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OX-2 is in the air.

I repeat, OX-2 is in the air.

-Hostages... where are they?

-Where are they, you asshole?

Approaching target, T minus 30 seconds.

-Affirmative.

It's time to get down, sir.

Two minutes.

Sir, we need to go.

-You go.

Fall back. I said fall back!

Where are they?

I will never tell you.

-Don't make me ask again.

You're never gonna find them.

Go on.

Do it. Do it.

Do it, you want to do it.

Do it.

Firing on order.

Please confirm. Confirm, over.

Hello, boss.

All right? All right?

-Nice to see you, buddy.

-You look great, boss.

-Take it easy with that stuff.

-Yeah, yeah, yeah. Right.

-What have we got in there?

-In the bag here, two mil, boss.

-Two mil?

-Two mil.

-That's good week. -Good week.

-What else?

-Andre here has something to show you.

Honestly, what?

Savo?

-See that, boss.

-Fresh in this mornin', boss.

-They look fresh to you, Andre?

-No, they don't. -No, no.

That's the right answer.

-Maybe that one over there.

-Get serious, would you, mate?

For fuck's sake, this is my business

we're talking about, right?

Clean 'em up!

Fuckin' hose 'em down, do whatever you want.

Just make sure they look good for the whorehouse tomorrow.

Very simple. Do you think you can do that?

-Yeah. -Go on.

-Benny.

Did you get it sorted?

-It's done, guv.

-Lead the way.

All right, all right.

One out of the gate. Come on.

All right, now. Come on.

Come on.

Oh, fuck you.

-I fuckin' warned you.

I told you exactly what would happen

if you kept doing business in my territory, right?

Now you see, the difference between me and you

is that my business wallet is expanding.

Whereas yours, well, your patch is getting smaller.

So, ultimately, you're gonna end up

doing business in my territory. So, you know what?

-What?

-I think it's time you got the fuck out of my city,

that's what.

-Your city? You're fucking 40, you cunt.

-Well, I was. Not anymore.

Now, you do not know how fucking lucky you are

I'm gonna let you live.

You see, I need to send a message

to those ponce pricks that work for you.

Now listen to this very carefully,

you fucking idiot.

The message is,

you sell one gram of cocaine in my territory again,

and I will cut all your fucking heads off

and send them to those closest to you.

Oh, I hope you understand that, mate.

-Prick.

-That'll be the last time you ever do that.

Send him to the red room, will you?

-Major Carver.

-It's good to see you, kid.

You know, one of the guys told me

you were hanging here at the park.

-Yeah, I-- sorry I stopped coming

to the sessions, sir. I was preoccupied.

-Oh, well, forget that.

You know, just don't make a habit of it.

The guys, they were just getting used to you.

What's with the bag?

That's nothing.

-Be straight with me, kid.

Where are you staying?

-I'm in between places right now.

-Well, I've got a spare room at my place.

It's got a cot and some drawers and--

well, it's basic, but it's yours as long as you need it.

And I have some spare shirts. Use anything you like.

-I couldn't do that, sir.

-Oh, yes, you can, and you will.

You know, your old man would have done the same thing

for my little Judy if she needed help.

Besides, I'm--I'm not there much anymore lately.

-With a lady friend, have we, sir?

-No, no. I'm staying at Judy's, you know.

It's, uh, personal stuff. You know, father-daughter stuff.

-Anything I can do?

-What you can do for me is learn how to accept help.

And maybe a shave and a haircut. What do you say?

Come on, let's go and we'll get you a meeting after.

Come on.

-So, I hear you like to play golf, am I right, mate?

-Looks like a good golfer, guv.

Might as well fucking handicap him.

-Fore.

-Jesus.

Cauterize the fucking hand, take him back to the club

and make sure everyone sees him, right?

Fuck.

-Hey, you look a hell of a lot better.

You ready for the meeting?

-I'm as ready as I'll ever be.

-Let's do it.

-Let's do it.

-Hey!

- Come in,. Come on, brother.

Look what I found.

- Hi, sir. - How you doing?

- Been a while. - You all right?

-Let's go, guys, come on.

-Do me a favor-- retire that little prick anyway,

we need to send a message, right?

-It's done. -Okay.

-I'll call Savo.

-And when I came out of the war, Barbara was there.

When we were up to our necks in blood and mud,

she had this knack of steering me away from the--

the bad thoughts and the-- the darkness, you know.

And she--she brought me into the hope.

Sorry, you've-- you've heard all this before.

-It's all right, Harris.

That's the whole point of this, isn't it?

We talk about it. We bring it out in the open

even if we have been through it all before.

-You know, me, Peck and Woody,

we were in the same unit together, you know.

We had a few friends that we lost along the way.

Three of the guys that were with us, they shot themselves.

-Yeah, I came back after a few years of mercenary work.

And as we all know, there's nothing like

mercenary work to fuck you up.

I came very close to

myself a few times.

