fucking handshake thrown in for good measure.

You're okay with that, are you?

I just want my father to see my mother one last time.

So, Detective Inspector. Here we are then.

It's just plain old "Mister" these days.

You know something,

I'd have given odds saying you were dead by now.

- How'd you make that out then? - Well, Coppers like you,

take away the job, what's left? Fuck all, right?

Most of you end up in a single room

with a bottle of scotch and a length of rope for company.

Let's just get on with this, shall we?

I could just kill him with my bare hands, I really could.

Lizzy? Look at me.

It's going to be all right. Trust me.

But you really think you can...

well, escape?

Is everything in place?

We'll fix the problem, you know, I hate being outmaneuvered.

I like control and order.

And Vic is out of control and he's seriously out of order.

Richie, if you get blood on your hands, you might never get out of here.

No, here's the truth:

the boys and I chose to be in here.

Maybe that's the way it's supposed to be.

I mean, God knows we've all done enough to deserve it, haven't we?

And what about me?

I mean, have you, for one minute,

even given any thought how I might be feeling?

Well, no. You move on and you, you, get on with your life.

Oh, you...

- you're just a bloody idiot, aren't you? - Eh?

There was me thinking we might even have half a chance.

Oh, Lizzy...

I'm sorry.

Yes, but that's just not good enough, is it?

- No contact! - Sorry, Mr. Riley.

The rules are clear, Archer.

You know something, if you were to fortunately die tonight

from a massive fucking stroke,

you know, at least you'll have done one good thing

in your miserable dog shit life.

Do you know what, Farrow?

I think I'll hang on for another couple years,

just to piss you off, mate.

I hear that you've not been having a lot of luck

with your IP19s. Two knock backs in three years?

- Three in four. - Right.

Well, for your information, the new Governor would be forced

to give you a single cell if you proved to be a threat,

did you know that?

You mean, you want me to kill someone.

That new cell-mate of yours.

The big prick. I could do with him out the way.

And if that were to happen, well, hey, presto.

Two weeks in segregation and then, when you get out,

straight into a single cell. All on your own.

"May your plans be dark and as impenetrable as night,

and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt."

- Are you taking the piss? - I was quoting Sun Tzu.

I know when someone's taking the piss, okay?

You wanna watch that fucking tongue of yours

or I'll rip it out of your fucking throat

quicker than you can say, "Psycho fucking nut-job".

- Do you understand? - Yes, Mr. Farrow.

Good, David.

I know you're here, so you might as well come out.

I knew it. Mr. Farrow says hello.

- Am I missing something? - Yeah. A few brain cells.

- What? What did you say? - Let's get this over with.

- Where the fuck is Lizzie Davis? - Safe.

I told you to bring her here.

There are rules.

Oh, fucking hell, don't start with all that old-way bullshit.

This is the 21st Century, Harry. The Krays are dead.

The old school rules went out years ago.

- No women or children. - A job is a job. Money is money.

Now, get out and bring her to me.

Do you know who she is?

I don't fucking care who she is.

Mr. Farrow wants her grabbed, so, Mr. Farrow...

Where the fuck are you? Hey!

Mr. Archer says goodbye.

Fucking prick.

I dispose of my victims using potassium hydroxide.

It's a highly effective method of disposal.

Have you tried it?

Can't say I have, no.

I thought you would have, given your background.

What the fucking hell do you know about my background?

You know your way around a cadaver.

You're considered to be something of a craftsman.

- Who have you been talking to? - I hear things.

Yeah, I bet you do.

Come on, sunshine, what's going on?

You give me the silent treatment for days,

then all of sudden you're going on about acid baths.

Potassium hydroxide is... alkaline.

Well, pardon the fuck out of me.

I was just trying to make conversation.

Exploring shared interests and so forth.

And that's it, is it? That's the only reason?

Actually...

no.

- Vic... - What about him?

- He wants me to kill you. - Oh, yeah?

