This programme contains scenes which some viewers may find upsetting,
graphic violent scenes and strong language.
GUNSHOT The Home Secretary, Isaac Turner,
- was shot by a gunman. - Have you got the shooter? It's not him.
Allow me to introduce Commander Pierson, our new Head of SO15.
- THAT is the man that shot Isaac Turner. - OK.
Escort Mr Pierson to additional vetting.
BEEPING
Security check?
The scanner identified a foreign object
inside the individual's upper torso.
Armed Support to Security!
- NAPIER: - I would delete that one... - What the f...?
..if I were you. We have a deal.
Why would I do you a favour?
So I can owe you one.
Face match, ma'am. 97.8%.
- On Pierson? - No, ma'am.
On the gunman. James Whitlock.
Ten o'clock news, we name James Whitlock as our suspect.
- James Whitlock? - I told you he should never have been let out.
I saw you kill Isaac Turner. And you know I did.
Why don't we bring this sideshow to a close and get on with the job?
You and I have a rather important case to solve.
Think we know where to find him. You heading down there?
- Of course. - You can jump in with me.
SIRENS WAIL
Where's Armed Support? Where's Uniform?
They'll be here any second.
- Then we wait. - And risk Whitlock escaping?
You better come and see this.
ELECTRICITY AND GROANS
Simmer down, Wildcat. You're not going anywhere.
You should've killed me when you had the chance.
Are we agreed on the parameters?
Fast-Track, when have you ever known me to not respect boundaries?
I mean it, Frank.
- This is not a CIA black site. - It's not? The trouble you're in,
this had better be a CIA black site.
Have you found nothing on him?
Piece of shit doesn't leave a mark.
Can you at least get into his phone?
Oh, I'm sorry, Wizard.
She doesn't know who you are.
Did you get into the phone? Is there a tracker?
Find it, divert it.
No-one's tracking this device.
Are you sure? He didn't firewall his device for no reason.
He's got to have something on there he doesn't want us to see.
Yeah, maybe this...
What the hell is that?
Does he have a pacemaker?
He has an implant in his chest, yeah.
Your prime suspect has a heart problem?
Fast-Track, something's off here. I mean a spook, maybe...
- Special Forces? - Cattle prod didn't trouble him too much.
- Yeah, well, we can always up the voltage. - Frank!
You want to find out who this asshole is, let me do my thing, OK?
- Would you let me do my thing? - Covert interrogation.
- No contact. - I won't touch a hair on his head.
His car's clean.
KEYS JANGLE
- LATIF OVER RADIO: - Kilo Three, Kilo One.
Brecknock Farm. Arrival.
Kilo One. I'm on my way.
I need to show my face.
That other boy? Whitlock?
You know James Whitlock?
I know everybody.
Apparently not.
Trust me, Frank,
you need to proceed with extreme caution.
I've seen what this man is capable of.
What about you, Wizard?
You see a killer?
OFFICER OVER RADIO: Alpha One to all units.
Brecknock Farm. Rear perimeter secured.
Approaching Whitlock caravan from the south.
- MAN 2 OVER RADIO: - Foxtrot Two, copy.
Farm building's clear. No sign of movement.
BUZZING
EXPLOSION
Armed police! Armed police! Armed police! Clear!
- Right clear! - Caravan clear!
Unit's clear, ma'am.
ALARM BEEPS
We'll be there in 15, ma'am.
LINE RINGS
Tom?
Er, wait one second, caller.
DC Tan, command of the room is yours.
Understood.
Take it you can talk, ma'am?
Yeah, Commander Pierson's
- following a...new lead in the investigation. - OK.
Uh, you're overdue an update on our extra-curricular surveillance.
I didn't realise you were still helping me, Tom.
That's uncalled for, Carey. I'm on your side,
whatever that side is. There's nothing in the rule book
that says I have to agree with every word you say.
Fair.
Well, if you do want to help me, figure out how the fuck Noah Pierson
managed to correct one of our Operation Veritas feeds.
I'll run checks again, but this might have to be one of those
points of disagreement I'm talking about.
If someone fucked with the Veritas feeds, I'd know about it.
So unless he's got a twin brother,
I'm inclined to believe that Noah Pierson
was in Coal Drops Yard at the time Isaac Turner was shot.
