All language subtitles for Johnny English Strikes Again (2018).BluRay.x264-DEFLATE-EPSiLON-EVO-HDBEE-OaSis-RARBG.English.orig.Addic7ed.com

Oh, bollocks.

We've got a problem.

A cyber attack?
Yes, Prime Minister.

Took me
two bottles of wine

and half a packet of sleeping
pills to finally nod off.

And you wake me because some fat-fingered
hacker's pinched your PIN number?

Well, it's a little more serious than that,
Prime Minister.

Hmm?
The identities of every one

of our serving agents
have been exposed.

What?

Who's doing this?
We're not sure, ma'am.

So one week before I host
my first G12 Summit,

Britain's entire security
apparatus has been taken down

and you know
absolutely nothing?

That does pretty much sums up
the situation, ma'am, yes.

Well, you better get someone on
it and find me some answers!

Yes, but that's the problem.
We don't have any agents left.

They've all been outed.

So bring back an old one!

All units, this is Juliet Echo.
Stand by for target coordinates.

Target acquired.
Repeat, target acquired.

Now then, what have we here?

Sorry, sir.

Never mind, Baggaley.

Your concealment and camouflage
work is definitely improving.

Thank you, sir.

Come on.

You, too, Ibadulla.

Excellent. That is
a first-class man-trap.

Six house points.
Yes!

Right, let's get back
to school before matron

notices you're missing.

And don't worry, there aren't
any more booby traps.

Apart from this one,
of course.

Mr. English?

We haven't seen him, sir.

Huh.

And that's camouflage.

Hmm.

And go.

And go.

And go.

The welfare of your children
is our paramount concern.

They're never exposed
to any unnecessary risk,

I assure you.

I think that's an "F" for your bomb
disposal coursework, Hattersley.

"You're looking particularly
beautiful tonight."

You're looking particularly
beautiful tonight.

"Ching!"

Ching!

Have a good half-term, sir!
Thank you.

Are you seriously telling me
this is all we've got?

Most of them are either dead,

having hip operations or
recovering from prostate surgery.

Okay.

Before your briefing, we'll need you
to re-sign the Official Secrets Act.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you very much.

Any of you gentlemen
remember this?

Ooh, the Mont Blanc Blaster.
Haven't seen one of those for years.

Take the cap off and, if memory serves,
you've 20 seconds to replace it

or it detonates with the force
of a stun grenade.

Thank you.

Teas on the left, gentlemen.

And coffees on the right.

Excellent.

Oh, damn it,
I forgot my pills.

Here,
have some of mine.

Scotch whisky, single malt?

Thank you very much.

Coffee.
Oh.

Here, let me
help you with that.

Tea?

Ooh, this one just needs
a little top-up of hot water.

I'll be right back.

Man's a divot
of the first order.

Someone should put him
out of his misery.

Along with whoever
furnished this room.

Oh!

Ah, good morning.
Sorry to keep you.

Are the others here?

Um...

Oh.

They, um... They nodded off.

Right...

And who are you exactly?

English.

- Johnny English.
- Well...

"English..."

You'll leave immediately.

My people will give you
the full briefing en route.

Oh, is there
anything you need?

Yes, nerve gas nasal spray,
a type-four exoskeleton...

You should probably
start a list.

And a garroting watch, with a rubber strap,
not the steel bracelet

because the links get caught in
the little hairs on my wrist.

Oh, and I'll also
need a Bough.

What's a Bough?

Sir!

Wonderful to see you!

Yes, all right, Bough.
We're going on a mission, not a honeymoon.

Yes, of course, sir.

Ah. I think it's the pin of your buckle, sir.
It's caught on my jumper.

Yes, I can see
what's wrong, Bough.

If you go to your left
and I'll go to my right.

I'm sorry, no, if you go to your
right and I'll go to my left.

No. If I go clockwise
and you go anti-clockwise...

Er, no, I think that's
making it worse, sir.

Hmm. I'm surprised
that didn't work.

Good morning, sir. I have your
agent activation pack here.

Department-issue smartphone.

580-megapixel camera,
4.7-inch retina HD display.

Hmm-hmm. Ingenious. And what
does it shoot? Poison darts?

It doesn't shoot anything.
It's a phone.

There's a Twitter handle,
Instagram feed

and secure login for the
department Uber account.

What's he on about, Bough?

I need a weapon.
Not a box of gobbledygook.

I think, uh,
what Agent English

is getting at, sir, is all
this is highly trackable.