- So why haven't you given it a pop yet? - When I kill...

it's because it's going to amuse me,

not because some little jumped up barrow boy

snaps his fingers. I don't particularly like you;

you're loud...

uncouth and your personal hygiene leaves a lot to be desired,

but still, I'm not interested in killing you.

- Oh, thanks for the warm glow. - And I believe...

your friends... are in trouble.

Carmen, my darling daughter, I...

First of all, I don't hear from you.

Then you tell me to pack up a bag and go

and now Jimmy turns up and tells me that you're in prison!

- What is going on? - Sorry, mate!

You know, I'm sorry, I just,

- I just need to be sure you're safe. - Don't worry.

And you didn't tell anyone, right?

No! I didn't tell anyone where I was going.

I know.

I know! Well, I'm sorry.

Richie!

Sweetheart, I'm going to have to call you back. Something came up.

What the fuck's going on?

Get off him, you cunt.

You all right?

I'm swinging in a fucking hammock here!

Looks like Vic is making his move.

Really? I wouldn't have noticed.

What's going on here?

Get off of me, you fucking...

All right! Stay where you are! That's it, that's it.

Georgie boy! Come out to play.

Come on, where are you? It's the postman.

Come on, George.

This is not the way to treat an old friend.

Haven't you pricks learnt?

- Turn around and fuck off. - I'm unstoppable.

Come in, Victor.

Hello, George.

How's it going, mate?

I am sorry I haven't popped in earlier but I've been busy.

- What do you fucking want? - Well, you see...

I was trying to work out in my head how long it's been

since we had that one to one together.

I can't put a date on it,

but I seem to remember you had to be carried out.

Yeah, well, things didn't change, George.

I mean, while you've surrounded yourself with muscle

and lived off your reputation...

I've been building a reputation with my own hands, George.

You were always a nasty fucking mongrel.

You should've been put down years ago.

Yeah, well, unfortunately, no one had the guts, did they?

Is that what you think?

No one cared enough. You were just an after-thought.

Something to be got rid of when proper business had been done.

I can see you know it's true.

You're a fucking pest,

an annoying fly that no one could get rid of.

Tell me...

is that Anne-Marie there?

My daughter, yes.

Well, it's a bit heavy with the shading around the edges but,

well, it's not bad I suppose.

Tell me, how is Alice?

Don't you talk about her.

Oh, well, it's just that, I heard she was in a bad way.

You know, Alzheimer's, isn't it? I mean,

that is a terrible illness, George.

Come on. Makes you forget everything...

and everybody.

Please.

It's funny you saying that um...

she's your daughter.

Didn't Alice ever say anything to you?

- What? - She never mentioned...

No, well, she wouldn't, would she?

She was beautiful though, back in the day.

A real head-turner.

I bet she's a fucking mess now. Age is a cruel thing.

Doesn't take any fucking business. A bit like me.

Come on make your move.

What, with the Alzheimer's,

I suppose she doesn't remember the night that I showed her

what a real man could do to her body,

to her mouth... to her fucking cu...

I used her George, like a piece of fucking meat.

And when we were done, she could barely fucking walk.

I was surprised that she kept the baby, George, though.

Honestly, you, um...

you never once looked at Anne-Marie and thought,

"I think there's a little bit of Vic in there"? No?

You're lying.

Yeah. How sad. Even now you can't admit it.

You can't deny death, George...

and I am Death.

Twenty-third of July, nineteen seventy fucking three.

That was the last time that you and me had a one on one.

I wasn't carried out of there, George. I dragged myself out.

But this time, I'm walking out.

Get this clown off me! George Briggs is in danger.

- What? - Get someone up there, now!

Go. Go check on Briggs. Go.

Oh, no.

Sir.

- He's dead. - What do you mean he's dead?

- He's dead. He's been fucking stabbed. - Oh, fuck's sake.