You might believe differently if you'd seen it with your own eyes.
What's the surveillance update?
It's Bronx Zoo.
Go on.
We've lost eyes-on.
- How the hell did that happen? - He managed to give his
detail the slip at some point last night.
Might have something to do with resources being stretched,
what with the manhunt taking priority. We're running Facial Rec.
Shouldn't we be?
No, of course.
Good work.
On second thoughts,
Tom, you know, you're right.
Resources. Napier's just not a priority.
- OK. - Let's focus on White Rabbit.
Er...
She's got to be involved.
Yeah, about White Rabbit, she made contact with Cash Flow.
- When? - We tracked her vehicle to his home address, 10.25 last night.
After the news broke about Whitlock?
They met in a blind spot. The eyeball couldn't get close.
Increase surveillance coverage on both targets.
Get a trojan into their phones.
- Update me whenever there's movement. - Understood.
But you have to understand there's only
so much I can do whilst we keep up the pressure on the Whitlock front.
Don't worry, Tom. The ops room's yours.
You won't have anyone breathing down your neck for a while.
- NAPIER: - Welcome aboard flight 101 to an undisclosed location
outside the legal jurisdiction of the United Kingdom.
We'll be cruising at an altitude that makes breathing uncomfortable,
and our flight time will be as long as it takes to break you.
If you are sitting next to an emergency exit, my advice? Jump.
Thank you for flying CIA
and we hope you enjoy the in-flight entertainment.
BLACK METAL PLAYS
- LATIF: - Kilo Three to Control.
- Go ahead? - Brecknock Farm is clear.
No eyes on target. Repeat.
No eyes on Whitlock.
- Got the phone, Kilo Three? - Yep, we've got the phone.
- Uploading now. - Got more than that.
Kilo Three to Kilo One.
Ma'am, are you close?
FEEDBACK SQUEAKS
You all right, ma'am?
Yeah, course.
What have you got for me?
You've got to see this.
The property backs onto a shooting range.
Shooting range?
Whitlock applied for membership.
They told him it was a long waiting list.
It was their way of putting him off, apparently.
They said that some of their members didn't take too kindly
to "fake squaddies".
When was the last time anyone saw him?
The last time they saw his van parked here was yesterday morning.
He hasn't returned since the time of the attack on Isaac Turner.
Ma'am...
He's been planning something.
BLACK METAL PLAYS
MUSIC STOPS, HEAVY BREATHING
MUSIC STARTS AGAIN
Argh!
MUSIC STOPS
MUSIC STARTS
MUSIC CONTINUES
MUSIC STOPS
HIGH-PITCHED SQUEAL
Suspect's phone download complete.
- 64 gigabyte of video files. - Load them and scan them.
Let's find out what Jamie Whitlock's got to say for himself.
OK, July 20th.
Home Office says...68 total.
Simon says, 101.
Control, Kilo Three?
- Go ahead. - Got a green Transit van registered to a Stuart Whitlock.
- Medway, Kent. - Yeah, that's the uncle.
Foxtrot Delta 57 Uniform Alpha Oscar.
- Run an ANPR. - Happening.
Control, we need to authenticate these Home Office documents.
Did Whitlock get hold of them legally?
Or has he hacked the Home Office?
- Received. - Understood. What's his phone given us?
Uh, last activity yesterday morning.
Exchange of messages, encrypted then deleted.
- Recover them. - In progress, ma'am.
Whitlock's been a busy boy online.
Home Office says, 82.
Simon says, 157.
He's been busy here, too.
- Busy doing what exactly? - Reconnaissance?
Reconnaissance for...?
None of this is Westminster.
His escape.
- Kilo One, Control. - Ma'am?
Call Comms. Put out an All-Ports Warning.
And issue an arrest warrant for James Whitlock.
HIGH-PITCHED SQUEAL ENDS
I was listening to that.
NAPIER CHUCKLES
Guantanamo FM.
Doesn't seem to trouble you too much.
You got yourself some coping mechanisms.
Can't beat the old classics.
Dentist drilling?
Hmm... Although I'd have to go with a newborn baby screaming.
How about Americans speaking?
Hm...