But since we're dealing with a very
sophisticated, digital target,

we might be less visible if we took
a more analog, low-tech approach.

Exactly.

I see.

Is there anything else
I can get you?

A gun.

We don't really
do guns anymore.

Just get him a gun.

Right, a gun.

Right. Haven't actually done
one of these before.

"It is my obligation
under section 14

"of the Health and Safety
Directive to inform you

"that the equipment with which
you are about to be issued

"can cause injury
and bodily harm.

"Furthermore, any agents
with nut allergies

"should be aware
that traces of cashew oil..."

Thank you.

Right, transport.

So, take any hybrid you want.

I'll take this one.

Oh, don't be ridiculous,
English. This car is a relic.

Drinks petrol, leaks oil
and has no passive,

let alone
active safety features.

Do you know what else
it doesn't have, sir?

Satellite navigation
or a single computer chip.

Making it completely invisible
to a digital enemy.

The equipment
Agent English requested, sir.

Thank you.

Phone, Bough?
Yeah.

That hi-tech villain of yours
will never see us coming.

Let's see
what they've given us.

Exoskeleton, exploding cotton buds,
the old shoebox inflatable.

Hmm.

Ooh, what are these?
Instant Release Super High Energy Pills.

Like sticking your fingers in an
electric socket. Highly recommended.

Right, so, the red ones must be
the Total Knockout Sleeping Pills.

Correct.

Hmm. Probably worth
labeling these.

Oh.

Look, sir. Sweeties.

Ooh.

Hang on a minute.

I always did love
a jelly baby.

I wouldn't if I was you, Bough.
"Jelly" is short for gelignite.

One bite and it'll take
the top of your head off

along with
the roof of the car.

So, what does this do?

It's a mixtape, Bough.

- So, destination?
- South of France, sir.

That cyber attack
seems to have been launched

from the Wi-Fi signal
of a hotel in Antibes.

Sir? Sir, I've just had
a fax through from HQ.

Background checks on all the guests
that accessed the Wi-Fi network.

You see? Who needs email?

Um...

One name has raised
a red flag, sir.

Sebastian Lynch, ex-Army
and Military Intelligence.

Now selling his services
to the highest bidder.

Where do we find him?
Directly ahead, sir.

He's got an 8:00 reservation
at the Cote de Roc restaurant.

The problem's going to be getting close
enough for a full surveillance, sir.

Not necessarily.

Oh, darling, I've just gotta
get this. Two seconds.

Simple plan, two parts. You provide
the distraction, I'll get the phone.

Yes, sir.
And from now on,

perhaps we should sound
like French waiters.

French waiters?

Yees.

Go on.

Are you finished now,
Sebastian?

Bread roll?

Yes, thank you.

Excellent choice,
madame.

Good evening.

How are you?

Bread roll, sir?

Yes. Thank you.

One second.

Excuse me,
would you mind?

Oh, yes. Evening.

Evening.

Thank you.

Where's my phone?

That is your phone.

Ooh.

Thank you.

Monsieur.

The, uh, shell on my wife's lobster,
could you remove it, please?

Yees.

Uh... Um...

Hmm.

Let me crack it for you.

Ow!
Oh!

Ow!

Hello?

Steve, I'll have to call you back.
Call you back.

Give me a sec. Hang on.

What is going on?

Sebastian,
don't get involved.

Ah.

What is he doing?
I don't know. He's a fool.

There we are.

Voilà.

Hmm. Bon app�tit.

I will talk to the manager.
I will talk to the manager.

Textbook, Bough.

Just
holiday snaps, sir.

Wait a minute, this photo.

It was taken the same day our villain
accessed the Wi-Fi, and look.

Scarcely 50 feet from shore.

Whoever was on that yacht

could easily have used
the hotel's Wi-Fi,

sent that signal
and then just sailed away.

I think it's time
we paid the Dot Calm a visit.

Algorithms.

We are surrounded by them.

Algorithms run our lives,

choose our TV shows, stream our music.
Even find us a date.

I know this chap, don't I?

Yes, he's that Silicon Valley
billionaire who dated a Kardashian.

Two Kardashians and a Black-Eyed Pea.
Keep watching.

But supposing there was an
algorithm for an entire country.

A single algorithm that could be
applied to every one of its problems.

A single algorithm that could take
a second-rate nation and make it

world class.

Every nation
is awash with data.

So now, more than ever, we need to
put that data to work for the people.

These few lines of code will
deliver the kind of change

they have been dreaming of
their entire lives.

I am Xander. I love data.

He's so clever.

