Hi. I'm here about the leak.
It all seems quite clear. Thanks.
I'd like to check, if that's okay.
Could I see some ID?
Sure.
Why did you come back here?
I forgot something.
What was in France?
You know, French people, baguettes.
Do you really think this is the right moment for cheeky banter?
I need to speak with my grandfather
before you debrief us, okay?
And you need to promise to protect him.
If you do that, I'll answer everything you have, okay?
Why wouldn't we protect him? What's he done?
- Can you guarantee all that? - Where is he?
Give me your word.
We're taking you to the Park.
- You're in no position to make demands. - Okay, fine.
Who are you?
Sorry, forgetting my manners. Frank Harkness.
Although, you know me by another name.
Mitch Philpott.
I'm not the real Mitch Philpott, obviously.
No, he died a couple of years ago, you didn't know that, Molly.
But I brought him back from the dead to have a little chat with you last week,
and you were so happy to talk to someone from the old days.
It was kind of pathetic.
You wanted to get in touch with David Cartwright and Sam Chapman,
needed their addresses.
Yeah.
We spoke about old ops.
You had all the details, which makes you ex-CIA.
What?
If I'm not back at the Park within an hour, they'll come looking.
No, they won't. No one will miss you, Molly.
That's why I picked you.
You built your own dungeon and you shut everyone out.
What do you want?
Okay, good.
Person of interest has just been picked up.
I need to know where the Dogs are taking him.
Presumably to the Park. You don't need me to tell you that.
No, that's true, Molly, I don't.
But if you give me your fingerprint and your access codes,
I can then work my magic and track their journey.
Maybe say "hello," on the way
before they get swallowed up by the machine.
I'm more of a hard-copy girl.
But you still have access codes to the Park's computer systems.
I don't use them, so I don't remember them.
Come on, don't do yourself down, Molly. You remember everything.
That's why you're in charge of the archive.
My powers of recall aren't what they were.
Okay.
I can always cut off your finger, yeah?
Lay it on the keypad and take out an eye to jog your memory.
And fuck it, if you're gonna be an asshole about it,
I can saw through your remaining leg.
Even you up a little.
So, what do you say?
What do you say?
Do you have to do that? Right.
- Does he have to do this? - You've been pretty elusive, so, yes.
This is Robert Winters and the guy whose face you blew off.
Where did you get this?
I told you, I'm not saying anything until I've spoken to my grandfather.
Are you trying not to incriminate him?
What if the two other people in this photo are planning a second Westacres?
If there's any information you withhold,
which means we don't stop them setting off another bomb,
- that's on you. - Westacres was a one-off. I think.
Well, that's comforting.
Shall I take the official threat level down a few notches based on this hunch?
Look, this is good for you, isn't it? You get to bring us both in.
So, just give me five minutes. That's all I want.
Okay. You'll have your five minutes.
Thank you.
Where is he?
- Catherine Standish's. - Jesus Christ.
Lamb already tried that one. He's not there.
What?
I've got River Cartwright. He was at his grandfather's.
Why?
Well, he won't say.
Well, what is he saying?
Nothing. Just wants to talk to his grandfather.
Who doesn't? How's that going by the way?
Someone set off the fire alarm. When my guys got in, he'd gone.
I've got people combing through CCTV now.
Did River have the Lockhead passport on him?
- Yes. - Bring it to me.
Once you've taken him down to the basement.
Should be logged first.
Just bring it to me. I will take care of it.
Where is he?
Shut up.
- Does Lamb have him? - Shut up.
And why didn't you tell her about the photograph?
Shut up!
Let me out.
- It's all right, David. - You have to let me out.
You work for me, you do as I tell you.
You retired years ago, you daft sod.
And I quit working for you well before then.
Now, who'd you send guns and money to in France?
Fuck off, Lamb. I don't answer to you or to him.
To who?
Whoever's in France.
- Take me to First Desk. - No.
Are we going back to Slough House?
No!
- Where are you taking me? - Just sit back and shut up!