I wish to see Deputy Commander Carey.
Can't allow it.
Whatever she's told you about me, she's mistaken.
Is she?
Well, I gotta say, I'm intrigued.
I mean, two days ago, you didn't exist.
Now...
- Now you run Counter-Terrorism. - HE LAUGHS
Who are you, pal? Who sent you?
The Gods?
I am Commander Noah Pierson, SO15.
You are falsely imprisoning a Senior British Police Officer.
Or someone who's impersonating one.
- Is that what she's accused me of? - Hm, it's on the list.
You know, just cos somebody gives you a badge, doesn't make you a cop.
I mean, we both know you're a plant.
Question is, who planted you? Moscow? Beijing?
Quite the leaps we're making.
I mean, you can't be British Intelligence.
I can't?
Our paths would've crossed.
- Would they? - MI6 spooks come with a legend.
You're not a banner agent. You're a blank page.
Where did you grow up? Where did you go to school?
What makes you the man you are today?
How many people have you killed in combat?
You Special Forces, son?
Your deputy seems to think you are.
Well...
I never met a marine with a heart murmur.
Is that a recent accessory?
PIERSON GRUNTS
Hmm...
Something happen on tour?
Somebody break your heart?
I wish to see Deputy Commander Carey.
And I wish to see Asia.
I wish to see Japan...
..with all of the cherry blossoms that fall in...
..in the spring.
BEEPS
No! God!
HIGH-PITCHED SQUEAL
The manhunt for James Whitlock has intensified this afternoon
as police believe the Westminster suspect
may be attempting to flee the country via the South Coast.
Control to all units. I repeat, Flight-Risk Alert.
All-Ports Warning in effect.
Be advised, suspect is dangerous and may be armed.
Tide times.
Hm?
I don't think you'll find him at the ports, ma'am.
I reckon he's planned on using a small boat.
He's printed tidal forecasts for every beach in Kent.
So, he could be setting off from...?
Any one of them, if he knows what he's doing.
If he knows what he's doing,
why did he leave his escape plans hanging on the wall?
What are all these marks along the coast?
- KENDRICKS ON RADIO: Control, Kilo One? - Go ahead.
We've recovered Whitlock's encrypted messages, ma'am.
- And? - I think it's fair to say he's not working alone.
- He's been receiving instruction. - From?
Er, the number's saved in his contacts under the name "Simon".
That name's coming up a lot.
WHITLOCK: Simon says, 66.
What was his most recent message, the one received yesterday morning?
Uh... "If you're interested in properties by the sea
"Abbot's Cliff is nice."
As codes go, it's hardly Enigma.
We think he might be trying to escape using a small boat.
There's four coves to choose from.
Search Teams and Firearms Support to
- Abbot's Cliff, Kent. - On their way, ma'am.
- LYONS: - All units, repeat, all units...
Firearm Support to Abbot's Cliff in Kent. That's Abbot's Cliff in Kent.
Ma'am, it looks like there's a lot of talk between Simon
- and Whitlock about a big event on the 17th. - Yesterday.
The day of the attack.
He's not trying to escape the country for no reason, ma'am.
Abbot's Cliff. We're on our way.
HIGH-PITCHED TONE
You hanging in there, Boy Scout? Heart-rate, normal.
Blood pressure, OK.
Everything seems to be ticking in that little box of yours.
Where's Rachel Carey?
You know, I'm starting to think,
maybe that thing is not a chink in your armour after all.
Is that what's keeping your pulse rate so even, RoboCop?
If I'm to be interrogated, I'd like the Deputy Commander present.
Or are you just a stone-cold killer?
Another accusation.
I think you ought to know...
..Rachel Carey may not be of sound mind.
You a shrink?
Don't have to be a psychiatrist to be
concerned about a colleague's mental health.
She has suffered a profound trauma. She deserves professional help.
But whatever accusations
she may have flung around should be treated with caution,
- and certainly not form the basis of covert action! - Whoops.
Do you trust her judgment?
I don't trust, period.
But one thing about Rachel Carey,
when she gets an idea in her head, oftentimes there's something to it.
Brilliant.
Meanwhile, there's a killer out there.
Either that, or he's in here.
Sure.
You got me. I'm a stone-cold killer.