He's young, he's sexy,
he's insanely successful.

Just the qualities we need
people to associate with me.

Yes, Prime Minister.

And they will do when he
starts working with us.

But why would a Silicon Valley
billionaire work with us?

Just get him into Number 10
and let me work on him.

Yes, ma'am.
Go on.

Oh, God, now what?

There's been another attack,
Prime Minister.

Oh!
Air Traffic Control.

Someone's rerouted every
flight in Europe to Luton.

For God's sake, tell me the
agent you've got in the field

is making some progress?

So, how are we gonna find the
location of that yacht, sir?

Very easily, Bough.
We ring MI7.

Hello, hello?
Yes, I need the location of a boat called...

Hello? Hello, yes.
A boat called the Dot Calm.

Yes, it's a play
on words. Yeah.

Where?

Looks about
half a mile out, sir.

Do we wanna try
and swim it or...

No, Bough.
This is a job for the shoebox inflatable.

No, don't open it
in the car, sir!

Can you reach
your door handle?

No, sir.

I'll try my side.

Right, Bough, our aim is to get
on board without anyone noticing.

And how are we gonna do it?

Magnetic boots.
Brilliant, sir.

Simple mechanism.

Left switch activates left boot.
Right switch activates right.

Okay, let's go.

Remember, the absolutely vital
element of this mission is surprise.

Now, you have to get up
pretty early in the morning

to outwit
British Intelligence.

Quick!

Good evening, gentlemen.

Shall we start
with your names?

Clearly you have no idea
who you're dealing with.

That's why I'm starting
with your names.

Actually, would you mind
coming down here?

It's really hard to have
a conversation like this.

I have a better idea.

It's no good,
it won't move, sir.

We'll see about that.

Low-intensity
exploding cotton bud.

That's quite a powerful charge
for such a small space, sir.

Oh, nonsense.

There will just be
a slight pop.

Shall we locate the hold and look
for the source of that signal?

I think we should locate the hold and
look for the source of that signal!

Come on!

I'd say we have
our villain, Bough!

You need to keep
your voice down, sir.

And we're not going
to lose him.

Hand me the sherbet fountain.

Three sucks and the location
transmitter is activated.

This gin palace will show up
as a hostile from 30,000 feet.

Hmm.

This is now an enemy target.

Aniseed balls.

If you'd wanted to kill me,
you would have already done so.

Till we meet again.

Ow!

Well, that was sooner
than I expected.

Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow.

Who do you
think she is, sir?

Well, if she's not
the owner of that yacht,

then she knows who is.

Either way, she's the key
to this case.

Is it true you were teaching,
sir? Before all this blew up?

If by "teaching" you mean

scouting for potential intelligence
operatives then yes, I was.

Hmm.

I actually got married, sir.
I don't know if you heard.

No.

Hmm.

Yeah, Lydia.

Lovely girl.

You never think about getting
hitched yourself, sir?

This is no life for a married man, Bough.
The danger, the constant travel.

Here you go, sir.

More Lydia's life
than mine, sir.

She's in the Navy, you see.

What, as a cook?

Or some kind of seagoing
secretary or...

Oh, no, sir. She's the captain
of a nuclear submarine.

Oh, right.
Hmm.

Do you think we should get some
petrol for the Aston, sir?

No. An Aston Martin is
surprisingly economical, Bough.

Besides, it looks like
we're in business.

Come on.

Looks like
an electric car, sir.

Yes, and sounds like
a nose hair trimmer.

A bunch
of triple-A batteries

is no match for old-fashioned
British horsepower.

Look at her cornering.
Seems so effortless, doesn't it, sir?

Arm the missile.

The what?

The missile, Bough,
the one with the tear gas warhead.

But they're just cyclists, sir.
We'll get past in a minute.

They're French cyclists,
Bough,

and they're obstructing
Her Majesty's Secret Service.

Wiper stalk
is armed, sir.

Sorry.

Terribly sorry.
We do apologize.

Stop it, Bough,
you'll only encourage them.

What are we gonna do now, sir?
Patience, Bough.

Driving like that, her battery
will be dead any moment.

And she'll roll
to a humiliating stop.

Bough, it is your job to keep
an eye on the fuel gauge.

Very impressive driving, Mr...

Golightly.

Basil Golightly.

And you're rather useful
yourself, Miss...

Bhuletova. Ophelia Bhuletova.

Hmm.

And this is...

Colin.

I thought we were
using fake names.

That is a fake name.

Oh, right.

Yes, this is Colin,

and I'm...

