Original subtitles

(ominous music)

- Abacus?

(gun fires)

(gun clacks)

(gun fires)

(bone cracks) (punch thuds)

(gun clacks)

(gun fires)

(angelic music)

(gun fires)

(thrilling music)

(gun fires)

(gun clacks)

(ominous music)

- Your--

- Shh, shh, shh.

You're okay.

Okay, shh, shh, shh, now.

Take your time.

Take your time.

You got all the time in the-- (Agent 49 mumbles)

You got something to say, say it.

- Your penis is hanging out.

- Oh.

Is he?

Is he really?

Ah, he is.

Oh, god.

I'm mortified right now.

I'm test-driving a zip fly,

and it's taking some getting used to, buddy.

- Maybe put it away?

- Oh, yeah.

(Logan laughs)

What's the point in keeping it out?

(Logan laughs)

Yeah, we just met, yeah?

Let me get him back.

Yeah, I've known guys 10 years haven't seen my johnson.

- This was my meet.

Gringori was my asset, Logan.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, you know my name?

You know me?

- I sit four desks away from you.

- What, at the office?

Agent 40, 43?

44?

- 49.

- What?!

That's crazy.

Give me a second, bro.

(Logan grunts)

We got Huxley?

We got Huxley in?

Huxley?

So, this is a aftermath of a siege.

This is Agent 49.

He's dying.

This is Huxley.

He is doing some work experience with us during the summer.

- Are you for real?

(Logan laughs)

- It's a new government scheme.

It's something I'm pretty proud to be a part of.

You know, bringing through the next generation.

- Is that guy gonna die?

- Yeah, he's definitely, he's most certainly gonna die.

- Find Abacus.

- Abacus?

Did he...

What could that mean?

- Ah, heck.

He's dead.

He's dead as a daddy dodo.

Yeah!

He's a nice guy.

I liked him.

He could do 500 press-ups on a couple of coconuts.

- Yeah.

Good kisser, and all.

Strong tongue.

- Yeah, he sounds like one hell of a human being.

Okay, let's roll this out, Action Team style.

(gentle music)

(explosion booms)

- Ma'am, we have a Skype friend request

from a Vlad Schev 69.

- Ah. Thank you, Anne.

Must be Vladimir Shevchenko of Oliviak,

rogue republic of Russia.

I didn't know he was still active.

- Shall I accept it and trace the source?

- Yes.

I was just about to say that.

Accept it and trace the source.

- Well, well, well.

What do we have here?

Cowardly custards of MI6.

Hello.

- Yes, this is MI6, Ruth Brooks.

How may I help?

- I have some pretty sick shit

lined up for you buttholes in the West.

- Oh, really, and what's that?

- Abacus.

Abacus, Abacus, Abacus, Abacus.

- Abacus is a myth.

- Maybe it is, maybe it isn't.

Or maybe it's completely just a false flag.

- That isn't what false flag means.

- Isn't it?

- A false flag would be if we planned something

to make it seem like you did something terrible

to frighten our own citizens.

- Oh, you've picked up completely

the wrong end of the stick.

You fool!

Well, that's actually a lot cooler

than what we thought it was in the first place.

So maybe it is that.

Suck my dick, United Kingdom,

North America's favorite bitch.

(hand thuds)

- That was good.

- That last bit really felt good.

I mean, it-- - Oh, yeah, and it was--

- Yes, brilliant, right?

- Yeah. - What bit wasn't so good,

you think, Sergei?

What bit did we lose them on?

- No, I'm sorry. - Hm, no, no, no, no, no.

Whisper, what bit was it?

- [Sergei] False flag.

- False flag bit.

The one bit I gave you to look after.

- [Ruth] Mr. Shevchenko, you haven't hung up.

- What? - You do End Call.

- What? Right.

I'm sorry.

This is an new laptop.

We're just trying to get the bugbears of it.

- What have you done? - Buddy, I thought that it's,

what do I press?

I don't-- - I think it's circle button

with camera on it.

I think. - Can you still see?

- Just put the lid down.

- Just put the lid down.

(lid clacks) Sorry.

- You should be.

- [Sergei] Is new laptop.

- Well, I shall burn your mother's village down.

- [Sergei] Oh, surely, I didn't know.

(gentle music)

- What the hell were you doing in Morocco?

You weren't even supposed to be there.

