This one will give a red alarm.
Medical isotopes,
all standard. Don't fret.
- Sir? - Hmm?
- It isn't. - What?
Giving a red, sir.
The cargo's bloody radioactive, it's got to give a red.
Christ. The whole system's down.
Get the Senior. Now!
Mr. Sutherland is already under pressure to declare an inquiry into
whether exploratory gas-field drilling by the Chinese mining conglomerate Jiayóu
might have played a role in disturbing the buried munitions ship
which caused such devastating tragedy in Kent.
And of course, Mr. Sutherland is also facing demands for answers...
Anna, Eleanor has an emergency briefing for us on the ports.
...of Ukrainian businessman Mikhailo Kostenko.
So perhaps, it's not particularly surprising
that the exoneration of the government over the J23 shootings in the Singer Report
is being met with significant skepticism from various quarters.
Earlier, I spoke to the leader of the opposition, Chris Edwards.
The Lord Singer report is a disgraceful attempt
to give the illusion of transparency and credibility to a desperate Tory government,
which frankly, has demonstrated neither, and which knows
it is losing the trust of the British people by the day.
- Robert? - Chris Edwards there,
and we'll have more on that story later on this afternoon.
When we're done here, we need to discuss candidates.
- There's the Kent by-election-- - That's hardly pressing.
Even so, if you have preferences, what is pressing, and actually bloody urgent--
- Foreign Secretary? - Precisely.
And I assumed under the circumstances, the last thing you'd want
- is a reshuffle, so-- - Archie.
- Is that a joke? - Not the time.
- It's a wrong decision. - The man's a--
Duly noted.
We had to close the Port of Dover an hour ago,
when it became apparent the Cyclamen scanners had been incapacitated.
- Cyclamen? - -The huge fixed scanners at every UK port
and airport to detect radioactive freight.
Cyclamen is our frontline defense against the smuggling of nuclear contraband.
Which is our only net to catch terrorists driving a dirty bomb into the country.
We've ascertained that the total system failure at Dover
is the result of a massive ongoing cyber-attack.
So, who's doing this?
Is it part of the Ruin Britannia hack?
I am currently unable to provide an assessment.
We've identified none of the same hallmarks as yet, but it could be the same group.
But until our capacity for monitoring nuclear material is back online,
we can't let anyone through.
So far, Dover's the only port affected, right?
- No other border-point? - So far.
Nonetheless, Dover's critical for supply-chains.
Sealing it for any length of time risks massive disruption.
- How quickly can it be unsealed? - -GCHQ have three teams on it.
But I'm afraid at the moment-- - You are unable to provide an assessment?
At what point are we going to have to deal with shortages?
The immediate concern is fresh produce.
We've already instigated contingencies, but...
the closure of a major port's going to be all over the lunchtime news,
and even if we don't face a supply crisis--
We'll face panic-buying.
People are people.
Well, we can be front-footed to head off panic.
What I find deeply disturbing
is that, if it weren't for a lucky catch,
we could be hunting for a dirty bomb.
I'm afraid we, um...
We can't yet be totally certain.
There was a window
between the system failing and the Border Force realizing it was down.
How big a window?
Five hours.
During which, 1,027 vehicles passed through Cyclamen
- without an accurate scan. - Jesus Christ!
I've already initiated a situation room.
We need to issue a statement about the closure.
About the closure, yes. Nothing else.
The priority must be to maintain public calm.
I want these vehicles found and scanned.
I want the cyber-attack neutralized. I want to know where it,
where all of these attacks have come from.
And I want that port open again before there's riots in Tesco.
Hey.
- Is this all of them? - Uh-huh.
Every vehicle which entered while Cyclamen was down, clustered by destination.
We've issued regional forces with a full alert.
All right, but we also need to group by origin.
Yep, which is in this array.
Always one step ahead.
- You okay? - I'm fine.
It's just...
I didn't expect you back to work so soon-- - I said I'm fine.
The doctors said I'm fine, I want to work, and you are not my real dad.
We're running every point of origin against the Foreign Office's risk index.
Then we sort the vehicles by potential threat.
What?
With a cyber attack on our nuclear scanners, I'm just
forcing myself not to dwell on what the word “threat” means today.
I just think there are more pressing needs on our attention.
Well, I'm afraid I think the appointment of a Foreign Secretary
- is about as pressing as it gets. - I'm not prepared to--
To what? To listen to reason?
Bad enough you give Archie back the whip, but Foreign Secretary?
You may think it throws a bone to the fringe right,
but all it's going to do is make them hungrier.
They'll smell weakness on you.
Is that what you smell?
Look. My only concern here is...
- Yes. - -Mr Glover-Morgan, Prime Minister.
Send him in.
Who looks weak, Anna?