"Dasil."

Dasil.

Basil.

Well, Basil,

maybe there is a simpler way
of doing this.

Over a drink perhaps?

Well, that would be lovely.

Shall we say the bar at the Hotel
de Paris in Cagnes-sur-Mer? 8:00?

Mmm. It's a date.

Well,

I think my "running out of fuel"
ruse worked pretty well.

Mmm.

What?

Er, junior doctors.
They've confirmed they are going on strike

and the tube drivers
are coming out in support.

Oh, God. Leader of the Opposition,
has he come round from his heart surgery?

Yes, Prime Minister.

Oh, Jesus Christ, when will something
go right for me? What do you want?

They've hit us again,
Prime Minister.

Huh? Hacked into the Central
Traffic Control System.

Yes, they've turned every
traffic light in London to red.

Where's my bloody drink?

You've got to be joking?
Vodka tonic, no ice, no tonic.

Yes, ma'am.
Oh, and Mr. Volta has arrived, ma'am.

Mr. Volta,
welcome to Downing Street.

I have read so much
about this wonderful building.

Is this the stone triple staircase
designed by William Kent?

Um, yes, it probably is.
I can't swear to it.

- Can we do a quick...
- Needs Photoshop.

Oh!
This way. Hmm.

I am horribly late,
I do apologize.

It's the traffic,
it's the one thing I don't love about London.

Yes, well, I must admit
we are having a slight problem

with the lights at the moment.
Nothing major.

If you wanted, I could take a
look? It is kind of what I do.

I think it's actually a little
bit more complex than...

Xander, get a web address for
London's traffic control center.

Here is the login page, Jason.
Do you have a password?

Um...

I won't tell if you won't.
Right you are.

Bypassing security.
Security bypassed.

Oh, that's terrific.

Someone is hacking you.
Oh, I don't think so.

Denied service attack.
Yeah, primitive but effective.

You know what we could try,
rerouting all service requests

to our server farm in Nevada.

Um...
I...

Rerouting, Jason.

Rerouting complete.

Crikey.

So, what was it you wanted
to talk to me about?

You, Jason.

Get out.

I want to talk about you.

Excellent, Bough.
Nearly there.

Nearly there.

This is actually
a really nice hotel, Bough.

I'm turning to the right.

Shall one of us keep Miss Bhuletova busy
while the other searches her room, sir?

Good idea, Bough.
Alert me if you find anything.

Mr. Golightly.

Oh...

Indeed.

I thought perhaps you weren't coming.
On the contrary.

Wild horses couldn't
keep me away.

Madame? Monsieur?

Evening. What would you like?

I'm feeling a little homesick tonight.
I'll have a Moscow Mule.

And I'll have a London...

Lemming, please.

I'm not sure, what...

It's, uh, gin, vodka,

Armagnac,

sherry,

with just a little bit
of Parmesan.

So, what brings you to the South of France,
Miss...

Bhilli... Bholly...

Bhuletova.

Bhuletova.

I'm just visiting
a friend of mine.

Hmm.

And would this friend
be the owner of the Dot Calm?

Hmm.

Yes, he would.

And what about you,

Basil?

Oh, I'm just here
on business.

Although, it's rapidly
turning into pleasure.

Ooh! I love these.

They're really hot.

Are you all right?

Yes, fine.

Hmm.

Cheers.

I'm not sure I've ever met a
man quite like you, Basil.

Let me clear up
the uncertainty for you.

You haven't.

I'm sorry, Basil. I have to get
up really early tomorrow morning.

Oh, that's a shame.

How did you get on, sir?

Oh, gosh, what a wonderful
woman, Bough. Wonderful.

Right.

Charming. Intelligent.

Lovely sense of humor.
And obviously entirely innocent.

Although, I broke into her room and
she does have three passports, sir.

Romanian, Bulgarian, Russian.
Different name in each.

So she's been married
to three different people.

Not unusual in this day
and age, Bough.

And I also found some garroting
wire and two boxes of ammunition.

Well, single woman, traveling alone,
you can't be too careful.

You don't think
she might be a spy, sir?

A spy?

I think I know
what a spy looks like, Bough.

Oh.

Oh!

Ah.

Sir?

Sir!

I just got off the phone
to P in London.

He's found out who the
owner of that yacht is.

Jason Volta.

The world's most powerful
Internet billionaire, sir!

And he's in London,
right now.

The Prime Minister is personally
negotiating a trade deal with him.

Well, what are we waiting for?

Do you think we might
slow down a little, sir?

What?