I'm gonna fucking rip his head off!

Stop him! Stop him!

Why don't you fuck off,

you long streak of paralyzed piss.

You fuck!

Richie. Hey, it's tragic what happened to George.

You'd better be fucking sure, old man.

Get your fuckin' hands down!

Hey, I can see you're upset.

Listen, if there's anything I can do to help,

you just say so.

Well, or, you could die slowly and painfully.

- That'd be nice. - No...

I intend to lead a good and full life

somewhere outside this shithole.

And thanks for that tape.

I've got my legal team coming in this afternoon.

We're going to listen to it.

Then we're going to decide how much compensation

I'm going to have from the authorities.

Oh, and by the way, that whole Carmen thing...

Magicians call it mis-direction.

You sent Jimmy off to Spain

to look after your beautiful daughter, right?

He should have been here, trying to save Lizzy.

You know you've got a shit-eating grin?

Well, grin big. 'Cause, you're gonna be eating an awful lot of shit.

Your associate is dead. And Lizzy is alive and well.

Bollocks. You're lying.

He's not lying.

I don't know about you two,

but the novelty of this place is fading fast.

Yes, I'm beginning to think we've outstayed our welcome.

Sir, you need to see this.

Fuck right off, that fucking ain't mine.

Perhaps, but this definitely isn't yours.

Put him in Seg. Guard!

Fuck off!

Lock 'em all up.

All prisoners back in your cells immediately!

Immediately!

Excuse me, ma'am?

I was wondering if you'd received my application?

- Keep away from me. - Keep your distance prisoner!

I was wondering if you received my application.

I said, step away, now!

Now!

Anne-Marie?

I'm so sorry to hear about your father.

Please, I really don't need your sympathy.

You really are just like him, aren't you?

Yes, I am... and I'm very proud to say so.

My mother passed away in the middle of the night.

I wasn't going to tell my father until he was safely away.

Thought he might simply give up and stay in prison.

Well...

- at least, they're together now. - You think that's how it works?

I don't know.

I just think it's better to hang on to hope, that's all.

Well, if there is a heaven and a hell,

I think my dad would need Richie to help him escape again.

They won't release his body until after the inquest.

It could be weeks.

They say they've got the man who was responsible

but we all know who really did it.

He is the devil.

If he's not the devil, he comes a close second.

I'll leave you in peace.

Lizzy.

I'll still help them escape.

It's what my father would have wanted.

There's no point in us both being heartbroken.

The plan's still on.

Jack, you in?

Do you know why I'm here?

Oh, okay, thanks.

When?

Well, it's got to be tonight.

The food here is awful and the view from my room

- is not much better... - You fucking idiot.

- You don't know why I'm here, do you? - You what?

All you had to say was you wanted to be with her.

- I never said I didn't... - No!

Shut the fuck up and listen to me for a change.

You have an amazing woman here

who really, really likes you for some unknown fucking reason.

But the pair of you are perfect together

and these planets in alignment moments don't come along that often.

- But when they do... - Jack...

But when they do, you grab a hold of them.

You grab a hold of her and you keep hold of her,

because you never...

Because, you never know when she's going to be gone.

So, Richie fucking Archer, know this.

I'm not putting my friend from the lodge on the line

because I want to assist in a prison break.

But because...

Because...

Lizzy deserves a shot

at being happy for the rest of her life.

You got that?

So, get on with it, you flash cunt.

Hey, there. Let's have that pint soon. My shout.

No, no, no. I owe you one, mate.

Saw you lot getting in Razor's face.

That makes us friends, I reckon.

Yeah, well, I don't like him or his sort.

Oh, drug dealers, right. Fuck, no.

So, I take it you're not a big fan of drugs then.

No. That surprises you, yeah?

Yeah. A lot of people think that because you're young

and in prison that you gotta be banging to the narco but no.

Now what's your problem with, what's his name?

- Raisin. - Razor.

