Original subtitles

- Can you tuck this away for me? - That's not my problem.

I'll be sure and pass that message along.

If you think we're just useful serving tea,

you might be missing your chance to win this war.

Better kick it up to the Big Lad.

[Dolours] That would be Gerry Adams.

[electrician] There's a new face at Palace Barracks.

Brigadier Frank Kitson.

Everything stops until we locate The Dark.

Come on out, Brendan!

[Brendan] They knew my face! They knew my name!

Somebody fucking talked!

♪ Talkin' of tomorrow ♪

♪ And the money, love and time we had to spend ♪

♪ Lovin' her was easier ♪

♪ Than anything I've had to do before ♪

- [Marian] You know this song. - I bet he fucking doesn't.

- Who's this? - You said it before, Joe.

- Did I? - You said it

close on three times, Joe, ya buck eejit.

- Gordon Lightfoot. - No!

- It's not Gordon Lightfoot? - No!

- [both] Kris Kristofferson! - Oh!

Right. Here, who wants a wee cracker?

No, and you may stop spilling them crumbs in this car, Joe.

Right. This is us here, coming up.

[Dolours] I remember Joe was the one

who took me on my first border run.

See, the plan was simple.

Head south into the Borderlands.

Stuff the car with as many explosives as you can.

Then smuggle it back to Belfast

without getting lifted or shot.

Now, when I turn the key, it won't, um...

The heat from the engine, it's gonna be alright, like?

What d'you reckon, Peadar?

Will the girls make it out of this alive or what?

In my experience,

you'll be grand.

So, how many explosives were you carrying that day?

Not much. 200 pounds.

About a car bomb's worth.

We'd gone down south to meet Brendan.

We were taking over his route

now that he was out of commission.

Gerry.

We gonna find this loose-lipped cunt

who tipped me off to the Brits?

We'll find the leak.

Honestly, that's not my top priority right now.

What the fuck are you talking about?

The question that we need to be asking ourselves

is how we run an army when we can't trust our own men.

[knock at door]

[Dolours] Gerry! We're all packed up.

Keep this under your hat for now. Okay?

Okay.

Come in, child.

- Gerry. - Youse all set?

- Big shoes to fill, now. - Aye. Size sevens.

- You're a cheeky wee bitch! - Mm.

Good luck, child. Mind the roads.

So, what's our cover story?

Uh, well... we should be sisters.

And Joe could be our chronically underappreciated single friend,

who, despite being unlucky in love,

constantly finds himself being surrounded by beautiful women.

It's supposed to be fiction, though, Dolours.

Besides, look, you can't be sisters,

because we're using these ones today.

Here, coming up.

- Just don't be a weirdo, Dotes. - I know what I'm doing.

Please relax, alright? It's gonna be absolutely fine.

How's about ye?

I like your hair.

Eh? Nah, it's mucky.

Needs washing.

Suits your coloring.

I like yours an' all.

You don't think it's too short?

I like short hair on a girl.

Where you headed?

Uh, we're just coming back from a picnic.

Nice weather for it, Miss...

Rosie.

If you ever find yourself in Belfast, look me up.

I'll take you out for a drink at the Pink Iguana.

We're gonna need you three to step out of the car.

He's gonna feel the weight in the door.

Yeah, hang on a wee minute, mate.

I really think these three are fine.

- Jesus Christ, Dotes! - What?

You opened your legs so far,

he could see your future children.

Uh, you're welcome!

Listen, see, the next time,

just look 'em straight in the eye.

- Jesus! - Look 'em in the eye,

and they'll wave you right on through.

Aye.

- Oh, fuck! - You're grand.

[explosion]

[sirens wailing]

[indistinct]

[Dolours] The IRA planted 150 bombs in 1970.

By 1972,

they'd planted a thousand.

Now, I wasn't setting them just yet.

My job was to drive the gear over the border.

You think they meant to hit the grocer?