Never mind!

With what appears to be
another cyber attack,

pressure is mounting
on the Prime Minister.

Every train in England?
Yes, sir.

They're all trying to terminate
at Bristol Temple Meads.

Morning, sir!

You see this, English?
Yes!

Please.

Ooh!

Tell me you've got something I
can take to the Prime Minister.

Would the name of the man
responsible do, sir?

Excellent, English, yes.

It's Jason...

Volta, sir. Jason Volta.

What?

You're accusing the PM's
knight in shining armor?

I'd need hard evidence.

Which...

...is why Agent English
is proposing

a penetration of Volta's
country estate in Surrey.

Yes, yes, yes, yes...

Well, do what you have
to do, English.

But for God's sake,
be discreet about it.

Oh! Oh.

Good.

Oh. Oh.

"Virtual reality"?

That's right, sir.

P's built a computer model of
the inside of Volta's mansion.

When you put on this headset, it will look
and feel as if you are inside the house.

You'll be able to open and close doors,
walk up and down staircases,

completely familiarize
yourself with its layout.

This floor moves in any
direction. So you can walk...

You can walk as far as you
want in the virtual world

without ever actually
leaving this room.

One thing though, sir.

The experience can be
very disorientating.

It's completely immersive

and some people lose all track
of their actual surroundings.

I think we can pretty much
guarantee that's not gonna happen.

I'll just need you to sign the
health and safety releases.

Would you excuse me
while I find an iPad.

Oh, go with him, Bough. If we don't
chivvy him along we'll be here all day.

Hmm.

Ah.

Watch out!

Door closing.

Going down.

Hey!

I'm sorry, sir,
but you're going to have to leave.

Ow.

Ow.

So,
we'll shortly be arriving at Admiralty House.

And, er, that actually used to be
Oliver Cromwell's own house. Um...

Uh...

And then we'll be going
to Horse Guards Parade.

Perhaps you'd like
to sit down, sir?

Hey, whoa!

I've got them!

However, the agent we have on this mission
is confident he's making major progress.

And, uh, yes, we have a potential suspect,
he's been identified.

And further covert
investigations are now ongoing.

Yes, quite.

So I expect to have more
to announce on this front

shortly.

Oh.

Sir?

Mmm?

Is everything all right, sir?
Yes, I've done it, Bough.

Child's play. Don't know what
all the fuss was about.

Pleasure to see you again,
Prime Minister.

It's a hologram.
Apparently you just speak to it normally.

The pleasure's all mine.

Hate to rush you, but was there
something in particular you needed?

Actually, I was just calling
really to see

if you had had a chance
to think things over.

I have.

But the thing is, Fiona, I just don't
really do other people's security.

Not that I don't want to.
But your infrastructure is old.

Plus the only way I could keep
you secure in the meantime

would be by storing all your
data on my own servers.

Obviously, that would be...
Yes. Jason,

what I really want to do is announce
this tie-up at the G12 meeting.

Do we have a deal?

Good luck, sir.

Hey.

Sir?

I said to get the chopper ready.
Right there.

Sir. Right away, sir.

Thank you.

- Tyler, come in.
- Copy.

Tyler, can you prepare
the chopper now?

We'll have everything ready for
you in a couple of minutes.

We can't keep meeting
like this, Mr. Golightly.

Oh, yes.

Or do you want to end this charade
and tell me your real name?

Go.

There's so much you don't understand
about this world you've got caught up in.

Spare me the idiot act.
You're British Secret Service.

Impressive work in France, by the way.
When did you realize I was a spy, too?

Oh, pretty much straight away.

Hmm.

I've spent two years undercover.
Simple operation until you showed up.

And I like
to keep things simple.

"Simple" is my middle name.

It would seem you've got
a choice to make.

Temporary suspension of hostilities?
A short-term partnership?

Agreed.
Hmm.

Hmm.

Politicians are even more gullible
than venture capitalists.

That is correct.

Get me a copy
of the target list.

We'll hit them once more
just to be on the safe side.

Give me your phone.
You don't have a phone?

A phone will give anyone
your precise location.

And yet they're so useful
for making phone calls.

Excellent.
I'm not phoning anyone.

I'm gathering evidence.

The target list, Jason.
Four iconic central London landmarks.

Make your selection.
Number three.

The London Eye.

This cyber attack could potentially
impact 16,000 visitors.

I found him snooping
around upstairs.

And who are you exactly?

I'm not telling you anything.

Hmm.

Face recognition
software launched.

Johnny English is a geography
teacher from Lincolnshire.