The man who waves the bone, or the dog who comes drooling?
It's a question of who bites whom first.
- Anna! How delightful-- - Fuck off.
I've always said she brings such warmth to the workplace.
Black, no sugar as I recall.
I know you're a busy man, Robert.
What, with the country coming apart at the seams.
So, why the tummy-tickle?
Think of it more as a...
civility towards a potential cabinet colleague.
Then never mind the tummy.
- I'm all ears. - I'm offering you Foreign Secretary.
As I recall, when I suggested as much,
- you scoffed. - This country is under attack, Archie.
I'm on the verge of a War Cabinet.
Bask all you like, but I need experienced comrades.
Comrades, indeed.
Personal sentiments are immaterial,
as regards my duty to provide this country
with its best possible government. One in which you
would be a most valued asset.
Then I suppose,
since duty calls,
I must accept.
Jessie?
- Did you see who delivered this? - It was just with the other post.
No stamp, no postmark.
It was hand-delivered, but you didn't see who?
Intel flagged it immediately. Origin: Ukraine.
Ukraine's risk-index was elevated to high
after the assassination of Mikhailo Kostenko.
The truck's cargo manifest states “Produce,” but the haulage firm
has never exported to the UK before.
Is this our potential threat?
MI5 are calling maximum priority.
If we have to evacuate, what sort of numbers?
Vehicle's almost at destination, industrial park outside of Nottingham.
It's sparse, only half occupied.
Small mercies.
Cut the engine, sir.
Tell them to keep the public away, please.
Confirmed presence of irradiated mass.
Registering high levels of beta-ray emission,
some measurable gamma-ray emission.
What are they doing there?
I said keep the public away, please!
Profile suggests probable presence of caesium-137,
and...
What the fuck?
Berries?
Repeat. Cargo appears to be radioactive berries.
Get those crates opened and check for anything concealed.
The berries were ordered by a wholesaler
whose regular provider was unable to deliver on time,
on account of the massively reduced transit across the Channel. But...
what the wholesaler didn't realize
is that the berries were grown in Polesia.
A region of Ukraine.
Technically, outside the Exclusion Zone, but-- - "Exclusion"?
Of Chernobyl.
The soil there is still irradiated.
The cargo has been quarantined. It'll be safely destroyed.
Even so, if this gets out,
years of pleading with the public
to eat their five-a-day straight down the crapper.
We believe the nature of the cargo is secure,
but phone footage of the truck, police,
military, may soon be in the wild.
So we simply state that the government doesn't comment on security matters.
Which makes it clear as day there's a “security matter.”
Then slap the press with a D-notice.
These days, we call them "DSMA-Notices,"
should you wish to update your frames of reference from 1945.
We'll have to say something, surely.
If there's footage, it's bound to get out.
Robert, you said yourself, we need to be front-footed.
I said our primary concern should be neutralizing fear and panic.
I agree with Archie.
We don't comment on it. We give them something else,
such as telling them when the port will reopen. So...
When will the port reopen?
- Hopefully, within 24 hours. - "Hopefully"?
With respect, I think we were all hoping for something a little less wishy-washy.
And how many more trucks left to scan?
Before we're at least through that crisis.
Four hundred and seventy.
Get to work.
Of course I want back in.
But I'd just sooner run for a seat I've got a chance of winning.
Well, before Clive Turner won it, that seat was Labor's.
What's stopping it from being Labor again?
I'm a black woman, and apparently, a member of...
- What are we called now? The liberal London elite. - Right.
Well, I'd suggest that your opinion that the electorate are a bunch of racist bumpkins
is something we maybe leave off the pamphlets, but--
- Okay, that's not what I meant. - I know what you meant.
But you don't believe it any more than I do. You're just...
- You're just gun-shy. - "Gun-shy"?
Yes, it's been a while since you campaigned.
- How dare you-- - No, I mean it. Listen,
I'll tell you exactly why I think you can win the by-election.
Right now, that constituency is shell-shocked and it's flooded.
Why? Because the Tories have flogged our gas-fields to a Chinese multinational
- which caused an explosion. - I thought the drilling thing hadn't been proven yet.
Yeah, but why have they rescinded the contract? Now, if that wasn't enough,
Dover Port is shut.
Total chaos, by the sound of things, massive tailbacks,
right on the doorstep of the very same constituency.
Due to some sort of system failure.
Why? Because the Tories have grotesquely underinvested in infrastructure.
Now, if you lived there...
would you not be ready for change?
Listen, I tell you what.
Why don't we just sketch out, just hypothetically,
some sort of
strategy.
Might be able to get a whiff of who the other side are fielding.
And how are we going to do that?
Well, you know Anna Marshall, don't you?
You know full bloody well we haven't spoken in months.
I'm not going to reach out to her now just so I can milk her for information.