No, I think they meant to hit the barracks.

Well, they missed.

The goal was to kill

as many soldiers, as many policemen as possible.

We might be trying to hit the police luncheon

and hit the bingo ladies instead.

1972.

Yes, that was the most violent year.

[chanting and praying]

Gerry used to tell us

every death was pushing us closer to winning the war.

And I believed him.

By now, Gerry was running all of West Belfast.

You alright, son?

Which meant he was the most wanted man in Ireland.

He had a lookout on every corner

and he never slept in the same house twice.

Well, except when he was visiting his wife.

[♪ music playing softly]

Easy there.

I can stay the night this time.

I want you on the bed,

facing up.

[muffled screams]

[rapid footsteps]

Gerry! Gerry, someone's here.

Someone's here!

Get on the fucking floor! Get down!

- Move! - Get down!

- Stay there! - Don't fucking move!

You're not dragging him off to the Gulag in his jammies!

[door opens]

Hello.

- Mr. Adams. - Mr. Adams.

Before we get started, we understand

your family's had a rough go of it, yeah?

Your mother lost her house last year during internment.

- And how many children? - 13.

No. Three born dead, I believe.

Oh, aye, that's right.

We thought you might be interested in discussing

some kind of arrangement, for the future.

Aye, for the future of your family.

I'm not Gerry Adams.

Sorry?

There's been a mistake. My name is Joe McGuigan.

McGuigan?

- Who the fuck is Joe McGuigan? - That's me.

- Gerry... - No.

Joe.

My name is Joe.

I'm not Gerry Adams.

Look, I'm not Gerry... I'm not Gerry Adams.

I'm not Gerry Adams.

I'm not Gerry Adams.

I'm not Gerry Adams.

I'm not Gerry Adams.

- Pick him up! - I'm not Gerry Adams.

And we're definitely sure it's him?

- I'm not Gerry Adams. - It's absolutely fucking him.

Now, Mr. Adams, can we start with your name, please?

Then we'll move on to members of the leadership.

McGuigan.

The man's a fucking lunatic.

He's never gonna give up the leadership.

He cares fuck all about the money.

You say use the carrot, we used the carrot.

You say try the stick, sir, we tried the fucking stick!

Well, have you tried letting him win?

Mr. McGuigan, how are you?

Can you help him, please?

I would like to lodge a formal complaint.

Yes, we'll get to that, but first...

there's been a terrible misunderstanding.

We were under this assumption that you, Mr. McGuigan,

were noted terrorist Gerry Adams.

I sincerely apologize for that.

I will make sure that you are interned

under your proper name, Joseph McGuigan.

Any of the McGuigan family will be welcome to visit you

of course.

Those individuals, however, associated with Gerry Adams,

his wife perhaps, Colette McArdle,

will have no business visiting Mr. McGuigan

and will not be allowed to see you, of course,

for the duration of your internment, which...

Safe to assume it will be many years.

Gentlemen, sorry to trouble you. We're holding for one moment.

[Kitson] Is this a fucking wind-up?

I checked the Telex three times.

Read me the message again.

"11:43 a.m. British Home Office.

Prisoner Gerry Adams to be released for negotiations."

[engine starts]

[Marian] Go, go, go!

[Dolours] So, Whitelaw met with the SDLP

and they said they thought the IRA might come to the table

if you were released.

[Gerry] Whitelaw?

Have some juice.

Ger, point is, the Brits are at their breaking point

and they're ready to make a deal.

What kind of deal?

A deal-deal. They want to meet with the leadership.

And, Mar, tell him what the leadership said.

They banged their fists on the table.

Banged their fists on the table and said,

"No negotiations without Gerry Adams."

And the Brits said okay, Gerry!

You fly to London tomorrow for peace talks.

They're gonna fucking negotiate. There's to be a ceasefire.

Does that mean we're winning?

[kid mimicking shooting noises]

[horn beeping]

Ceasefire!