Anyway, then one day, I walk into a pub,

not this one, it was a real shithole,

and there's old Woody sitting all by himself,

really morose he was.

And he was sitting right beside

a whole line of empty pint glasses.

-Don't forget the shots.

-Yeah, you were a soggy mess, my friend.

Anyway, that's when I realized he needed me;

we all needed each other.

So, I bought this place

and then we hooked up with Carver and Harris,

and here we all are.

The point being is that you don't leave a man behind

even when the war is over and done with.

-You know, these guys, they helped me face the past

because we faced the pain as a unit.

And it's because of these boys over here

that I could become a good father.

-Who the fuck are you?

-Does Nate live here?

-No. Fuck off.

-Are you sure Nate doesn't live here?

-No.

Ground floor, door number three, gray door.

Wait!

- Shots fired at Towers,

shots fired!

Send an armed unit and an ambulance immediately.

The apartment is clear.

Nate is dead.

I'm coming.

-So, now, Mr. Burton,

do you feel like sharing anything with us today?

-Well--

-Yeah, we're here to listen, kid.

Come on.

-Three-seven-two-eight Rifleman Burton,

Warrant Officer, Royal Green Jackets Second Battalion.

I--well,...

I've been having nightmares.

So, they're not nightmares, are they.

They're memories, they're flashbacks,

and they are so fucking real.

I joined up from school, you know, father's footsteps.

Operation Desert Shield, an arcade game.

And Bosnia, that-- that wasn't a game.

Went to Iraq... Afghanistan... Yemen.

You-- you see things, you know, you do things and...

they cut you to the bone.

But you wanna finish the tour, so you bury 'em.

You bury 'em and you think you've conquered them.

But only while you're awake...

...you see things.

And the memories, you know, they're so--it's so clear.

It's so real.

And then, the good memories,

the ones that had nothing to do with the war,

they just get more distant, more faded.

And the next thing you know,

you're sleeping on a cemetery bench

near your dad's grave, trying to work out why it is

every time you close your eyes there's a fucking horror show.

-I think it's time for a pint.

-Yup. -Whose turn is it though?

-Oh, yeah.

-Oh, please.

No, what do you mean, please?

-Give it a rest, camel.

-Get your hands in those pockets.

Come on. No, man. Please. -No, no.

-He never wants a fucking drink ever.

-Well, how did you find the session today?

-I feel a weight was lifted by sharing.

-Yeah, well, it's not a cure, but it's a start.

Things will get better.

-You want another pint?

-No, no, no. I gotta go, kid.

I gotta help my daughter with something.

Here, you take the key, make yourself at home

and I'll check in with you in a couple of days, okay?

-Thank you, Major Carver.

Thank you.

-You bet.

-Oh, hello, salad squeezer.

Oy. We're closed, mate.

-Yeah, well, I'm just here to see your boss.

-Didn't you fucking hear me, mate?

We're closed.

You know, I don't think

I like your manner, buddy.

You know, I used to work a door, but we kept order,

but we were polite.

And you know what else?

-What?

-We used to wear a tie. We presented ourselves properly.

You do know where a tie goes, right?

-'Round your fucking neck.

-You're right.

-Who the fuck are you?

-Are you the owner?

-Yeah.

How the hell did you get in here anyway?

-Oh, it's okay. I showed Marcus my ID.

I'm over 21.

-So, what do you want?

-I just want a little chat with you.

-Chat? About what?

-It seems that there's a local councilor

that you guys are intimidating.

-So, what the fuck has it got to do with you?

-Well, I voted for her.

Call me a concerned senior citizen.

I'm asking you guys politely to stop intimidating her

and maybe be just a little bit more discreet

in the operation you run.

-Operation?

-You guys aren't too subtle in your dealings.

Now, she may not go to the police, but someone will.

-And I suppose that someone would be you?

-Not my style, buddy.

-And what exactly is your style, buddy?

-I'd rather you not have to find out.

-That sounds a little bit like a threat to me.

-Take it the way you want.

But I'm giving you guys the chance

to do the honorable thing here, okay?

So, think on it, buddy.

Yeah, what is it?

-Goram, we got a problem.

Carver.

Sorry I can't get to the phone right now.

-Hey, Carver. I just missed your call.

Can you try me again later? Thanks, bye.

-Buddy, I got your answer for you.

Your answer is no.

-Well, what two-bit piece of shit wants the first swing?

-Whoa! Who are you?

-You're Major Carver's daughter, right?

-Yes, yes, and-- and who are you?

-I'm a friend of your dad's.

-What are you doing here?

-He said I could stay.

-Dad! Dad!

-He's not here.

-Well, where is he?

-I thought he was with you.

-No, he-- he didn't come home last night.

I thought he might have stayed here after his group session.

-Normally he does, but he left.

He said he had to help you with something.

-Who the fuck are you?

-My name is Burton, Carl Burton.

-Yes.