Ma'am, are we on the same page? Are we looking for the same suspect?
We are looking for James Whitlock.
He's involved one way or another.
We need to find him and get him in a cell, either way.
You still think he was set up? The news footage corrected?
I'm not expecting you to agree with me.
I'm not sure what I found harder to watch,
you insisting that our new boss was the killer, or you buckling.
I did not buckle.
I have not buckled.
MOBILE VIBRATES
Khadija, your lawyer's on the line again?
No, I'm calling as a friend.
I thought I'd call you and see how you were
- after last night. - What do you mean?
Well, I would say once more with feeling, but we only get one.
I've seen more conviction on the faces of
hostages in ISIS videos.
You still think Whitlock is fake news, don't you?
Nothing I said in that press statement is untrue.
We are looking for James Whitlock.
This is me you're talking to.
I understand the art of sticking closely to the truth
when you're lying. I do this for a living!
We're looking for Whitlock.
OK... Well, if you stumble across any
exclusives to the contrary,
or any exclusives at all,
you know where to find me.
Are we still friends?
So long as it's purely transactional.
Yeah, of course.
TAN OVER RADIO: Control to Kilo One.
Go ahead.
Ma'am, it looks like Whitlock got hold of those Home Office
documents via Freedom of Information requests.
He made a total of nine requests during his time in prison.
Nine Freedom of Information requests?
It sounds like Whitlock had it in for the Home Office.
He accused the Government of covering up the true
stats on undocumented migrants.
Fair to say, it's something of an obsession for the lad.
Whitlock's 4chan account, ma'am, de-activated last month.
- Because? - Sending you the post
that got him kicked off the platform.
Our history books say the last land invasion of England was 1066.
In actual fact, the last land invasion of England was
yesterday morning at 9.45, when a boat
carrying 40 undocumented male migrants landed in Dungeness, Kent.
Now, that is 40, four-zero, fighting-age illegal male migrants.
Now a land invasion is an act of war.
Right, in war, civilians are allowed to fight back.
We're supposed to fight back.
And the next time a boatload of fighting-age males
lands on our shores...
..we'll be ready.
Turn the car around.
- Kilo One, Control. - This is our land.
It's our duty to defend it.
- TAN: - Go ahead, ma'am.
It's not an escape plan.
SIREN WAILS
If the authorities won't do it...
..what are we going to do, eh?
What are you going to do?
SIREN WAILS
- Tactical Command, with me. - Ma'am.
How many World War II bunkers on the coast of Kent? Roughly.
- 50? 100? - 100 at least.
That's what these are.
Search Teams deploy to 27 East,
39 North, West Cove, Abbot's Cliff.
HELICOPTER APPROACHING
- Armed police! - Interlock your fingers!
Put your hands on your head!
Drop down to your knees! Cross your feet over!
- TACTICAL OFFICER, OVER RADIO: - Target detained.
Repeat, target detained.
- Has he been searched? - Secure!
TACTICAL COMMANDER, OVER RADIO: Suspect detained, ma'am.
He's been handed over to your arrest teams.
No shots fired.
Just as well.
Suspect was found in possession of an unlicensed firearm,
a long-range rifle.
With every intent to use it.
Outstanding work.
MOBILE RINGS
- Rachel? - Khadija.
You want an exclusive?
I'm listening.
How's the bladder holding up? You need a potty break?
Mm, excellent prostate control.
Cherish that.
I'm still not sure what it is you do.
- You can't be US Intelligence. - Can't?
Our paths would've crossed.
For a minute, I thought you might be Rachel Carey's Republican
uncle or something, you know, in from out of town.
If I'm this stone-cold killer you say I am,
what chance would you have of getting me to talk?
I have my various ways.
So has my friend Jean-Paul here.
ELECTRICITY CRACKLES
Argh!
You remember Jean-Paul.
He's the one that took you down with a cattle prod.
Jean-Paul, say hello.
Go fuck yourself.
Yeah, Jean-Paul can get very cranky when we...when we push lunch.
HE GROANS
Figures.
Bound to encroach on the afternoon nap. Argh!
30,000 volts are going through you right now.
Jean-Paul, what's the highest it goes to?
High as an angel's left tit.