Ceasefire!

Ceasefire!

[on radio] The gunfire in the city

is steadily declining throughout the day.

The IRA has sworn to make good on its promise

to uphold the ceasefire

which is set to begin at noon today...

Ma, the shooting's stopped.

How long the truce is intended to last,

but the news should be a relief

to British security forces...

[Tucker] Does that mean we can go outside?

So, are we all gonna fall in love now that it's peacetime?

No! People get married during war.

With peace they take their time.

Or get divorced.

Joe's in love.

- Dolours! - Sorry, I'm excited.

- With who? - With whom?

With Rachel. Oh, she's lovely.

They memorize poems for each other an' all.

Aye, she's very literary, you know.

- Have you shifted her yet, Joe? - Nah, Joe doesn't shift nobody.

He just jags off to the look of them.

Ah, no, when I like a girl,

I just pull her onto the hip

and give her a wee pinch on the waist.

That's how you get a slap in the fucking face.

Even better.

How do you flirt, Marian?

I don't, and I'll not lob the gob with any of youse

so don't get your hopes up.

Another wee monk, just like Joe.

Joe's a catch. He's sensitive.

- Is that attractive? - And he's worldly

and you're just jealous that Joe's in love and you're not.

In love with Rachel!

The mysterious Rachel who nobody knows.

I'm meeting her tonight at the Pink Iguana.

- I wanted to take her dancing. - Dancing!

- Can we come, Joe? - Yeah, can we come, Joe?

When youse grow up, youse can come dancing with me.

Think you're gonna like her.

- Are you nervous? - No.

Just focus on making her laugh, Joe.

You don't need to win her over in one night.

Yeah. Don't be getting grease on my good suit now.

- [Dolours laughs] - Honestly!

[♪ pop song playing]

She's not coming.

Most fashionable women are late. Rachel's just taking her time.

- The place closes in an hour. - Right. Well, fuck Rachel.

You know?

Look. There's a lovely wee woman over there.

- Sorry, chaps. - Fuck off!

Brits out, mate. You got to get out.

Rosie? Hey, Rosie!

Hey, love.

Hiya!

Isn't that your friend from the border?

Fuck.

[♪ soulful pop song playing]

So, why'd you recommend this place?

The drinks.

We like the drinks, yeah.

- Seems friendly. - Yeah.

Maybe I wasn't, you know, thinking...

I didn't actually think you'd come.

- Ah, it's alright. - Wee joke.

I like it.

Uh, so, you ship out tomorrow, then?

[Joe] Excuse me.

- He alright? - Yeah. Don't mind him.

He just hates imperialists.

Hey, well...

I'm not an imperialist, I'm a peacekeeper.

Is that what they tell you, yeah?

Someone's got to stand up for the people what live here.

The people?

You think you represent the people?

The majority of 'em. I do, aye.

Aye, well...

anyone can be the majority.

It just depends how you draw the line.

Am I making you uncomfortable?

No.

Honestly, it's just...

nice to sit here with a smart, pretty girl

and just chat.

What are you doing?

Wanna dance?

Um... let's go outside.

Come on.

- Do you want my jacket? - No.

It's my punishment for acting like a stupid girl.

Just take it. You're freezing.

So, how long do you think the ceasefire will last, then?

I've no idea. Why?

Just thinking, war could be over by Christmas, couldn't it?

It could.

It'd be nice to come back here, like,

take you out for a proper drink.

Sounds terrifying.

Why are you looking at me like that?

Your shoelace is untied.

You gonna come back up?

Don't know if I should.

We could go somewhere.

Only if you wanted to, like. No expectation, I just...

I have a room.

I should go inside.

[♪ rock music playing]

Hey.

Sorry. You alright?

You women complain about men not respecting you

when you're the ones who lack any kind of self-respect,

throwing yourselves at whichever moron's in front of your nose.

Okay, Joe.

If your da could have seen you tonight,

he'd have spat in your face.