- Right, now before you say anything,

you can't make me wear underpants.

- What are you talking about?

- Yesterday, on the mission, where Mr. John flopped out.

Embarrassed by...

Was there something else on your mind?

- Yes, Agent 49 is dead.

He was one of my best agents.

- What, best at being dead?

- Just shut up.

You're a liability, and I'm sick of it.

Oh, really?

Would a liability be able to pull this from his pocket?

A dongle.

I found it on 49

before he bought it. (water splashes)

Oh, that just-- - Great.

- Sorry. - Brilliant.

- I got it. I got it.

- Oh, god. - It's difficult

to get a grip on it.

- Look at your fingers, they're huge.

- Just help me with the glass.

Get it off my fingers, please.

- Stuck.

- Ah. That's it.

Yep.

- Right.

What's on this?

- Details for an attack on the National Theater, Vienna,

where this year's World Peace Convention

of Good Day is taking place.

We fear Abacus may strike.

- "What, you're joking."

No, I'm being serious, Ruth.

I worked this out on my own.

"You're the best, Logan.

"I don't know what I'd do without you."

Oh, you'd be okay, but the world would be destroyed.

- Right, well, that's interesting.

We had a direct threat from Vladimir Shevchenko,

name-checking Abacus, this morning.

- Clever.

I look forward to taking him down.

- No, no, Logan, you won't be taking anybody down.

You'll be going to Vienna as eyes and ears only,

and you'll leave the rest to the Austrians.

- What the hell are the Austrians getting involved for?

- Because Vienna's in Austria.

- Oh, yeah. Mm.

(lively music)

You got anything, G-Whiz?

- Hell, yeah, Logi Bear.

I've noticed a lot more people dress their dogs here.

I've seen three or four with little vests on,

mainly smaller breeds,

but I did see a Rottweiler in a hoodie.

- Mm.

Must be a European thing.

(knocking)

(guns clacking)

- [Graham] I'm on you.

- [Logan] Cover me.

- Right behind you, boss.

(knocking)

(tense music)

(door clacks)

- Good morning, Mr. Logan.

Action Team.

Your superior, Ruth Brooks,

has sent me to assist you in your operation.

I am Agent Bogohardt of the Austrian Secret Service.

- We don't need any help.

We're fine on our own.

- I have intel on a prime suspect

that might be carrying Abacus.

- Well, fuck me.

Somebody pass me a wet wipe.

All right?

Monica Lang, head of explosives,

mixed martial arts, pretty much anything goes.

Oh.

Can you hear that?

- No.

- It's like a...

It's like a galloping in me undercarriage.

Oh, steady.

Oh, more like a canter now.

Oh, god.

- Ah, hey, hey, hey.

Hey, Mo, leave it.

Leave it for now.

Yeah, Mo, just chill out.

- I don't feel bad.

- Right.

Now show us this intel.

(device clicks)

So, who's this butt-munch?

- This is well-known bomb-maker and terrorist Naslav Klone.

- Wow.

Such a Russian baddie name.

- He's Ukrainian, actually.

- Well, what's the difference?

Same thing, potato, potato.

- Well, one difference

is that they are at war with each other.

Klone is down to perform at the main gala this evening.

In attendance will be the patrons

of the world's leading charities.

We believe inside the cello case is a dirty bomb.

(Logan snorts)

Codename: Abacus.

The security will be incredibly tight.

I believe we have to infiltrate, so--

- Okay, can it.

I got this, buster.

It's my team.

Right, here's how we're gonna do this thing.

Hux, you're going in, undercover as a waiter.

- I'm only here on work experience,

so I don't think I'm ready to be a waiter.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, there's no "can't" here.

You can do this.

Graham, you're my eyes and ears.

(gun clacks) - As per.

- Monica, you take Dork Vader here down to the basement.

Hack into the mainframe.

Put one Logan Mann on the gala's guest list.

(cameras snapping)

- Logan Mann?

But are you not going in disguise?

(Logan laughing)

- It's called hiding in plain sight.

But you wouldn't know a thing about that, would you?

(gentle music)

The king is in the castle.

What are you doing?

Are you waving at me? (Huxley whistling)

What, you're waving and whistling.

No. No.

You got to be a waiter.

Go to the ballroom.

Go in the ballroom.

Ballroom, okay?

Let me know as soon as Klone gets there.