What's my problem with him?

Yeah you seem to have something very personal

going on between you two.

Like with you and that new fella.

Yeah, well, if you feel the same about Razor

as I feel about that puddle of puke,

I could probably help you settle a few scores.

- Razor killed my little brother. - Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.

All right, well, yeah. You don't really need to say sorry.

- Yes, I do. I know how you feel. - Fuck you. No, you don't.

Yes, I do!

My brother was killed by a bunch of awful little fuckers

so, believe me when I tell you I know how you feel

and I'm sorry, all right?

All right.

So, what happened?

My little brother got on with the wrong lot.

I was banged up in here so I couldn't protect him out there

and then, that one...

tested a bad batch out on him.

Pinned him down, injected that shit into him.

Killed him stone dead.

Yeah, well, in two weeks' time, Farrow's gettin'

all his connections set up here

and this place is going to be crawling with drugs. His drugs.

- That's why Razor's with him. - They're the same.

What the fuck am I supposed to do about it?

I just don't have the people to take them on.

No. Not in the cold light of day, you don't.

Ah, shit.

Calling all officers to the control room.

All officers to the control room, please.

Get the fuck off!

Hope you don't mind me dropping by, Vic.

I just wanted to have a word in your shell-like.

You fucking lowlife piece of dogshit.

All this fucking chaos is down to you, innit?

Me? I think you're crediting me with too much influence, mate.

Yeah.

Well, well, well. What have we got here?

Yeah, I'm assuming this is a bad cut, knowing you.

Have you ever wondered why your brother chose me over you?

Don't you fucking talk about my brother.

I'm going to ask you a question and how you answer it

is going to dictate how the rest of this goes down, all right?

Ready? Here we go. Do you remember her name?

- What? - Her name.

I want you to tell me her name.

Whose fucking name?

All right, I'll give you a hint, shall I?

She was 16 years old.

Pretty little thing, bit of a rebel, too.

What was her name?

I don't know what the fuck you're talking about.

One night, she didn't come home.

Her friends, her family, her neighbors,

they all went out and looked. What was her name?

Oh.

The clouds part and the sun shine through. Hallelujah!

What was her name?

- Jane! - No, Vic, it was not Jane.

No, no, don't do that again.

She was found dead in a squat in Lambert.

She choked to death on her own vomit.

Now what was her name?

Jenny.

Her name was fucking Jenny.

Jenny White.

I didn't force her to do anything.

I warned you.

Time and again, I warned you to keep your shit

out of my manor. Would you listen?

No, you fucking wouldn't!

I remember now.

She had red hair, blue eyes, freckles.

And you're right,

she was a really pretty little thing...

...and a good fuck, too!

Yeah...

I think I've had enough of you, Vic.

In fact, I think we've all had enough of you.

George was right.

I should have done this years ago.

- Listen, you want revenge? - Yeah, I fucking do.

Good, that's my specialty.

Here, give him a taste of his own medicine, yeah?

Take care, son. Try to stay alive.

You're going? It's just getting interesting.

I'd like to stick around and help

but I've outstayed my welcome.

Hands behind your back!

- Oi! There's one of your lot down injured in here. - Fuck me.

Come on, I know you're dying to say it.

They went head to head.

You're lucky you're good looking

because your jokes are fucking awful.

What would you have said then?

Come on, get the gear. And grab those flares.

They might come in useful.

Are they going to break through?

Could any of the prisoners reach here?

I can't say, Governor.

The whole prison is out so, it's a possibility.

Sir. Additional services and extra uniformed officers

are en route, Sir.

- Are you all right, Gov? - I'm just under the weather.

- Do you want me to take over? - I just need a moment.

I'll be in my office.

Okay, there's injured officers there, look.

- Why aren't they using their keycard? - Just let them in.

- Fuck. - It's only one,

I'll deal with it.

They've broken through Gate 237.

- How did you? - I supposed you want to come with us.