- Right. Well, I'm gonna go. - Sorry, I didn't mean it.

- I can't... - I wrote her a letter!

Joe!

Dolours, I wrote to Rachel and I told her everything,

everything that I was feeling,

and my plans, my thoughts about the future...

Okay, well, clearly she doesn't feel the same.

[Dolours] Arsehole!

Yes, she does.

[Dolours] The peace negotiations

were a closely-guarded secret,

so no one noticed

when six scruffy members of the IRA leadership

came out of hiding and showed their faces in central London.

So, the Irish rebels had not had the chance

to meet face to face with their sworn enemy

since 1921.

It's like we're at a fucking wedding.

Adams, switch with me.

I want to keep an eye on the door.

The IRA chief of staff, Seán McStíofáin,

was dead certain the whole thing was a trap.

Either way,

this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for Gerry.

It was his chance to end the war.

We are so happy to welcome you to London,

and I trust your journey was without incident.

[clears throat]

And I'm full of optimism that we can reach

some kind of agreement here today.

Erm, so, shall we begin with, erm, what?

The political status of prisoners.

Actually...

I have a statement.

Thank you, Mr. Home Secretary,

for your words of welcome.

But I want to be clear.

We are here today for one thing:

to demand the removal of British troops

from occupied Ireland immediately

and to insist

that the British government apologize publicly

by Monday, 10 July, 1972.

That's in three days.

[Dolours] And that was that.

Gerry's career as a negotiator was over before it began.

And then the killing resumed the next day.

[gunfire and shouting]

[radio] ...brings the death toll up to seven

since the IRA announced the end of its ceasefire.

British security forces...

[shooting]

Tucker, get back from the window, please.

[shooting]

Tucker, come on, son.

Alright, get your mattresses.

We're sleeping on the floor tonight.

Tuck that sheet under the pillow there.

Mummy, can we do a fort?

[shooting continues]

Sure, it's a grand idea, Mick.

As long as it's away from the windows.

[faint cries for help]

Ma?

D'you hear that?

It's a... a dog.

[cries for help continue]

No.

- Or a cat. - We heard him, Ma.

[man's voice] Please! Please, is someone there? Help me!

Stay there.

[groaning and whimpering]

- What are you doing? - There's a wounded soldier.

Don't talk to him. No!

- Please just leave him, Mum! - Helen!

- Just ignore him, please. - Honestly!

It's alright.

- It's alright, it's alright. - Don't leave me.

- Please don't leave me. - They'll come.

[dog barking]

[gunfire]

I can't believe I'm about to say this,

but I think that you might actually look worse

than the last time I saw you.

- Do you want a drink? - Go ahead.

So, how was London?

- Grand success? - Look...

I actually wanted to talk to you about something specific.

I'm forming my own unit.

New blood, people we can trust.

Was it that bad?

Sure, the jobs may not be to your taste.

There's no costumes.

There's no one taking your photograph.

I don't care about the costumes.

Really?

I don't mind the costumes, but I can do without them.

- Jesus Christ, Gerry. - Well, good.

You'd be totally anonymous.

Even within the organization. The jobs would be all off-book.

So, even the lads wouldn't know?

I'll know.

Well, what exactly would we be doing?

Yeah, we can get into that.

- Who do I report to? - Well, there's a man named Pat.

He'll be your OC.

But you report to Pat. Pat reports to me.

- It's my squad. - Gerry! Look at you, aul' man!

- It is, it's my squad. - "It's my squad"!

What's the craic, Dolours?

- Hiya, Dark. Welcome back! - What's going on here?

Is the Big Lad trying to get you to join his secret squad?

How many people have you told?

Fuck, I'm gonna get meself in trouble.

[Mackers] Did it have a name, this squad,

this unit?

[Dolours] Aye.

We were called "The Unknowns".

- I'm in. - Good.

One condition.

What about Marian?

I'm not doing it without my sister.