-My dad used to be in the same unit as--

-Burton, yeah.

Your--your dad was in the same unit as mine for a bit.

-Yes.

-Yeah. He talked about him a lot.

Well, I'm worried about my dad. What do I do?

Do I call the police?

-I don't think they can do anything

for the first 24 hours, can they?

-I mean, I have called around all his friends

and he tried to call Peck.

Peck missed the call,

and now Dad's phone goes straight to voice mail.

-Do you know what he meant

when he said help you with something?

-No. Just ring me if you hear anything from him.

-Sure.

-My number is on that.

-Judy.

-Yeah. Thank you.

-Goodbye.

Mrs. Marsh?

-It's Miss. I'm divorced.

I'm Detective Inspector Moore,

and this is my colleague, Detective Collins.

Can we come in, please?

-What's happened?

Oh, my god. Oh, no.

No, no, no, no.

-We promise that we're gonna find out who did this.

We're gonna make them suffer as much as they did your dad.

-Hello?

-Burton.

-Judy.

-It's my dad.

He--

-What is it?

-He was found yesterday afternoon,

dead in a canal.

-What happened?

-He was murdered.

-What can I do to help?

-The police are gonna pay you a visit.

I told them that you are at the apartment and,

um, they want info about his last known movements.

-Yeah, of course.

-And, um, I'll let you know about the funeral.

If that's okay, I mean.

It would be great if you could come.

My dad would really have wanted that.

-Of course I'll be there.

-Burton?

-Yes, Judy?

-Goodbye.

-Bye.

-Mr. Burton?

-Yeah.

-Can we trouble you for a moment of your time?

We understand you were staying here the night he went missing.

-Yeah. I've been staying here.

He was friends with my father. They worked together.

And we bumped into each other a month or so ago

and he recognized me,

started inviting me to the sessions and--

-So, he was helping you out.

Yeah.

He was very kind.

-Well, from what Judy has told us,

her old man goes above and beyond to help out ex-soldiers.

-We want to catch whoever did this, Mr. Burton.

Did he mention any dealings with gangs or--

-Gangs? No.

No, he didn't mention any issues at all.

-Did he mention anything in particular?

-No, he just said, "You stay here, kid.

I'll check in on you in a couple of days."

And told me he would be staying at Judy's.

I wish there was more I could do to help.

-Okay. Look, we'll leave you to it, Mr. Burton.

You know, if there's anything that you can think of,

please, don't hesitate to give us a call.

Thank you, Peck, for putting this on.

Least I can do, Judy.

-Judy. What a beautiful service, love.

-Yeah, you did your dad proud.

Well done, Judy.

-Thank you, gents.

-Anything you need, you let us know, all right?

-I'm gonna pop outside and get some air.

-You do that.

Thank you.

-Thanks.

-I hope they find those bastards,

lock 'em up, and throw away the fucking key.

-Judy, I'm sorry to ask, but this thing

that Major Carver was helping you with, what was it?

It's just that the police asked me

if Carver had any dealings with gangs.

-I'm councilor for this district,

and there's been a significant rise in drug dealing,

as well as violent crime.

Now, I made several police complaints.

Then, not long after, I began getting threats.

I was being intimidated, followed,

sometimes threatened

that if I didn't stop causing problems, then--

-And you told this to your dad?

-Well, yeah. I mean, this gang run most of London now.

-And who runs it?

-His name is Goram.

-What else did you tell your dad?

-Well, there's this spot

that they've been using frequently.

It's a back road off Leyton Avenue.

-Why didn't you tell the police?

-I've been telling them about this stuff for months,

and they don't do anything.

These guys never talk.

Nothing ever leads back to the people who are running things.

I'm gonna go home.

Will you, uh, thank Peck again for me?

-About the flat. I'm--

-Oh, don't worry about that.

You can stay.

Dirty stinking bastards.

-Yeah. Well, I'm sure we'd all be good

to get our hands on the fuckers who did this, eh?

Hey, come and join us.

-What if you could get your hands

on the bastards, sir?

-Do you know something?

-Councilor Judy has been having trouble

with some low-level street scum run by a man called Mr. Goram.

They threatened her.

I believe that Major Carver tried to intervene.

But I know where this scum operate.

-Oh, do you now? So, what are you suggesting, eh?

-Listen, I might not be the brightest spark

on our planet, but I know what he's suggesting.

-I'm just saying that Major Carver

was very good to me.

He works with all of you.

And what happened to him isn't right.

-No, it wasn't.

-And the police aren't gonna make it right, sir.

They're either bent or too scared to do anything.

No witness has ever come forward,

so I'm gonna do a reconnaissance.

I'm gonna find out who the big names are in this game

that ordered his hit and I'm gonna engage.

And I'll do it alone, but I'm looking for volunteers.

-Ha!

-Calm down, son, calm down.

You don't know what you're letting yourself in for.

This new lot that are running the streets,

they're fucking ruthless.