Richie.

- Don't worry about him. He's all right. - "All right"?

- The bloke's a fucking psycho. - Yeah well, there is that.

I think the word "psycho" is an overused term.

Whatever. Shall we?

That's for my brother. That's for my fucking brother.

Good luck.

The way out's this way.

I have a long overdue meeting with Governor Pryce

and I really don't want to let her down.

Quinn, you fucking prick.

Okay, you plum, give me your best shot.

- There's no need for that. - Now back off, Butch.

Without Mr. Quinn we wouldn't be on this side of the prison.

You what?

He's on the square with Houghton.

Listen, the riot police have nearly got this under control

so we need to hurry up. Come on.

What, so I don't get to kill him then?

Oh, shut up, Butch.

Keep going, and turn left at the next gate.

Wait, wait. Wait, where are you going?

I'm going to the control room.

And how are we supposed to get out?

Now, see, he's going to be in the control room, Butch.

If I'm gone too long, they'll know something is up.

Okay? I'll buzz you through the last gate

that'll take you to the prison yard.

- Now get going. - Sounds risky.

That's the plan, Butch.

There's one!

Please, David. We can work this out.

You want your own cell, don't you?

I can make that happen. I can get you anything you want.

Anything. Please. David, please.

Governor...

...this begging and pleading, it lacks dignity

and to be honest,

it won't do you an ounce of good.

I've just pierced your left carotid artery.

Now, an educated lady will realize

that when I release what is essentially

acting like a plug, you will have approximately

two minutes to get your affairs in order.

Your time, it starts...

now.

That is supposed to be open.

- Can we trust him? - He's a mate of Houghton's.

What a bent cop? That's hardly a glowing recommendation.

Should we go back for him?

He's locked the gate. We're stuck here.

- Hmm. - Now that I know is a bad hmm.

I need some officers in B wing.

Stay down. Stay down.

Stay down. Don't move.

Fuck off!

Richie.

Oh, be quiet, Butch.

I've been on enough jobs with him to know

he needs peace and quiet for this.

Oi!

So much for the fucking Freemasons.

Oh, good.

Hello, mate. Where have you been?

The canteen and A-Wing are secure now, Sir. Just...

- What are you doing, Sir? - What? Nothing.

Where do we have the incoming facility?

Who requested the helicopter?

All right, fellas, you can relax.

Oh, come on, don't muck about, there's no time to lose.

Time for those flares, Butch.

All right, mate.

Why are we still here?

I didn't know you could fly an 'elicopter.

I can't.

I'm just so bloody sorry,

George couldn't make it out with us.

Richie, darling, you tried and we almost got away with it.

- Yes, we did. - Well...

this is goodbye.

I wish I could get to the funeral.

I know.

- Do me a favor. - For this and these

and the helicopter, you name it, girl.

- Look after her. - Hmm?

Lizzy.

Yeah, of course, I'm going to look after her.

Make sure she knows how much you care about her.

You never were very good at this sort of thing.

Right. Who fancies a trip to the land of the free

and the home of the brave?

I thought we were going to America.

You sure you want to come with us?

You sure you want me to?

- You sure you want to ask that question? - Ooh!

Hang on a minute. "Hamish"?

- Is someone having a laugh? - What's wrong with Hamish?

Do I look like a sweaty sock?

Och aye, Boyo.

Hamish is a Scottish name.

I was doing Scottish.

Really?

That's quite clever, that is.

Yeah, this is how we steal, the new way.

Yeah. Sort of takes all the fun

out of everything, though, doesn't it?

I fucking hate it.

Give me a sawed-off and a sledgehammer, any day.

Good afternoon, gentlemen.

Sir Edward. Pleasure to meet you at long last. Please take a seat.

Well, to work.

Well, actually before we start, could I ask,

weren't you robbed a while back?

I'm sorry. You were misinformed.

No. No, it was here, in London. Not long ago.