Rather heavily armed for a lesson
on European capitals, Mr. English.

Any thoughts, sweetheart?

He's British Intelligence.

And there you have it,
two words that have

no right being
in the same sentence together.

Do you really think
I came here alone?

I have a team of crack operatives out there,
right now,

just waiting to strike.

Uh-huh.

Sir!

What has happened
to this country?

How is it possible
that less than a century ago

the British Empire
ruled a quarter of the globe

and now it's relying
on someone

like you?

Hey! Stop!

Stop him?

Go.

- Close the gates.
- Yes, sir.

Help! Stop!

Obstacle directly ahead,
Mrs. Trattner.

Check your mirrors
and bring the car to a stop.

Er, excuse me. Hey.

Thank you.

Drive!

Excuse me.

What... What do you think
you're doing?

Excuse me!
You are not a qualified instructor.

But what about my instructor?
Turn left.

Oh.

Turn right.

For future reference,
I'm on your left.

Please, stop.
I can't do this anymore!

I can't see anything now!

Good.

When I say "go,"
turn sharp right.

Uh-huh.

Three, two, one.

Go!

And straighten up,
straighten up, straighten up.

And go!

Let's go, let's go.

Oh, now just bear left
a little. Good.

Straighten up, straighten up.

Good!

Well, that was
very good, Mrs. Trattner.

I think you made
some real progress today.

You're
not hearing me, English.

Given the Prime Minister's new friendship
with Volta, the situation has changed.

But the facts haven't, sir.
That attack is Volta's responsibility.

According to you, but not
according to anyone else.

Is he here yet?

Good afternoon, Prime Minister.
So, this is, uh...

English, Prime Minister.
Johnny English.

What exactly do you have
to say for yourself?

Rather a lot, actually.

However, men like me don't deal
in prevarication, Prime Minister,

so let me get
straight to the point.

Jason Volta is the man
behind these attacks.

And I have the evidence
to prove it.

I managed to record this
inside Volta's country lair.

But I should warn you,
Prime Minister,

that what you're about to see
is evil incarnate.

Hmm.

Here we are
at Fifi's third birthday!

And it's a very exciting day!

Hip hip, hooray!
Hip hip, hooray!

Happy birthday to you

Happy birthday to you

Thank you.

Can I just ask,
what is wrong with you?

The country is in a state
of complete chaos.

The press is wetting itself,

and the only person
capable of saving us

is the man you're accusing
of high treason.

I was in the room myself when he
gave the order, Prime Minister!

But there was a...

Do you know what I was
in the room with, English?

Your file, which I've read,
in its entirety,

and I have a few questions.

Did you or did you not burn

the Cote de Roc restaurant in
Antibes to the ground?

Um...

And did you or did you
not fire a guided missile

at a peloton
of French cyclists?

Well...

Before commandeering
an open-top bus

and tossing the tour guide
off the top deck,

and then assaulting an 82-year-old
grandmother in a sandwich shop

before battering the employee
of said sandwich shop

with two organic
sourdough baguettes?

Uh, I don't remember the...

Do you have any idea
how hard it is to be me?

- Uh...
- Hmm?

Do you have even
the foggiest notion

of how virtually impossible
it is to get anything done

in the face of events
and facts and voters

and that tsunami of tosspots
we call "the national press"?

Finally I get the chance to do
something good for my country,

and what happens?

The universe sends me you.

Well, do you know what I say?

I say, up the universe's arse!

And do you know what else I say?
You're fired.

With immediate effect.
Now get out!

And make sure I never clap eyes
on that imbecile ever again!

What
are you doing, sir?

What do you think I'm doing,
Bough? I'm going home.

But the Prime Minister is
finalizing her deal with Volta.

She's taking him to the G12 Summit
in Scotland as her special guest.

It's over, Bough. And there's
absolutely nothing we can do about it.

But, sir, I have a plan.

Remember my wife?

Clear your baffles.

What?
Mind your head, sir.

Ow!

This says we're sinking.

She's old and a little rusty, but she can
put on a hell of a fireworks display.

Excellent work, Commander.

Jeremy has always spoken very
highly of you, Agent English.

Who?

Oh.

Oh, yes, yes.

I'm no fan of the pen pushers myself,
so

when orders came through
stationing us here for the Summit,

well,
I thought a lift was the least I could do.

Right, let's get
a move on, Bough.

Oh, if you wouldn't mind
keeping your mobiles off

until you're well clear,
gentlemen.

The launch systems on the
missiles are a bit 1980s.