-Yeah, well, they may be ruthless,

but they've not dealt with us, have they, eh?

The Magnificent Three?

Four? No, I'm in.

-What are you, fucking crazy?

It's a fucking suicide mission.

-Harris.

Every time I eat a fucking pork pie,

that's a suicide mission. I'm in.

-There's nothing wrong with the pork pies.

-Fine, fine.

Okay, you wanna go out in a blaze of fucking glory?

I'm not staying here on me own for the next meeting.

I'm in.

-So, we reconvene here tomorrow and check our weaponry.

-Done.

-Okay.

I'm not sure what I've got...

-Right.

-A couple pigs in to see you.

All right.

-Morning, Goram.

-What do you need, love?

-We were wondering if you had some time

to come and speak to us at the station.

-Oh, well, there's absolutely no fucking chance

that's happening, right?

But if you wanna talk right here, I'm fine with that.

I'm assuming it's about the old guy that got murdered,

am I right? -So you know about that?

Do I know about it?

Well, it's all over the fucking news, isn't it?

Let's have a look here.

"Local war hero murdered."

Yup, it's right here. Fucking tell you something else.

Breaks my fucking heart, it does.

-Where were you on Monday night

between 11:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m.?

-Monday night? Fuck, where were--

-We were at cards, guv.

-No, we went to the fucking-- now, wait a minute.

Monday we went to see me mother, didn't we?

-No, we were. Beat ya.

-It was cards.

It was cards, and you fucking beat me.

Yes, four or five of us actually.

Witnesses, video recordings, the whole nine yards,

to be honest. -We'd expect nothing less.

-Yeah, well, in that case,

what the fuck are you doing here?

-We thought we'd drop in on you,

just so you know we're thinking of you.

-Oh, wow, how touching. You know, maybe next time

you can shoot off a fucking email,

save yourself a little travel time.

Unless, of course, you wanna come alone,

and that's an entirely different story, that is.

-In your dreams.

-Yeah, right?

-We'll be on our way.

-See you, Goram.

-Oh, and be sure to send those witnesses in

to make their statements...

and bring the video footage in.

Time stamped would be nice.

-You fucking pigs.

Get 'em out of my fucking building.

-It's done.

-Afternoon, gentlemen.

-We've been waiting for you two guys

to come in and show you the goods before the big reveal.

-I can hardly contain my excitement.

Mr. Burton, good to see you. -Sir.

So, obviously Her Majesty's government,

Glock 17, 15, couple of smoke grenades,

first grenade in the bag.

-Okay, for a start, here's mine.

-So, Harris, you wanna go next?

-Age before beauty, my friend.

-You saucy sod.

The most dangerous thing I could find in my shed was these.

Oh, Christ, Woody!

-What the fuck is that?

-They're shears.

-Back in the old day,

we used to call you Captain Ahab.

What are we gonna call you now?

- Well, if that impressed you, um,

what do you make of this?

-Is that a fishing reel?

-Of course.

A very dangerous weapon in my hands.

-If you're a fish.

-Christ, Woody, what are you going for?

Moby Dick?

-Well, I've got something far more impressive.

-Well, that's marginally better, I suppose.

-And in my hands, better than an AK-47.

-Is that an harpoon?

-Harpoon?

It's a fucking crossbow, you donut.

-What have you brought, Harris?

-Ah. Well, I have brought to the table, gentlemen...

this.

And what's this?

Blow the fucking place up.

I have got...

there's this. My piece de résistance...

Is that a live Claymore?

It certainly is.

-Fuck me, Harris.

You'd blow the arse out of London with that.

-That is the idea, Woody.

-So, this is our collective arsenal.

-Not exactly the Wild Geese, are we?

-If anybody wants to pull out of this operation,

then now's the time to speak.

-No, no, no. We're still with you.

We'll stick this through to the end.

-I'm in.

-Harris?

-Well, to be honest, Burton...

I can't wait to blow something up.

-Looks like some sort of exchange going on.

-So what do you reckon?

You think Carver came here?

-Yes, I do, and so do the police.

-We wanna be in there, don't we?

-You know, it occurs to me we could use some intel.

Yeah. I think it's about time we visited Sanchez.

-Who's Sanchez?

-Sanchez.

Ah, Sanchez, always the font of all knowledge

when it comes to London gangs.

He knows them all:

good, the bad, and fucking ugly, too.

-Right. Well, you go and see Sanchez.

Harris, do you fancy a drink?

-Sure.

-We'll pop in there.

You got your phone on you?

Yeah.

-Do you know how it works?

-You bein' funny?

-Want you to take a couple of pictures of

in there, send 'em to you,

see if Sanchez makes any of 'em.

-Yeah, okay.

Oh, congratulations, Woody, you got the evening off.

-That's perfect, Peck.

Bake Off 's on the box tonight.

And I need to catch up, I'm addicted.

-That's good. There's no point you coming anyway

'cause you always argue with Sanchez.