What's up, Mum?
Uh, nothing really, I just wanted to check in.
Not dying, are you?
Very funny.
Are you at home for supper? I thought we could get a takeaway.
Uh, I'm going to Dad's.
Oh, okay.
- Well, I'll-- - I've got to go, um...
Oh, wait. Um...
Is there something weird going on with, like, fruit or something?
- What? - Um, before you called, um,
someone on Twitch got it off 4chan or something.
Saying like the police found a load of,
poisoned berries or something, and I-- - Uh, there's nothing, darling.
And you know 4chan's for pedos and Hitler Youth.
Look, I've gotta go. Love you.
For fuck's sake!
You wanted to see a shortlist of my preferred candidates,
and now you have one. I don't see the problem.
Except for all of them being on the hard right of the hard right?
And Roger Hawkins? For Christ's sake!
You want to restore the whip to Roger Hawkins?
Who else in the People's Justice Independents are you intending to bribe back?
- Our party must be a broad church, Anna. - Robert, don't!
We both know bloody well what this is about.
You're afraid of losing Clive Turner's constituency,
and you think one of these embarrassing cretins will galvanize the angry white vote.
A vote is a vote, a seat is a seat, and politics requires power.
Now I've told you before, Anna, you were always an Archangel--
Don't throw your bloody utilitarianism textbook at me again, because this
is realpolitik.
- And it's grubby, Robert. - Anna...
This is not our conservatism.
Maybe you haven't noticed, but right now,
from every direction, we are facing a different storm.
One of which is the distrust surrounding the Singer Report.
Now, who better to vouch for that report than the former Home Secretary?
So convinced of that report's integrity
that he has rescinded his resignation.
Now, look. You don't like Archie, Archie doesn't like you.
But I suggest you stop letting your personal grievance--
My what? How dare you!
You're right. I detest Archie.
But I have never let any “personal grievance” warp my judgment.
And my judgment is you're a fool if you think you can trust him,
because he will be waiting with a polished knife the moment your back is turned.
Apologies for dragging you from your IT crowd.
Not at all, Foreign Secretary. What could be less important
- than the security-- - Of the nation, yes, precisely.
However, while this cyber-assault is unconscionable,
we are currently fire-fighting on multiple fronts.
And I intend to face them with a big gushing hose.
- He's over-compensating. - You hardly need to explain that to the Head of Intelligence.
Well, here's something I apparently do need to explain.
We are lumbering towards a diplomatic crisis with the Chinese
over the explosion in Kent. Peter.
The Chinese mining company, of course, flatly denies
that the explosion was the result of them sticking their drill-bit
into our Great British Seabed.
Meanwhile,
an editorial in yesterday's Central Times.
I'll save you the trouble of reading the appalling translation.
It says the British want to blame the Chinese
to cover up our own incompetence
at not defusing the ship years ago.
And it is calling for “a retaliation,
both public and painful.”
I've received a formal complaint from the Chinese ambassador,
whom I am obliged to meet.
And when I do so, I want a full deck,
vis-à-vis who or what caused the explosion.
I want evidence. Understood?
All our assets are trying--
Are they more reliable than the assets you employed for that briefing on the Russians?
Because from what I can gather, their usefulness
was several thousand degrees south of sub-optimal.
- Minister, with respect-- - I don't want Chinese whispers.
As I say...
a full deck.
A big hose.
Fraser? You need to look at this.
So, after the blueberries, what's next on the menu?
Strontium sausages?
- Plutonium pomegranates? - One of the vehicles,
something's just off with its data.
I can't find any trace of the haulier. Now, it might be human error, but...
Get it to Eleanor James.
Hello, stranger.
I'm glad you called.
I've missed you.
That's good to hear.
Say it.
I'll think about it.
Can I ask you something?
Business?
Then let's get it out of the way before the second bottle.
Chris Edwards wants me back in parliament.
- I want you back in parliament. - He wants me to run for Clive Turner's seat.
Pack your snorkel.
Oh, my God, I'm a horrible person!
Nah, there are worse. I mean, to be fair, they're all in your party, but...
Anna, who are your lot putting up for the seat?
Is that what this is about?
- Why you called. - If it was, I would've been much more subtle.
Or your expert guile is the illusion of having none.
Chris asked me to get back in touch to find out who you were running.
I said no.
Then I realized I wanted to anyway,
because I missed you, too.
Robert and I have been squaring off over it.
His first choice is Roger Hawkins.
- Are you taking the piss? - I fucking wish.
But listen here, young lady. If Robert continues
to ignore my expert counsel, and if you decide to contest,
Roger will make it a dirty fight.
He'll play the populist card, blow every dog-whistle.
Are you trying to put me off?
- Is this guile? - Fran, my love, don't make me call you an idiot again.