Should've got a taxi.
What's the hurry?
Just 'cause you can't afford it.
How much did you get for that gun?
What the fuck? Thanks.
You sold a gun?
I borrowed some money against a gun, yeah.
But I'm getting it back.
From Dancer Blaine?
How do you know Dancer?
I ran an undercover gun op.
Well, tell her he's a good guy. He doesn't sell to gangs.
What, just gentlemen collectors, is it?
- He doesn't sell to street gangs. - Thank you.
But he does sell to organized crime, unlicensed bodyguards.
Boutique arms dealer? Nice. Classy.
Was all that coke you snorted fair trade?
Sorry, do you pay tax on your gambling winnings?
Hello?
You left a message about my son.
Hi-- Sorry.
Guys, shut up! It's River's mother.
- Muppet. - Sorry.
You said something had happened to him.
Yeah. There was--
there was an incident at your father's house.
And someone tried to hurt him.
And there was a body which was misidentified as River.
How the hell did someone get that wrong?
You're probably wondering how your father is?
Not really.
Okay, well, he's missing,
and River is in the field, we've lost contact with him.
Would you like me to call you if there's any news about your father?
No. We haven't spoken in years.
When you see River, remind him I exist.
Well?
That family, what a car crash.
You called.
When you were over at the Park,
you were sent the police duty logs for the surrounding area.
Acknowledge.
Yes. Sorry. Right. Duty logs.
Well, that's not usually anything very interesting.
The odd drunk, pickpockets, occasional mugging.
And curb-crawling over by the old industrial estate.
Yes. Poor souls.
I know. I pity the man who has to pay for sex.
I was referring to the prostitutes.
This report came in a couple of weeks before you were moved.
Does that strike you as a regular name?
"Galahad." Yes, I remember thinking, not very knightly behavior.
And do you think that's someone's real name?
Well, it's certainly a very unusual name.
It's a Met code name for someone who works at the Park.
Who?
Well, you need next-level genius for that.
Right.
Well, where am I gonna find such a genius?
Relax. Ho's here.
Oh, my God. Him?
Yeah. He is why you're here.
Because he likes the ladies...
of the night.
Meeting.
Upstairs now.
- Who put you in charge? - Circumstances.
Ain't nothing without me.
Right, so what do we-- what do we know?
That I should be leading the meeting?
What are we doing here?
Right. We've got agents in the field,
so let's work out a way that we can support them.
Great help, Coe.
It helps him block things out.
Coe, seriously, do you think you could try and be in the room?
There's nothing going on in this room. We can't help anyone.
This is a D-list unit with no unifying sense of purpose.
Everyone here has checked out and been written off.
Well, speak for yourself.
He knows what he's talking about. He was in psych eval.
Psychological evaluation.
I might be a Slow Horse, but I can decipher abbreviations.
And that is a bullshit unit.
You have anger and intimacy issues,
you can't work in a team, but nor will you take personal responsibility.
You channel your own self-loathing into criticizing Marcus's gambling.
You're a deeply unhappy person.
Nutshell.
Okay, fuck this.
I am not gonna sit around waiting for more bodies to drop, so let's circle back.
What do we know about the man that tried to kill Chapman?
What? You mean this stone-cold legend?
Oh, my God. Ho, seriously?
Think you could take him, do you?
He'd slice through you
like piss through snow.
Instead of making GIFs to tease Marcus,
you could try and track him down before he tries to kill Chapman again.
Well, he was pretty injured, so we could check at the hospitals.
Well, he's not gonna go to a hospital, is he?
He won't want to be on any systems.
- He'll be with a backstreet doctor. - Yeah, that's true.
And they're not gonna have an online booking system.
So, there's no way of checking.
There is actually.
Backstreet doctors have usually been struck off.
We have a database which we share with agents going undercover,
in case they need them.
Fucking hell, you actually do have a use.
Okay. Do you have access to that database?
No.
Great.
But I can make some calls.
Come.
River Cartwright is incoming.