Oh, God. Jean-Paul, he's not really up on what he's not supposed to say.
He's also not really up on what he's not supposed to do.
Argh!
Health and Safety gone mad.
Hard to keep up.
Is that a Parisian accent, Jean-Paul,
or are you from the Dordogne?
Argh!
Deputy Commander Carey,
you are complicit in illegal interrogation,
and you are complicit in torture.
You can stop this!
Who the fuck are you talking to?
If you guarantee my safety, I will speak to you,
but you alone!
For God's sake, I mean, haven't you done enough to the poor woman?
You got something to say, why don't you say it to me?
Sorry. I don't talk to strangers.
Prick.
You know, if you'd come to me in the beginning,
you wouldn't be in this mess.
You do know about the "special relationship", don't you?
Well, if you are British Intelligence,
we're on the same side, asshole.
"We"?
Langley...
For fuck's sake.
Now I get it.
You get what?
You're a Scarecrow.
They left you out in the field.
The term you're trying to think of is Field Agent,
as in, the "lifeblood of the Agency".
You know a lot of things can be done online now?
Well, not everything.
If I want to talk to the CIA, I'm calling Langley.
You want the Pope, call the Vatican,
not some crumbling parish outpost with a dying priest.
HE LAUGHS
Scarecrows...
I used to love hearing stories about you guys.
Wasn't there a station chief in Paris who ran his ops room
out of a brothel?
Berlin. And it was...above a brothel.
Holy shit! That was you?
Yeah, it was a kompromat factory.
Now if you want to find out what somebody eats for breakfast,
you bug a cafeteria. If you want to find out
what somebody will flip over,
you bug a whorehouse.
Well, I can't imagine why they reassigned you.
You just get here? Apparently, the last guy overstayed his welcome.
Real old-school, paranoid.
He'd tear down his ops room every other week, move it from one
junkyard to another, never tell the Embassy where he was going next.
Sounds like quite a sensible fellow to me.
Kind of a legend, kind of a dick,
kind of a scumbag, if you believe the rumours.
They say the reason he worked off-radar was the Abu Ghraib shit
he had going on in the basement.
- Tittle-tattle. - I feel like the guy's name was Dick.
Have I made that up? Dick? Or Bob?
- Or... - Frank? - Frank! That's it!
Frank...Napper?
- Careful there, Boy Scout. - Nipper?
Frank...
..Napier?
Frank Napier.
I breathe rarefied air.
Well, for now, you do.
I'm sorry I called you a dick.
Whoa, wait a second...
Aren't you the one who got played by Rachel Carey?
More gossip.
Oh, you're quite the yenta, aren't you?
Didn't she expose Correction on your watch? That's got to sting.
I would wait for the report to come out before I rush to
- conclusions on that one. - Sorry, but how are you still here?
And you're working with Rachel Carey again,
- hasn't she humiliated you enough? - How about this?
How about I ask the questions and you give the answers?
Why don't you bring Rachel Carey down from up on high,
- and maybe we can get somewhere...? - Because she is not here...
- Wizard, play the hits. - No...
GRUNTS AND STRUGGLES
BABY SCREAMING
Movement.
Cash Flow is mobile.
MOBILE VIBRATES
DC Tan, command of the room is yours.
Eyes on target.
Cash Flow on the move.
All Surveillance Units be advised.
Cash Flow is high-profile and highly trained.
Eyeball on target.
Least he was once.
BABY SCREAMS HARSHLY
Argh!
MOBILE VIBRATES
Fast-Track.
"Regular updates," I said.
Oh, I thought you were calling me.
Any developments I need to know about?
Well, earlier I thought your boy was a piece of shit,
now I think he's a fucking piece of shit.
So, I guess you can call that a development.
Why isn't he talking? What's taking so long?
Khalid Sheikh Mohammed took 20 years.
You might need to, um...rein it in.
What the fuck are you talking about?
We've arrested James Whitlock.
Oh.
- You think maybe you got this wrong? - No, I didn't say that.
Just, um...
..might need to take the heat off until I know more.
Well, I wish I could, Fast-Track, but we're kind of on a roll here.
I mean, I'm boiling a lobster -
can't take him out of the pot until he's done.