Gets a tad twitchy
around microwave radiation.

No problem there, Commander.
We're doing this mission old-school.

This spot is perfect.

Come on.

Sorry, sir.

Come on, come on...

Right, Bough.
Our mission here is simple.

Gain access to Volta's bedroom
and take him out.

How are you going to get up there,
though, sir?

A walk in the park
for the exoskeleton.

Remotely operated
neoprene bodysuit.

Increases the wearer's
strength 100 times.

Right, power it up.
Stick in the floppy disk and let's go.

Just...

Crikey, sir!

When will
the weapon be ready?

As soon as the Prime Minister
signs the agreement, tonight.

How do I fire it?

Press once and the attack
is launched.

After which, the data
of every G12 country

will be transferred to the
servers onboard the Dot Calm.

Perfect.

Ah.

Cheers.

You're working for Russian Intelligence
and you have been from the start.

Which is why I've taken an antidote
to the poison you keep in your ring,

and which you've poured
into this drink.

And removed the firing pin
from that pistol.

Everyone has to make a life
for themselves.

It's just sad that yours is

over.

Hmm.

Fresh from my 3D printer.
Hundred percent plastic.

And 100% deadly.

Killing me won't save you.

Don't bet on it.

Seriously,
this cannot be happening.

Oh, but it is.

Drop the gun.

Get your hands in the air.

And you.

There's no time
for this, Johnny.

Oh, it isn't possible.

You cannot be working
with this English idiot!

Save the pillow talk
for your prison cell, Volta.

Are you inside, sir?
Yes, yes, Bough, you can power down.

Everything is under control.

Shut down.

An historic venue
for an historic meeting.

The delegates from each G12 member
nation will have their own priorities...

How do we get in now, sir?

What's the plan?

Hey, you!

Hey!

Thank you very much.
I hope you have everything you need.

Ow!

On behalf
of the United Kingdom,

may I welcome you here today to
this ancient meeting chamber

where the great Scottish clans

once settled their differences
and forged new alliances.

A place I have
specifically chosen

in order to make
a very special announcement.

Sir?

Are you all right, sir?
No, I'm not all right. Get me up, Bough.

It's very heavy, sir.
I know how heavy it is, Bough.

We've got to get
to the conference...

To the conference room
before Volta...

Before Volta triggers
his weapon.

And so, with my signature
on this agreement...

...it gives me
great pleasure, oh,

to welcome to you my guest,
my friend, Jason Volta.

Standing
by to launch attack, Jason.

Damn it, get me out of this stuff.
Johnny?

I can't see the join, sir.
It's the clasp.

Release the clasp and the
top and the bottom separate.

Must have jammed
when you fell over, sir.

For goodness sake.
Wait. Try this.

That is quite
a lot of oil, sir.

Oh, come on!
Come on, come on...

Can you imagine what the world would
look like if it was run by Apple?

Or Google? Or...

Me?

Do you think
you'd have failing schools?

Do you think you'd have endless
waiting in your hospitals?

No.

Think you'd have such long
lines in your airports?

- No.
- No.

No, because all of these are
simple data management problems.

And people like me,
we love data.

We live for data.

Ha!
My...

Do you know
what I live for, Volta?

God.

Eliminating the threat that lying
villains like you pose to this country.

Oh, for God's sake.

Who is he?

Arrest this whack job.

The only person ordering an
arrest around here will be me.

There's no cause for concern,
ladies and gentlemen,

you are now in the capable hands
of Her Majesty's Secret Service.

And you, my friend, are in for
an uncomfortable ride.

Where was I?

Living for data.

Exactly.

My algorithms can solve every one of your
problems as long as I have one thing.

Control.

And that is what you are about
to give me now.

Jason, I wonder
if you could just clarify...

Shut up.

Now, hold on.

Castle now locked down

and under your control, Jason.

The agreement this ignoramus
just signed

didn't just give me access
to all the UK's data.

It also gave me access to a junction box,
in North Ayrshire

that connects
the entire World Wide Web.

Disable the fiber-optic cables in that
box and the Internet will cease to exist.

Johnny? Are you okay?

Have you got a phone?
We need to call for backup.

There's no time for backup.
I'm going after Volta.

And don't lose that one!

Do you understand what it means
if I turn the Internet off?

Cities will go dark.
Planes will fall out of the sky.

Trains will collide.
Law and order will break down

and the world as you know it
will be over.

Show, don't tell, right?

Initiating attack, Jason.

Taking control
of junction box.