Good. That's good. Please take a seat.
Good. Yes. That's good.
Turns out that passport's actually made a few journeys.
Yeah, back and forth from France.
I meant before that actually.
Giti's just heard back from Interpol
and the individual European intelligence agencies.
And she brought me this.
See that there? Right.
So in June, 2014, he was in Munich, same time as a car bomb
killed a high-ranking member of the Chechen intelligence service.
Then he was in Paris. And--
Signal disconnected.
- That's annoying. Damn. - Signal disconnected.
- I don't know what's going on here. - It doesn't matter. I--
I know it doesn't matter. I just-- I'd like to get these things--
Hold on for two seconds 'cause there's a cable,
and we can actually link it up if I get the-- Oh, fu--
I actually don't know how that links up at all.
No, Claude, it really doesn't matter.
All right. Well, look, you can actually look at the computer--
Claude, I know where these cities are. I do not need a PowerPoint presentation.
Okay. Sure. Got it.
So, he was in Paris in February of 2015,
Palestinian human rights lawyer poisoned.
And then, in Stockholm, in March of 2017, blah blah-di blah,
a member of the Albanian Mafia drowned.
Yeah, so one of our IDs is being used by a death squad.
Two of our IDs actually.
Robert Winters was at both of those locations.
- So-- Oh, fuck. - Yes?
As you know, my brief is to activate accountability and accessibility,
that's the triple-A promise.
But now, reviewing the current situation in the round,
my position has shifted somewhat to fuck-that-completely. Fuck it.
This whole thing needs to be locked in a concrete box
and dropped in the middle of the ocean.
And what about Giti?
Potential whistleblower.
She needs to be put in a fucking concrete box and all.
That sounded awful. I didn't mean that--
I don't want any harm to come to Giti obviously.
Yeah.
She's signed the Official Secrets Act, hasn't she?
So she's gonna keep her mouth shut
if she values her job, and she bloody well does.
We need to talk to her.
That's a good idea. We should.
But what are we going to do about the Cartwrights?
We need to find out who pulled the trigger in that bathroom.
Keeping that person out of jail
will buy us everlasting silence from both of them.
Everlasting silence sounds really good around now.
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Well, thank you, Molly. You can keep your leg.
So, obviously you don't trust Taverner.
We have that in common.
I presume you didn't tell her about the photograph
because you know she'll have it destroyed, right?
Brilliant. Now who's being silent.
I left the Met because I was picky about things like competence and corruption.
Thought MI5 would be different.
And every fucker I've met in the last 24 hours
has dicked me around.
You, Lamb, Taverner, you all have your own agenda.
Don't put me in the same bracket as Taverner...
- I'm supposed to fall in line... - ...or Lamb.
...with whatever the mighty spooks want.
Look, maybe my actions have been hard to understand.
Faking your own death, hiding your grandfather,
shooting the face off a corpse.
Okay, if you're gonna do the list thing, then that's gonna make it sound worse.
That's very clever.
All I've been trying to do is protect my grandfather. That's it.
And how's that going?
Look, two people in that photograph are trying to kill him,
and I don't know where he is,
and now you've handcuffed me to a car door.
How's that helping?
So you have to find him and you have to stop them.
Do you think it's appealing that the only time you open up to me
is to give me orders?
Do you think it's appealing when you handcuff me to a car door?
Just get the photograph out there. Now.
Why are these men trying to kill him?
That's between me and him initially.
All right, so we're back to hidden agendas.
Look, you said to me before that if there was another Westacres,
that would be on me.
Well, if my grandfather dies, that's gonna be on you.
Giti, I've just sent you a photo. Find out who's in it. Take it to Whelan.
How can you be sure she's gonna give it to Whelan?
Because I copied him in.
Thank you.
- I need to talk to First Desk. - Where are we, Jackson?
I need to speak to First Desk.
- Wait. - Yes.
- Wait. - Jackson.
Well, what are we doing here? Are we waiting for someone?
He created the cold body that blew up Westacres.