- I have Klone in my sights.

Pretty's got a few big, suspicious suitcases with him,

and he's flanked by some rather tasty-looking toe rags.

Over.

- Roger that.

Evening.

- Can I take your name, please, sir?

- Yeah, it's Mann, Logan Mann.

- I'm sorry, sir.

Your name is not on the list.

- Would you mind checking one last time?

- Ah, come on, you fucker. (keyboard clicking)

(laptop beeps) Boom.

He's in.

- Oh.

Your name is here.

I apologize, Mr. Mann.

Please, have a good evening.

- I intend to.

Thank you, John.

(Monica sighs)

- [Bogohardt] Impressive.

- Yeah?

- So, what made you want to become a secret agent?

- Ooh, steady.

Are you flirting with me?

- No, I'm just making small talk.

- No, I actually became a secret agent

in revenge for what happened to my parents, so yeah.

- Oh.

I'm sorry.

Were they murdered?

- No.

No, they divorced.

- I'm really, really sorry to hear that.

- Oh, well.

C'est la vie.

It's funny, I've never told anyone that before.

I just feel like I can tell you anything, you know?

- Of course.

You can tell me everything.

- Yeah.

(taser crackling) (Monica groans)

Fucking hell.

(Monica groans)

- Vlad?

Hello, it's me.

Abacus is now active.

I will terminate them all.

(dramatic music)

There you go.

- Ah.

Don't mind if I ding-dang-do.

Thank you muchly.

In Austria, we say (speaks in foreign language).

- Oh.

(speaks in foreign language)

(mugs clink)

By God.

That is milky tea, sir.

(Bogohardt chuckles)

It's funny, foreign milk, innit?

Can I just say, Bogohardt, now that we're mates,

don't take Logan's banter too seriously, okay?

I mean, they go on as if I'm boring sometimes,

and I just laugh me head off, you know,

'cause I'm all right.

All right, up here, in the nest.

I got everything I need.

I got my pencils, I got my snacks,

and I can see what you've done now.

You've poisoned me.

(body thuds)

- [Huxley] Logan.

Logan, look.

He's here.

- Yep. - Logan.

- Yep, I can see him.

I can see him.

Yep, I know.

Stop, stop pointing at him.

You're gonna attract attention.

- What?

- Oh, great.

He's noticed you.

He's made you out.

Kid, get out of here.

- Why? - Because a lunatic

with a bomb.

- No.

- Yes. - For real?

A bomb?

- Buddy, work with me here.

- Oh, my gosh. - Buddy, you were in the room

with me when I was discussing the plan.

- Bomb? - Kid, get outta here.

Get out.

- [Huxley] I'm going, I'm going.

- Threat is live.

(thrilling music)

- Oh. (taser crackling)

(Huxley groans)

(body thuds)

- Okay, Klone.

You want this the easy way or the hard way?

(angelic music)

(case creaking)

(Logan grunts) (punch thuds)

(kick thuds) (man groans)

(violin crashes)

(bow clacks) (man groans)

(crowd gasps)

All right, chill out, everyone.

I'm from MI6.

These men are from an evil network.

In that case is a dirty bomb.

Open the case.

Go on.

Open it.

(locks clicking)

Well, it is what looks like a cello.

If it is (Logan coughs softly) a cello, play it.

Play it, music man.

Come on, pick it up. Play it.

Play it.

(elegant cello music)

Wow, ooh.

Holy shitballs.

I did not expect to feel like this right now.

Beautiful sound.

Stop it. Stop it.

You've proved your point.

Very well proved.

And round of applause.

What a performance.

Anyone else here think they were bad guys?

I mean, straight off the bat,

who else would wear sunglasses inside?

- We are the Cataract Society String Quartet.

- Yep, well, yeah, of course, blind people.

That would, well, that's a great answer.

So, musician and a brain box.

- Someone call security!

- Oh, there's no need for that.

It's a simple mistake.

Graham, Monica, do you copy?

Do you copy me?

Do you copy?

(taser crackling (Logan groans)

(body thuds)

- Graham?

Graham, can you hear me?

Yeah.

Okay, situation is you've had a nasty fall,

you can't feel your legs.

you've soiled yourself,

and you're probably gonna die in a minute, I reckon.

So, what we're gonna do is this:

We're gonna turn ourselves over

and, if I'm not mistaken,

you should have some adrenaline in your bum bag, son.