-Can you give me a lift?

-Yes, I suppose I could.

Well, jolly good good luck, chaps.

-Evening, squire.

The atmosphere in here...

fuckin' hell.

-Over your shoulder, on your six,

I think he's the one in charge.

-We've had to break rule.

-Do you think we need to worry about Carver's old

military veteran's facility?

I mean, they're ex-military, aren't they?

-No, they're old.

I don't think they're stupid enough to mess with Goram.

-I think it's time for a selfie then, don't you?

A selfie, you know.

Would you--

there you are, look.

Press that button there.

-No that's not a selfie. A selfie is when you--

-Look, just take the fucking picture, all right?

Get me good side.

-Alright, one down.

You send that to Peck and see if his mate recognizes any of 'em.

-Hello, Peck. Long time no see.

-Hello, Gracie.

Sanchez in a receptive mood I hope?

-As always.

-This place is pretty fucking done,

so let's make our exit.

Time for your bedtime, I think.

-Fuck off.

-Sanchez, my old mate. How are you?

- Hey!

What, are you lost, old man?

What are you doing on this side of town?

-Well, you know me. I always like living dangerously.

Yeah, I heard that.

Hey, I'm sorry to hear about Carver.

He was a... he was a good man, Peck.

-Yes, he was.

-Yeah, come on, sit down. Have a drink.

- Okay, salud .

-Well, this relates to Carver, actually.

There's a crap-looking bar over on Hardy Road

and this guy's inside.

What can you tell us?

-That's one of Goram's three henchmen.

Together they call themselves The Four Horsemen.

Anything that Goram wants, he just takes,

and he doesn't mind getting his hands dirty.

-Oh, now you're not going to go weird on me,

are you, Sanchez, eh?

We're not stumbling into something biblical here, are we?

-No.

It's because of their street reputation.

Everywhere they go, death follows.

They're part of a crime syndicate

running through Europe.

-Everything, it's yours.

What about the vig?

-They took the city by force.

You understand what that means, motherfucker?

The vig?

That's the tax.

They own a brothel trafficking girls,

use them to cut and handle all the drugs,

turn them into prostitutes.

-They sound adorb.

-They're scum, lowest kind.

Look, I'm no angel, but, uh, you know there's always been

some kind of honor amongst thieves

'til these motherfuckers showed up.

Cops can't do a damn thing.

Old-school gangsters had to step aside.

I have to wash money for 'em.

-Oh, Jesus, mate.

-I can't help it, homes. They're ruthless.

Why the interest?

-Because these are the bastards that killed Carver.

-Peck, if you're going up against them,

you better be prepared.

-Ha! They won't know what hit 'em.

And me and the boys are bringing the bad band together.

-You're like, renegades?

-What? No... yeah.

Hey, you wanna join in?

-My knees are shot. I can barely walk.

My lenses on the glasses are as big as a Hubble telescope.

-And I pee five times a night, what can I tell you?

- No. I'll give you information,

but I got to sit this one out.

I, uh... I've got a young family.

-I understand, mate.

-Do me one favor, Peck.

Kill the motherfuckers.

-We'll go over this one last time.

Harris, you are our inside man.

We let him settle.

Woody, you cause a distraction.

I engage from the back, Peck from the front.

We go in hard, and fast, and hit them

before they know what's fucking happening.

-You ready, Harris?

-I was born ready, Woody.

-Now that is what I call a fucking improvement.

-This from Quasimodo here.

- the bell.

-Nice decor. Just like the mother-in-law's.

-Twenty quid for a half hour.

-Don't start the timer until I'm in the room, all right?

I wanna get me money's worth.

-What kind of woman you want?

-I dunno. Dark hair, big tits.

She'll do.

-Come on.

Got a half hour.

I'll be outside.

-Relax, love. Not tonight.

-Quick, check the front. I'll check the back.

-Warehouse. Location.

-You're dead. You're all dead.

-You are gonna tell me.

-Fuck you!

-Um, you really need to work on

your interrogation technique, I think.

-I'll work on that, sir.

-You didn't get the location of the warehouse?

-No, we'll have to get it when we hit the bar.

-Oh, fuck.

We're not gonna have time to rifle through

this place for info, are we?

-The longer this goes on,

we're gonna get rumbled by the police.

-I know where the warehouse is.

-Where is it?

-Um, Mercen Street, Unit 5.

I remember when they brought us here from the warehouse.

-Good girl. We need you to do something.

Police are coming. Don't tell them where we are,

go back to your room, play dumb, okay?

-Okay. Wait, does this have anything to do with

the war hero that got killed?

Because I heard the guy who ordered the hit talk about it.

-Who?

Goram.

Yeah, what is it?

Savo, the fuck's going on?

Fucking Goram.

The man's a savage.

No sense of honor, no code.

-Oh, we can teach him a fucking code.

-There's cameras all over this place.

-And you know they're all going to a remote server

that only one person has access to.