I need to find out who he gave it to and why.
Well, he's only going to open up to First Desk.
He'll open up to me.
What, you're going to interrogate him?
Come on, you make it sound so brutal. I'm not gonna hurt him.
I'm probably not gonna hurt him.
Come on, David. Let's stretch our legs, eh?
It's good to get a bit of quiet.
I mean, you've had a hell of a couple of days.
Why have you brought me here?
Why have you brought me to Rose?
Well, you won't answer to me. You can answer to her.
She doesn't know.
Doesn't know what?
That a bunch of innocent shoppers got blown to pieces
because of what you did and then you shot her grandson?
I didn't shoot River.
I shot somebody else, somebody pretending to be River.
No, no, I thought it was River. That's what you said.
Jackson, no.
No, I--
I shot River.
- No, you didn't. - Yes, he did. He knows he did.
- I killed him. - You used to get people
to do your killing for you, David.
How's it feel to finally get your hands dirty?
It must be tough though.
I mean, killing a loved one, I don't know how you can live with that.
- David-- - They're probably up there
looking down and wondering why you didn't blow your own brains out in that bathroom
once you realized what you did.
Look, stop it. You're torturing him.
Yeah, I know. And it feels fucking great.
David.
I did it for her. It was all for her.
Yes, for Rose.
For our daughter.
Your daughter?
I don't u--
What, the girl in France, she was your daughter?
Yeah, he took her from us.
He's a fucking monster.
David. What was his name, David?
He was a fucking monster.
Who? David.
What was the name of the monster?
Harkness. Frank Harkness.
What made him a monster?
Preemptive assassinations, that was his thing.
Who did he want to kill?
He brought us a list of targets.
People who deserved to die.
Yes, he wanted to create a deniable assassination squad.
Killers raised from birth.
He was completely mad. We sent him away.
And then what? You said he took her. You mean he kidnapped her?
No, she wanted to be with him. I couldn't let that happen.
I wanted to get her away from him.
And that's why he targeted her.
I had to give him what he wanted, you see, in order to get her back--
get her back for me, for Rose.
I lied. I didn't tell her anything about it.
I didn't tell anybody anything.
Well, then, if you gave him what he wanted,
why is he after you now?
Because David can link him to Westacres,
and anyone who knows that connection is on their kill list.
Well, then we have to get him to the Park. He's not safe out here.
Well, you promised River you'd look after him.
I'm not sure the Park is the best place to hide.
They don't wanna be linked to Westacres either.
They'd rather he died in that bathroom.
So, what do I do?
Well, for a start, you can tell him River's alive.
Not that the poor bastard will remember.
Oh, David, come on. It's getting a bit cold.
Did he give up Cartwright?
I've got Chapman's phone. Cartwright might call.
Molly, Patrice. Patrice, Molly.
Oh, I know.
Names and faces,
makes you think I'm gonna kill you when I've got what I want.
The thing is, though, Molly, I do need to send a message
and you're gonna help me with that.
Chapman was an old friend of this guy, Jackson Lamb.
So, any of this crew the ones that came to his rescue?
Lamb was driving.
And these two were there.
So that unit that got the better of you is for shitheels and burnouts.
What's the matter?
I failed you. I should be punished.
I'm not gonna punish you for taking so long to kill an old man.
But I will punish you for self-indulgence.
I don't need you staring at your shoes waiting to be hit.
I need you on your toes ready to strike.
Fucking look me in the fucking eyes.
It's you and me. We're the only ones left.
And if I'd had to choose one to save, it would've been you.
So you channel your grief and your shame and your rage,
and we will put this right. We'll build again.
No better friend,
no worse enemy.
Okay. Go to your station.
Here we go. Showtime.
I'll let you handle this.
That's very gracious of you.
- Hi, Giti. - I've done it.
Yes, I saw you collated the movements of the cold bodies.
No, I meant the photo.
What photo?
The one that Emma Flyte sent me and First Desk.
Oh, Jesus Christ. How the hell do I get this off here?