Child, I already asked her.

[baby crying]

Can I help you?

He turns round and he goes,

"What are you looking at me for? I'm a Protestant."

I need you now. I need you right now.

We just picked him up.

Fuck's sake!

Careful. The bullet's still in his gut.

[groans]

Careful, mate! The bullet's still in his gut.

Alright. You're alright. You're alright.

The shooter was waiting on his doorstep.

He just opens the door. Just opens the door.

- And fucking bang! - I was holding my fucking baby.

Do we know who it was? Was it Kitson again?

He says it was one of ours.

[door opens]

- Sorry to startle you. - It's alright.

- I'm Pat. Gerry sent me. - Hi, Pat.

I got your first assignment.

You hear about that fella that got dragged into the pub?

The fella who got it in the gut.

Aye, I was there. Why, what's the craic?

Brendan looked into it.

Turns out it was one of our own men that had him shot.

Apparently, he was fucking the guy's wife.

He wants her husband out the way

so he orders a subordinate to shoot him.

Well, that's pathetic.

Yeah, well, he's to be taken down south and executed.

And Gerry wants me to...?

No.

You're just the driver.

Oh.

Look...

when Gerry mentioned covert action,

this wasn't, you know, exactly what I thought he meant.

Well, the whole thing's a bit of an embarrassment.

Gerry says we've to get our house in order.

So, you'll pick up this lad, take him down south.

- Does he know where he's headed? - Just keep him talking.

A little music, a little chat.

I'll put on my best smile.

Aye.

Dolours...

I should warn you.

You know the fella.

Hi, Dolours.

I'm very happy to see you.

Joe...

- Who is it? - It's just my friend, Ma.

[Mackers] Tell me about the Joe Lynskey business.

[Dolours] Joe was a gentle man.

I thought he was a gentle man.

You know, he'd made the mistake

of falling in love with another volunteer's wife.

Rachel.

And then he had her husband shot.

When it came to light what he'd done,

well, Joe, he would've been court-martialed and...

the sentence would've been death.

- You need a minute? - No, no, I'm...

No, I'm fine.

Carry on.

Did Joe know what was waiting for him

on the other side of the border that day?

Do you want some music?

Aye, whatever you like.

- Bee Gees? - Hey!

Look at you go!

Ach, that's not right, is it?

No. No.

- This window's broken. - What?

I says, that window's broken.

Oh, yeah, it is. It's broken. You have to give it a wee bang.

- Like that? - Aye.

Right.

[♪ music still playing]

- At least I can hear you now. - Mm.

I wanted to apologize to you, actually.

- Joe... - The other night,

you know, when I saw you,

I shouldn't have spoken to you the way that I did...

It's fine, Joe. No need.

You're a good one, Dolours Price.

You've got a good heart.

Right, here, coming up.

Just you remember,

you look them straight in the eye.

There you are, see?

Now we're across.

[song fades]

[Dolours] I'm just gonna run to the toilet.

[Joe] Right.

[phone rings]

- Hello? - Mar, it's me.

What are you calling me for?

I don't know that I can do this.

- Dotes, stop it. - Mar...

Where are you right now?

In a café.

- And where is he? - He's in the car.

- You left him on his own? - Ach, I know, I'm fucking it up.

Dolours, I swear to God...

Just drive, okay?

All you have to do is drive.

You ready to go?

[Dolours switches off engine]

Dolours...

I shouldn't have done what I did, but I want you to know...

- Joe... - No!

They're gonna say I was an aul' fool,

but I need you to believe me.

Please, I don't wanna know.

It wasn't in my head.

What we had between us, Rachel and me, it was real.

And I knew that. And... And she knew that.

You can say a lot of bad things about me, but it wasn't...

I wasn't crazy to think that...

It wasn't in my head.

Well, thank you for driving me.

I'll be seeing you, Joe.

Right.

How you doing tonight, miss? Where you headed?