-Yep, and he's not gonna hand it over to us.

Did the girls say anything?

-Well, two of them are still off their tits on smack.

One of them hid,

said she heard gunshots but didn't see anything.

They're all here illegally.

I'll have someone from immigration take care of 'em.

-Okay, good.

-What do you think? Gang hit?

Another turf war?

-D'you know anyone ballsy enough to pull this off?

-Only you, mum.

And me and you were on duty together,

so you can rule that one out.

- No.

I can't see this being a rival we know about.

-I'm gonna lock the front doors.

-All right. Ah, it'll be one of those drunks.

Just tell him to fuck off.

-Fuck off, old chap.

It's been a long day, you know what I mean?

Fuckin' hell, I need you, don't I?

Oy, silly bollocks.

Do you know who fuckin' owns this place, eh?

Fuckin'--

Here you go, chump.

Tell him what's going on.

Yeah, what is it?

-I got hit, boss.

-Fucking what?

What's going on? Talk to me.

-What is this, sunshine?

-They got the ledger, boss.

If you can see 'em,

shoot 'em!

Okay? Fucking kill 'em!

-Savo!

You're a fucking joke.

-Souvenir, eh? -Mm-hmm.

-Oh, Christ's sake, Woody.

What did you bring this thing for?

How the fuck did you think that I cut through the wires?

-That old prick I whacked the other day.

-What about him? Fucking anything at all?

When you fucking killed him, did he say anything?

-He was pissing out blood, but something about

woman from the council being good friends.

-Is that right? -Yeah.

-Councilwoman, all right. Now get the boys together

and follow this fucking councilwoman around.

If they're seen talking to any of these geriatrics,

give me a call.

We need to know who they are, right?

-I'm on it.

-And listen to me. They have the fucking ledger.

You of all people know what that fucking means, right?

We need it back at all costs.

I don't care how many people you kill.

I don't care if you tear the city apart brick by brick.

Get the fucking ledger back, right?

-I get it.

-Go fucking get it.

-This isn't good, Moore.

We have two dead criminals, both known associates of Goram.

-Two of the four Horsemen dead now.

-What? Horsemen? Who comes up with this nonsense?

This case is becoming a thorn in my side.

-We're actively investigating, mum.

-No one here will shed any tears over these animals.

Frankly, whoever's cleaning house on these streets

is doing the world a favor.

My gut says that this doesn't seem to be

the power play of a rival gang.

-So, you think something personal?

-Maybe.

Any leads?

-Nothing solid.

Our only potential suspects on that front are unlikely.

It's a stretch-- Carver's ex-military pals.

They're more of a threat to the local bulls club

than the gangs.

-A bunch of geriatric vigilantes?

Are you clutching at straws?

-It's difficult.

-Ex-military...

that could come up with blocks

on a background check above our clearance.

Didn't you date some ex-CIA spook once,

Agent Donovan, was it?

Could he get intel?

-Look, I'd rather not dig up the past.

-What do you think, too much?

-It's a drunk fisherman that we need to talk to.

-I'll take a Glock in case he falls in the water.

-Oh, do it for the greater good,

for queen and country.

-Okay.

-What exactly does Donovan do?

I mean, if he helps, it must all be aboveboard.

-Well, he can't get the intel through legitimate channels.

His day-to-day is breaking up human trafficking rings.

But let's just say that part's not always by the book.

-Fuck.

-Hands behind your head.

Get out here.

-Someone needs to put the trash out in this city.

-Why are you watching her? Ey?

-Piss off, you old boiled sweet eating fucker!

That's pretty funny.

Boiled sweet, that's really--

-Now.

You are gonna go back to those wankers that you work for.

You're gonna tell them

that their days are fucking numbered.

-Okay, okay.

-Burton, what's up?

-Something's happened.

-What?

-You might wanna spend a few days at your dad's place.

-This is insane.

-You get packed. I'll explain.

You lot are a bunch of fools!

You better give me one good reason

why I shouldn't go to the police right now.

- Hello? - Detective Inspector Moore.

-Donovan, what have you got for me?

-Anne, I'm going out on a limb for you.

This is highly classified.

-I appreciate it.

So, what am I dealing with?

-These guys have seen a lot of action.

Peck, Harris, Woodward, they all served together

in the late '60s, did tours in Ireland and the Falklands.

Before that, they did some black operations in Europe.

Later on, they were doing mercenary work.

-Christ. So, they're hardcore.

-Well, they were.

At this age,

I don't know how much fight they still have in them.

And I can't say if they're the ones picking off your gangsters.

But there was a time

that this was a typical day for these guys.

-So, what can you tell me about Burton?

-Burton's old man served with Carver in Vietnam

and again, special operations across the world.

I guess the apple don't fall far from the tree.

Burton Jr., he had tours in Iraq, Afghanistan and Bosnia,

and several unclassified missions.

His last outing Bosnia was a total shit show.