You can't.
- I didn't know anything about this-- - Can someone please show me this photo?
Yes, of course. Do you have a screen I can link up to?
No.
It shows the Westacres bomber
and the man who used the Adam Lockhead cold body,
with two other men. Another cold body there, Paul Wayne.
Fucking brilliant. A hat trick.
And who is this one?
Frank Harkness, ex-Special Forces, ex-CIA.
Discharged for disobedience, embezzlement, weapons theft and torture.
Well done, Giti. Get their descriptions out there.
If they're in the country, we need to bring them in.
Yes.
We don't have a concrete box big enough for this, do we?
No, we don't.
Good boy.
I've checked Moira's list of struck-off doctors.
One of them died earlier today.
Suspiciously?
Fell down the stairs.
I checked the CCTV footage at either end of the street.
Guy walks in looking like he was hit by a taxi.
He walks out looking like he's had some very high-quality painkillers.
- Is that your guy? - Jesus Christ, he's barely limping.
Dislocated his hip. He should be passed out from the pain.
He's a fucking Terminator.
What? He's a shape-shifter made of liquid metal?
That's the T-1000. I'm saying he's more like T-800.
Fucking hell, Longridge. I can't even look at you right now.
- Yeah, I can't be in this room. - I'm not ashamed. It's a great franchise.
Dogs have got River, by the way. Picked him up at his grandfather's house.
Why didn't you just tell me that straightaway?
What were you gonna do about it? Look, Cartwright's safe.
- Cross him off your worry list. - Idiot.
Although, they'll probably throw him out for good for all the trouble he's caused.
All right, could you pull that up?
- Just gonna-- - Yeah?
River's back, the Dogs have him.
Jesus Christ. I gave him all that cover and he lasted a day.
Well, at least he's safe.
Chapman might not be though.
The guy that tried to kill him is still around.
How do you know?
Ho found him heading into a backstreet doctor
who he killed after getting treatment.
Listen, Standish is bringing David back to Slough House.
Lock him down and do not let the Park know.
Here, you drive. You can drop me at the tube.
Why aren't you coming with us?
Chapman didn't check in.
He's bringing David back.
Shouldn't he take him to the Park?
Apparently not.
Oi!
Who are you talking to?
Kim. Smoking hot chat. She just--
She just, like, gets me, you know?
That's a bot.
What?
That's a bot.
I used to provide behavior analysis for these kind of programs.
They tell you what you want to hear...
manipulate you... for scams.
Only a small percentage of people are duped.
- But it's enough-- - Just fuck off, all right.
Three minutes.
Sorry about before, by the way.
Giving you guys the runaround at St. Pancras.
You actually got quite close.
You're not bad for a Slow Horse.
Right. So I'm the middle rank of the shittiest group. That's nice.
I'd love to stay and chat, but I have an urgent appointment to get to.
You've been very helpful, but you've outlived your purpose.
Hey, that's what your bosses at the Park must say too, right?
Just get on with it.
Gladly. Like I say, I'm in a hurry too.
Well, goodbye, Molly.
Nothing personal, strictly business.
But I need to send a message.
Lamb's a tricky bastard.
Annoyingly, when he actually gets up off his arse,
he's quite hard to beat.
What's he like as a boss?
- Terrible. - He doesn't strike me as--
Shit.
We need to move.
- Turn the fucking car around now! - Do it.
Move, move, move, move. Come on.
It's blocked.
Oh, shit.
We're stuck.
Call for backup. We need backup now.
- Shit. Get me out of these fucking cuffs. - No, don't get out of the car.
- Fucking give me the keys! - Stay in the car.
Shit.
Fucker!
Shut the door. Shut the--
His fucking leg's in the way.
- Fuck! - Shit!
- Push him out. - I am.
Fuck!
Get out there and fucking shoot him for fuck's sake.
Fuck.
Keep still.
Fuck you.
Get out!
Get the fuck out! Open the boot!
Just do it.
Open the fucking boot!
Back off.