Frank! Noah Pierson is my suspect.
You're not the only one this concerns any more, Fast-Track.
This has gotten personal.
- Fra...! - KENDRICKS, OVER RADIO: Kilo Two, Kilo One.
Fuck!
- Tom, go ahead. - You said to update you whenever there was movement?
- Yes? - Cash Flow is mobile.
Do not lose eyes-on.
Ma'am.
Lima Nine to Control. Cash Flow heading east on Ramilies Road.
- TV: - Police say they have averted a second mass shooting
by the Westminster suspect, James Whitlock.
Whitlock, wanted in connection with the murder of Isaac Turner,
has been arrested on multiple charges.
Target stopping.
Keep eyes-on.
Kilo One?
Tom.
We've got another meeting.
Cash Flow's at White Rabbit's home address.
Get into their devices. I want to hear every word.
Already on it.
Cash Flow's phone is off.
What about White Rabbit's?
Seconds away, sir.
Cup of tea?
A very weak Earl Grey.
Lots of milk.
- Into the phone. - Activate onboard mic. - Activating.
CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS LOUDLY
Shall we take our tea into the other room?
I can't hear myself think in here!
Bollocks.
HIGH-PITCHED TONE
You ready to talk?
Heart rate's finally up.
That gizmo giving out on you?
Look, Frank...
..you were right.
I was?
You and me,
we're on the same team.
Of course we are.
You understand.
We both gave up our shot at normal life, didn't we?
We chose to live in the shadows...
..without a flicker of recognition.
Without so much as a "Thank you for your fucking service"!
They pass us on the street, don't they? They don't know!
How could they?
They have no idea the sacrifices we've made to keep the world
- a safer place. - I have given two marriages to this shit.
So, one unsung hero to another, I'm asking you to do me
a solid, Frank. I need to reach Deputy Commander Carey
as a matter of urgency.
You need a ride, or you good to get the bus?
Tell me where she is. We walk away.
FRANK CHUCKLES
This never happened.
You think I'm going to let you walk away, now,
after you just started talking?
Am I talking, Frank?!
I've given you nothing.
You've given me your name, half the places you've worked,
how many wives you've had.
Who's interrogating who?
Well, maybe you'll be a little bit more forthcoming
with 50,000 volts up your ass.
I just told you we're on the same side!
Prove it.
Well, it's not that simple!
ELECTRICITY CRACKLES Argh! God!
Who do you work for?
Even if I tried to explain it, you wouldn't understand... Argh!
How many more blows to the heart before your fuse blows, huh?
For God's sake, Frank!
Surely you must be familiar with the concept of "need to know"?!
- What about it? - Well, and I cannot emphasise this enough, there is
- a lot you don't need to know! - What if I want to know?
You're almost out of the game.
Why fill your head with facts you're not going to need
in the CIA nursing home?
You've served your country, and her allies, now with the greatest
respect, Frank, take a bow and fuck off!
Before you do...
..be a mensch.
Let me go?
You almost had me.
Was it mensch? Was it too much?
It was a little too much.
I take it back.
Forget I said anything. Just...
Let me out of here, please!
Nah.
Wait... No! You don't understand!
I need...
Argh!
Boss?
What the fuck? It can't have been the cattle prod.
It can't?
You just put 50,000 volts through him, Frank.
What are you, Amnesty International? What the fuck is the protocol, huh?
I mean, what do we do?
What, do we jump start the engine? What do we do?!
Ph... Phone...
- He wants his phone. - Well, we're not calling a fucking ambulance!
I think he's got something on his phone.
- What the...? - Wizard! Phone!
- A... A... - What the fuck are you saying, asshole?
The app, the pacemaker app. It needs a code.
- Well, can't you hack it? - If you give me a few minutes...
Does he look like he has a few minutes?!
You know what, fuck it! Cut his arm loose.
If you're a leftie, son, you're out of fucking luck.
Argh!
RAPID BEEPING
No way.
RAPID BEEPING
TRILLING, GASPS
- TV NEWS: - After an extensive search operation in Kent,
suspect in the Westminster attack, James Whitlock,
was detained by police earlier today.
Well, no doubt residents across London
and the South East will rest easier
knowing that James Whitlock is inside a Maximum Security
cell tonight, and no longer a threat to public safety.