One of your gold reserves got turned over.

Yeah, there was an incident but those responsible were caught.

I heard that there was a second gang,

posing as armed police officers who switched the gold.

And like you say, the robbers were apprehended

so nobody bothered to check that the bullion remaining

in the vault was pure.

And this is the good bit.

The real gold was smelted down, recast

and sold back to your bank...

at a bloody good rate as it happens.

Can you believe such a thing? The audacity of some people.

- Why are you here? - Why are we here?

Well, so that you can prove to us

that underneath the Savile Row is a half-arsed decent human being.

See, I've got...

a list of charities here

that are particularly close to our hearts.

Now, we'd like you to show your philanthropic side

by making a contribution to each one of those,

out of your own pocket, of course.

I certainly won't be doing that.

Yes, Sir Edward, you will.

Unless you want your name plastered all over tomorrow's newspapers.

I've done my homework, you see.

I know all about your fraudulent activities,

- your insider trading. - That's extortion.

Actually, it's blackmail.

Do you honestly think you're going to get away with this?

- You, you... - I don't see why not,

your industry's been getting away with it for years.

You see the only difference between our two worlds

is that nobody from banking has ever been sent to prison.

Oh, don't give me that speech about how bankers

have messed up the world.

Without the banking industry, the little people

wouldn't be able to afford bigger houses,

- more expensive cars, luxury... - You mean borrow to buy?

And I can't believe you used that expression,

"little people."

Those people can't afford those things.

Maybe, if they worked a bit harder.

- Can I get to work on him? - Roy! Roy, back off.

Go on, have a heart. He's even older than we are.

All right, Sir Edward,

if that deal is not quite tantalizing enough for you,

let me offer you a, um...

- what's it called, Roy? - Um, deal incentive?

No, no that's not strong enough.

"Sweetener."

What could you possibly promise me

to make me change my mind?

I think of it more as a threat, old boy.

The gold that was stolen.

The gold that was sold back to you.

Who did it actually belong to?

Yeah, them.

And if there's one thing you can be certain of

with the Chinese, they are very, very driven in business.

And very protective of their business.

Do the right thing.

It will gratify some people and astonish the rest.

You're right. That is magenta.

Do you think he's going to be all right?

I hope so.

It can take it out of you, this job.

He looks tired. Needs an 'oliday.

Hmm, well, no rest for the wicked, eh?

Who are you calling wicked?

Anyway, it's you lot that needs the 'oliday.

- Retirement, in fact. - Don't forget I...

"I am the young gun on the firm."

Turn it in, Butch.

You've been saying that for the last fucking 30 years.

You know I don't like that, unless it's upside down.

No, still don't like it.

- Worth three million. - Oh!

Three million? I should have been a fucking painter.

- You could always steal it. - Lizzy!

- What? - We've got principles.

Never steal art. Well, never steal bad art.

So, what's next, Richie?

Are we going to steal more gold?

Maybe. But first I've got to see a bloke about a bird.

- What bird? - Black...

about that tall.

It's astonishing.

I never thought I was going to see it again.

Thank you, Richie.

Hey, thank you for offering us sanctuary.

You've been promising to come here for so long

I was starting to take it personally.

Yeah, well, my life did sort of run away from me if you know what I mean.

Looks like it's treated you well, though.

Oh, yeah.

Good to see you again, my friend.

You too, my friend.

And listen, we'll try not to be a nuisance for too long, all right?

Actually, I was hoping you'd stay a while. Help us out.

We're having a little trouble with the Taormina family.

Oh, come on, we're a bit too old for that sort of work.

With age comes wisdom.

We've tried our muscle on them,

and they're not getting the message.

- What would you need? - A more subtle, clever approach.

Subtle, clever, yeah. Well, we can do that, yeah.

You know, why am I getting the feeling this is an offer

- I can't refuse? - You can refuse.

But I got a feeling...

you wanna do it.

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