The mission went to hell, extraction was withdrawn.

He was the only one to get out.

Kind of fell off the grid since then.

-So, Burton has the capacity to pull this off?

-Burton alone, no. These old guys alone, no.

But together, maybe. And you know what?

If these are the guys,

good luck to these crazy old bastards.

-You see here, this is all shipping information

and dates and details.

But here, these are all payments made

to politicians and bent coppers.

-Christ, how do you make sense of all this?

I can't make heads or tail of it.

-You'll have to ask the code breaker over there.

-Who, Harris?

-I like a good puzzle.

-Sudoku's one thing.

Hey, Harris, this is impressive.

-I'm full of surprises, aren't I?

-Thanks, Donovan.

It's really been a help.

-Annie, you want my advice?

-Okay.

-Stay out of the crossfire.

These guys want to clean house?

Let 'em flush the turds, save the city some money.

That's just my personal standpoint,

off the record, of course.

-But of course.

-Take care.

Anne, I'd like to take you dinner next time I'm in London.

You know I'd like to see you.

-Always the optimist.

-Peck, and you're right. I don't like the warehouse.

It's too large, too many unknowns with the interior.

-Yeah, we need to funnel them in someplace,

somewhere we know.

-Suggestions?

-Ta-da. Here.

-Oh, man. You gotta be joking.

-Are you sure?

-Gents, it's just a building.

-Yeah, but it's my local.

-I own it.

Come on! Look, we know the place inside and out.

Tactically, it's the logical choice.

-Right, so we still hit the warehouse,

put on a few surprises,

really stoke up the hornets' nest,

and draw Goram out to find us.

-Yes. He won't come alone.

-I don't doubt it. But you can put word out

through your friend Sanchez about our whereabouts.

-Yeah, I guess I could. Yeah, I'll give him a call,

see if I can get him to bait the hook, eh?

-If that's all sorted,

I think we should have another drink, don't you?

-Yeah.

Come on, you know where the glasses are.

-Is this ever gonna end?

I don't agree with what you're doing.

-You do agree that Goram is evil. Don't you?

When we were on operations, a warlord behaved like him,

we'd do something about it.

Come home, see worse, and you expect us to do nothing?

When it's done, and he's gone,

I'll go, if that's what you want.

Thank you.

Hey.

-Fry 'em!

Loves that bloody crossbow, doesn't he?

-All right, it's all set.

-Hey.

-Sanchez, old boy.

-Hey, Peck.

Enough of that old guy stuff, huh.

I was just gonna call you.

-Oh, yeah? What's up?

-Goram has the whole of London looking for you guys.

-Tempted to turn us in, are you?

-No. Bastard wouldn't even offer a reward, so you're safe.

- Well, as it happens, we want you to stitch us up.

-What are you, crazy?

-We're laying a trap, okay?

Specifically, get the word out to Goram.

We want you to reveal the location of the Legion.

But listen, keep yourself clean, mate.

You know, don't go around to Goram yourself with this.

-Yeah, I'll get it out.

I got the right guy to do it.

And don't worry, I'll be sure it won't come back to me.

-Guv.

-Yeah, what is it?

-You got a phone call.

He says you're definitely gonna want to talk to him.

-Who is it?

-Apollo Jackson.

-Yeah, put it through, and get the fuck out.

-One more thing. We got eyes on the woman.

Do you want me to get her lifted?

-Yeah, make it happen.

-Apollo, to what do I owe the pleasure?

-I hear you looking for some information

about a group of old men that tore your ass up.

-Yeah, nothing we can't handle ourselves.

I got a tip

that the group was some old war vets

who hang around at the bar on Norton Road.

I looked into the owner.

Peck's ex-military, special ops.

-Don't you worry about it, okay?

-I hear things. You wanna know what I hear?

-What do you hear? Tell me.

I understand

you killed a vet called Carver.

-The old fellow, he was looking for fucking trouble.

-You brought this shit to your door.

So, you better finish.

-Do you have any idea who you're talking to?

You're a small-time

...bitch! Don't you ever forget that.

You work for my association.

You let your ego blind you, fool,

you hear what I'm sayin'?

All them old soldiers,

they have crippled your organization.

Kill them.

-Nothing we can't take care of.

Time is running out.

Do you hear what I'm saying?

Tick-tock, motherfucker.

If you don't clean this mess up,

you gonna retire early.

Do you understand that?

Sleep with your lights on. You done pissed me off.

-Yakveni!

-What the fuck did he want?

-Gave me a little intel.

Filled me in on where these geriatrics are at, so.

Gather the boys, let's get ready for war.

-No! No!

No! Help me! Help!

-Approaching target,

T minus 30 seconds.

OX-2 firing.

Fire!

Everything is set.

We are prepared.

-So, how are we feeling, chaps, eh?

-I'm okay.

-When I was younger, about 25, I couldn't give a monkey's fuck

if I got killed in the crossfire of a firefight.