Suspending Internet and electricity
supply across Britain and Europe.

Stage one of attack complete.

Ladies and gentlemen.
I can stop the attack

as long as each of you signs the same
agreement as the Prime Minister,

giving me complete control.

Your call.

Welcome to British Intelligence.
Get me Pegasus!

For MI5, press one.
For MI6, press two.

For MI7, press three.

Eight G12 signatures
now acquired.

Signal the chopper,
we're almost done here.

For accounts, press five.

For childcare services, press six.
Oh, come on!

For more options, press seven.

What?

Only two further signatures required to
achieve control of G12 nations' data.

All UK data

now successfully transferred
to the Dot Calm.

- For Aphrodite, press one.
- For Pegasus, press two.

Oh, my God.

Dive the submarine.
Repeat, dive the submarine.

Director's office?
This is Johnny English.

I need to speak to Pegasus immediately.
It's a national emergency.

One moment, please, sir.

This is HMS Vengeance.

We have a full launch code.
Repeat, launch code is locked.

Do I have your permission
to fire?

Oh, my God. Could you hold on
one moment, please?

Sir? Sir!

Hello?

Hello?

Sir! HMS Vengeance here.
Do I have your permission to launch?

What?
Listen, we have to call in an attack.

Did you say
"attack," sir?

Yes, an attack. Attack.

General quarters,
we are go for launch.

Target coordinates locked,
Commander.

Hello?

Hello?

Commander,
the missile is being redirected.

It seems to be locking on
to a new hostile target.

What's a "Sherbet F"?

- Oh, no.
- What was that?

Dot Calm appears
to be offline, Jason.

The cyber attack
has been halted.

Did you

make a call quite close
to the submarine, sir?

Um...

Because...

You did it, sir!

Mission accomplished!

Well, exactly!

I am re-evaluating
our options, Jason.

Johnny! Johnny!

Volta is getting away!
He's heading for his helicopter!

No, Bough.

This one's mine.

Careful, sir. Sir?

Last two steps, sir.

Not so fast, Volta!

Is this supposed to scare me,
Sir Lancelot?

Take cover, Bough.

Don't worry, he's only got six
bullets in that thing.

And, of course,
the thing itself.

You've run out
of options, Volta.

Oh, you think you've won?

Mmm.

Rerouting the attack
to our Nevada servers, Jason.

The world's going down, English.
And I'll be the last man standing.

Goodbye, English!
Goodbye, Internet.

I've got it. That's a Gazelle
341 light attack helicopter.

If we can hack into
its operating system,

we can disable
the drive function.

Here.

Look at you! You couldn't use that
thing if your life depended on it!

Let's get outta here.

Get this steel bird in the...

Rerouting complete. Attack data now
installed at our Nevada servers.

Should I initiate?

Jason?

Should I initiate
the new attack?

Initiate this!

Jason.

Well, uh,
ladies and gentlemen.

I think we can all agree, that wasn't
quite the evening we were expecting.

I had hoped to present
to you tonight...

Thank you... a vision of
what Britain might be.

But, as it happens,
the man who saved us all this evening,

the man who, I might add,
I personally assigned to this case,

has presented us with a
different kind of vision.

A living embodiment, if you like,
of those fundamental British qualities

that have ensured that our
beloved island nation endures.

Courage under fire,
endless ingenuity

and above all, a quiet

unassailable dignity.

Thank you.

All together.

Welcome back, Mr. English.

Thank you, Headmaster.

Thank you for agreeing
to be our guest speaker.

Now the governors and staff are all
waiting for us in the rose garden.

Yes, if you could just excuse me
for a few minutes, Headmaster.

Oh.

Morning, sir!
Hello, sir!

Welcome back, sir!

Surprise!

Thank you.

Where's Straker?

Here, sir.
Good.

And, of course, Baggaley.

That was very good.
Very good.

All right, gather round,
everyone. Gather round.

I've got some toys
to show you.

Ooh!
There we go.

There we are. There we are.

- Breadstick blowpipe, anyone?
- Me!

There you go.

Granny Smith hand grenade?

And what about a garroting watch?
Here, sir.

There you go.

Ooh!
Here, let me take that.

Don't worry,
it's only a mild sedative.

Oh! That's just
a five-second fuse.

Yes, all right, we all know
what garroting looks like.

Whenever you're ready,
Mr. English.

Oh, I'm sorry, Headmaster,
I'll just be one moment.

Just take those. Thank you.
Ooh.

Put those away, shall we?
There we...

Um...

I always
did love a jelly baby.