Deputy Commander Carey,
are you pleased to have found your suspect so quickly?
Was this a racially motivated attack?
Rachel?
Paige...
Rested?
Yeah, er, no, not really. Um, sorry, did you, brief the BBC?
I didn't want to take advantage of you.
I thought you needed the rest, so I didn't want to bother you.
That's really naughty.
Everything is supposed to go through me.
I thought you'd be happy.
First bit of news that doesn't make us look like idiots all week.
Now maybe everyone can leave me alone for five minutes,
while I try and solve this case.
- LIFT: - Doors closing.
Make your way to the scanner, please.
This way.
Take your shoes off please, sir.
Suspect now with Security for Scan and Search.
- James Whitlock is in custody, ma'am. - Outstanding result, ma'am.
It's quite a charge sheet this dickhead's chalked up.
We haven't even started on Westminster.
Tom, how's the surveillance? What's the update?
Guvnor's looking for you.
- Yates? - Pierson.
Rachel!
Excellent timing!
Just got back a moment ago myself.
With rather less to show for my efforts than you, I must admit!
Congratulations, Rachel.
You've got your man!
THEY JOIN IN APPLAUSE
- Well done, ma'am. - Well done, ma'am.
Now all you need to do is get a confession out of the bastard,
so we can all go home.
You don't mind if I watch, do you?
I'm sure you two can break a scumbag like Whitlock in your sleep.
It'll be an education for me.
Of course.
- Tom, resume work on Veritas. - Ma'am.
Uh, command of the room is yours, sir.
Tom.
Rachel...
You all right? You look like you've seen a ghost.
Huh?
Don't worry. Nothing's going to come back to haunt you.
At least, I can't imagine why it would.
You and I should probably have a good...catch up.
As soon as we...come up for air.
You know, a really good heart-to-heart.
There's only one way through this, Rachel.
For me and for you.
What's that?
Together.
Right, before we start, I'd just like to confirm that you're
James Whitlock, of 18 Moors Drive, Lewisham, South London...
Does he look like he has a few minutes?!
You know what, fuck it! Cut his right arm loose.
If you're a leftie, son, you're out of fucking luck.
GASPS
Secure the prisoner.
GUNSHOT
MORE GUNSHOTS
GUNSHOTS
Wow, at times like these, you really find out who you can count on.
I thought somebody might show up.
We're all alone in this world, Frank.
- Uh-no! - Nobody's coming for you or me, pal.
The only fucker you can count on is yourself.
Do you want to save yourself, Frank? Tell me where she is.
Rachel Carey.
Sorry, asshole. I don't talk to strangers.
GUNSHOTS
Argh!
GUNSHOTS
ELECTRICITY CRACKLES
Argh!
What have I got to do to short-circuit this prick?! Wizard!
- Argh! - Wizard! Gun! Wizard, you chicken shit! Get the fucking gun!
Argh!
ELECTRICITY CRACKLES
No hard feelings, eh, Frank?
That shit I gave you, before...
..about being a Scarecrow?
You deserve better than that.
GUN CLICKS
GUNSHOT
You're not the only one who's been left out in the field, Frank!
I guess we all get left out in the field...in the end...
BANGING ON DOOR
Wizard, you traitorous piece of shit, open the door!
Wizard, you motherless prick! Open the fucking door!
At least you can't say nobody said it, Frank.
Frank...
Thank you for your service.
GUNSHOT
# Well, Reverend, Reverend
# Please come quick...
CRASHING
# ..Cos I got something to admit
# I met a man out in the sticks
# A good old miss
# Let me learn ya some, I know a few
# Turns to make all the girls dance
# Don't you know the devil
# Wears a suit and tie
# I saw him driving down the 61 in early July
# White as a cotton field and sharp as a knife
# I heard him howlin' as he passed me by
# Don't you know the devil wears a suit and tie
# Saw him driving down the 61 in early July
# White as a cotton field and sharp as a knife
# I heard him howlin' as he passed me by
# Well, the devil wears a suit and tie
# I saw him driving down the 61 in early July
# White as a cotton field and sharp as a knife
# I heard him howlin' as he passed me by. #