But now I'm a little bit older,

I've decided I'd like to see this one through

right to the end.

-Think we all would, matey.

Think we all would.

Why are you smiling?

-Because this is the only thing I'm any fucking good at.

-Well, I think a toast is called for

while we still can, yeah?

Calm before the storm.

-To Carver.

-To Carver.

-Certainly drink to that.

-You and me take the rear.

You four at the front, go!

-Okay, we're on. Company incoming,

and they ain't looking pretty, especially your one.

Right!

Positions.

And try not to get shot.

-Got you.

Hey! You soppy prick.

That's our best scotch!

Down, Woody!

Eat this.

Back, back, back, back!

-Fuck it!

-Shots fired at the Legion. Units are seven minutes away.

-We're not far. Let's go.

-What's your name, you old bastard!

- Oh, fuck! Fuck!

-All right.

I want that fucking ledger back, Burton.

-How about you eat your bullet?

-No.

How about I blow her head clean off her fucking shoulders, mate?

Oh, go on, take the shot. Do it.

-Don't you fucking tempt me.

-Actually, how about you give me the fucking ledger

and your life--

-How about bollocks?

-Drop the fucking gun or I'll do it, mate,

I'll fucking do it.

There you go. Yeah.

There you go.

-The fuck!

-Police! Hands above your head.

Don't even think about it.

What the fuck did you do?

Get the.

-I want you to know,

neither one of us is getting out alive, all right?

-Shut up and fight me.

-By the way, you met Lurch?

Come on.

Come on.

-Run!

-Come on!

Moby--

Dick!

-We'll be hearing about this

for the rest of our fucking lives.

-And he's dead.

Legion's just up ahead. What do you wanna do?

-ETA backup on Norton Road.

-Fuck.

- Oh, Burton! Oh!

Judy, you all right?

-Is it over? Is it over?

-Yeah, yeah. It's definitely over.

-Fucking hell, he's dead, too.

Now that's what I call a coincidence.

We were just about to call you.

-Oh, were you now?

-Of course we were, officer.

-Okay, chaps, I suppose you can explain all this?

-Yes. Well, they were armed, and they broke in.

I don't know what gave the idea

there was anything valuable in here.

-And you don't know who they are

or the fact they work for Goram?

-Goram? Who's Goram?

-Well, they broke in

and we were forced to defend ourselves.

-With weapons at hand?

-Oh, well, you see, I'm very sentimental, officer,

and I like to have them on display.

Bloody lucky I do, too, otherwise we'd be toast.

Wouldn't we, fellows?

-Very lucky.

-Oh, one of them dropped this.

-They dropped a ledger?

And what's this?

-The keys to the code, love.

-During a break in and shoot out,

you guys had time to crack a code?

-Yeah.

I mean, we are full of surprises.

-Well, there's an ambulance en route.

I suggest you guys get seen to.

-What about the guns?

-Do you mind if we look around?

-Be my guest. Just don't break anything.

-A final toast to Major Carver.

-I think that's great of you.

Thank you.

-To Carver. -To Carver.

-Oh, excuse me, lads.

-Hey, Peck!

-Sanchez.

-I thought I'd call you and tell you

that you did one hell of a job.

-I couldn't have done it without you, Sanchez,

so thank you.

-Yeah, anytime, homes. Hey, you know what?

I just wish I could have been there to see it.

-Ha! Well, maybe next time, eh.

If there is a next time.

-Well, old friend, it's funny you say that.

A friend of mine is on his way to see you right now.

-Oh yes, a friend?

-You'll see, Peck. Later!

-Sorry, we're closed.

-I'm not here for a drink.

Now, you're Peck.

You're Mr. Woody, Mr. Burton, Mr. Harris,

and I assume the lady is late Mr. Carver's daughter.

And Detective Moore.

-Don't pull it again.

-I got a funny feeling that we've got a mutual friend.

Could we have a name, please?

-My name is Palmer.

-Palmer, what agency do you work for?

-I'm not at liberty to divulge my employers.

But needless to say,

they've taken a very serious interest

in the sudden end of Anthony Goram's criminal empire.

We'd like to hire your services.

Okay, look, chum.

I do wedding receptions and the occasional.

-I wouldn't be so coy, Mr. Peck.

We know all about you.

Don't worry about repercussions over Goram.

You did the city a favor.

-Do we get a choice in this?

-Of course. We're all on the good side here.

Read the files.

If you want the assignment, let me know.

But you're our first choice.

I'll call for an answer tomorrow.

This does worry me.

I mean, where has it been?

-I think I know where he brought that into the country.

-Good job it wasn't the fucking ledger.

Hey, boss.

-Apollo.

-I got some bad news, man.

Goram, he fell.

All the Horsemen, they dead.

The whole operation crumbled.

We need to take back the fifth

and eliminate our enemies.

I'll be in contact with the local mercenaries.

They'll be waiting for you.

-Fucking renegades.