Okay.

(Graham grunts)

Come on.

Come on.

(needle clacks) (Graham yelps)

Logan, Monica, do you copy?

Over.

Logan, Monica, do you copy?

Over!

- Bogohardt, or should I say Abacus?

- Finally, he works it out.

Idiots.

I walked right into your midst,

and, how do you call it, Mr. Logan,

I'm hiding in plain sight?

You know, it was really sad

watching you chasing your own tail,

like itchy-itchy-bum dog.

But your plan is very bullshit.

- Oh, and what about Klone?

- Just a diversion.

- I don't get it, though.

You were the threat to the convention this whole time?

- Mr. Logan, you will never get it.

And now you're going to die.

- Logan.

Logan.

- Any last words, western pigs?

- Yeah.

I got something to say.

You know your balls stink?

- My what?

- Yeah, you have severely stinking bollocks, my friend.

And, sitting where I am right now,

it's getting in my grill, up my nose.

I can taste your balls.

(Bogohardt chuckles)

- Seriously?

For you, this is the last thing you ever want to say?

You're more pathetic than I thought.

- Do not beat yourself up about this, buster.

I know a lot of guys with smelly balls.

Here's what you need to do:

Have yourself a bath or a shower,

and then, when you're done,

dry off your squiddles and then sprinkle on a little talc.

Get those talced up nice.

- Just dust them down.

- Yeah, dusting's good. - Just shut up!

You just try to make me feel bad

because you made shitty, shitty, bullshit plan,

and not realize that I am Abacus!

- You got me.

My plan really did stink.

But you know the only thing that stinks worse?

- What? - Your gonads.

Your balls, eh?

Oh, wow.

- I wash my balls, okay?!

I wash and clean my balls every morning before breakfast!

(Bogohardt sniffing)

I wash my balls, yeah?!

There's nothing wrong,

they don't stink! (gun firing)

(body thuds)

(gun clacking)

- Nice shooting, G-String.

Nice shooting, indeed.

- Ah, it's an absolute pleasure, mate.

(phone rings)

(phone beeps)

- Hello?

Got Logan Mann, ma'am.

- Thank you, Anne.

(Ruth groans)

What the hell is going on out there, Mann?

- Threat neutralized, ma'am.

Abacus is down.

(Ruth sighs)

- Well done, team.

Great.

- That's Mr. Shevchenko on line two.

- Fine. Put him through.

Yes, Mr. Shevchenko, what can we do for you now?

- Hello, everyone.

Is everyone there?

Can you hear me?

- Yes, we can hear you. - Yeah, I can hear you.

- That's right, you gas-buying bitches.

Bogohardt is Abacus.

- Abacus is down.

He's dead.

(Vladimir chuckles)

- You fool.

You stupid fool.

Abacus is not one man, it's many men.

Abacus is everywhere.

Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere, everywhere.

It's a good view from up there, wouldn't you say, Mr. Mann?

- It's all right.

It's not the best view I've ever seen,

but it's perfectly adequate.

It's quite a nice view--

(explosion booms)

(horn honking) (alarm beeping)

Oh, god.

- That's me, bullshit Mann!

It was a double, double, double, double bluff!

Slam dunk in your face.

See, the real fun, it begins now,

and my next move will be more insane

and more scary than this one even was.

Goodnight.

- Well, I think you know

what we're dealing with here, ma'am.

- [Ruth] Yes.

(phone clacks)

- What's going on, Logi Bear?

- Some sick maniac has just blown up a building

for no good reason but to show off.

- But didn't we do that last week in Morocco?

- No, no, no, no, no, no.

That's a completely different explo--

- Why?

- It just is. - We did the exact same thing.

- No, it's not, it really isn't.

You just don't know what's going on.

- But I remember, in Morocco, we did the exact same thing.

- That's irrelevant, it really is.

You're a, inquisitive mind, I like that.

But keep it to yourself, it's--

- Graham, mate, you shat yourself?

- That is affirmative.

- [Monica] Whew.

Mate, that's strong.

(Logan coughs) - I know.

(Logan gags)

It's in my shoes.

(Ruth sighs)

- Ma'am?

- Yes, Anne?

- Do you fancy maybe grabbing a drink?

- No.

- Yes, of course, ma'am.

- Goodnight.

(upbeat rock music)