I'm giving you reasons you should run,
and wipe the smug grin off Hawkins' ruddy face.
Go for the seat.
Win it.
You'd have my vote.
This is what the liar government and mainstream media don't want you to see.
Radiation detectors. Because our nation is secretly under attack.
Nuclear attack. The corrupt traitor Sutherland and his globalist stooges
want to hide it from us. Hide their weakness,
their complicity in the death of our great country.
And until this government is overthrown by whatever means necessary,
they would have us feed poison to our children
sooner than tell us the truth.
These nuclear poison-berries came to Britain directly from Ukraine, through Dover.
- Still working? - Big case.
You'll win.
Is that by decree of Her Majesty's Government?
No, you'll win because you're a brilliant lawyer,
and spectacular woman.
But if I did have to bend this country's
noble and ancient democratic institutions for the sake of your affections...
Only you could make brutal dictatorship sound so romantic.
Well, in the meantime, I can offer to make you
- a cup of tea. - Ooh, yes.
- Eleanor. - Hi, uh, sorry it's late,
but I thought you'd want an update on Cyclamen.
We've captured the malware.
- So the border can re-open? - Imminently.
Oh, thank Christ for that.
- Well done. - I do need to update you on something else.
We've been monitoring various online channels,
and footage of that truck from at least four devices
has spread like bloody measles. The open-sourcers
have identified the radioactivity apparatus.
There's a new far-right online presence, "Firestorm."
They have been consistently pointing the finger at government.
I wouldn't normally bother you with conspiracy theorists, but they're not far off the truth,
- and gaining traction. - Christ!
Look, the silence from government
is only adding fuel to it.
We need to formulate some kind of explanation
take back control of the narrative.
Those vehicles that got through,
are they all accounted for?
No, not quite. There are nine as yet un-scanned.
Well, when they are scanned and when we're in the clear, and only then,
- I shall make a statement. - Prime Minister--
The only way to counteract panic and probably outright bloody mayhem
is by stating that we have overcome the situation,
that our defense apparatus works.
We convene COBRA in the morning, assess the state of risk,
and strategize on that basis.
Well with respect, Prime Minister, I don't think--
Goodnight, Eleanor.
These nuclear poison-berries came to Britain directly from Ukraine through Dover.
The port, which is now closed,
but the government refused to tell us why.
A government impotent and venal, which does nothing
while Foreign enemies trample our borders and ruin our land.
Our investigations have revealed that these--
This is an unexpected pleasure.
Hari, have you got a minute? I need your advice. Off the record.
I mean, you're taking me away from alt-right nutters, but-- - What?
- Uh, nothing. Talk to me. - All right.
If I, hypothetically speaking, if I ran in a by-election,
- could I count on your support? - Hypothetical support?
Your platform has traction. The support would carry weight.
Question, unrelated:
what's going on in Dover? Something to do with radiation?
People aren't buying the government line. Do you know why it's closed?
- No. Why? - Doesn't matter. I just, uh--
Well, listen, what I was asking is just,
well, would you back me?
Holy shit.
Hari?
Hello, Hari-- - Look, Francine, I'd back you in a bi-election
or a bloody general election. I'll give all the signal-boost I can.
But I'm sorry, I have to go.
- God! Don't you ever sleep? - No.
And you'd better wake up too because we might have a big problem.
- I just sent you the link. - What problem?
- Look at it. - All right! Wait, wait...
What is this?
Did you know your wife did legal for Mikhailo Kostenko?
Of course I didn't bloody know.
This is June 97. We hadn't even met.
- "Kickbacks"? - So it bloody seems.
The scoop of the day is that the PM's wife was on the legal team
which gave bungs on behalf of a Ukrainian gangster.
Shit.
What is it? What's going on?
I have never seen any of these documents before.
I need the truth.
That is the truth.
Then what the fuck is this?
This deal was over 20 years ago.
I was barely even an associate.
I never met Kostenko, I just...
I didn't know anything about kickbacks!
- Please believe me. - I-I want to believe you Rachel,
but maybe you can explain to me why...
Why you didn't think it worth mentioning
that Kostenko's name crops up in your career history.
I mean, what with his murky assassination being all over the news lately, and me,
your husband, being the Prime fucking Minister.
Because it was a deal from a long time ago that I played a tiny part in,
and I didn't know there was anything illegal about it
until you waved this fucking smear in my face.
Because that's what this is, Robert. A smear, and...
None of this poison proves I did anything wrong. Because I didn't!
But it's still poison.
But Number Ten are yet to comment on the alleged association
between Mrs. Sutherland and the recently deceased Ukrainian businessman
Mikhailo Kostenko.
Hello.
Mrs. Sutherland, I'm calling again from the Sun.
Look, I've already told you, no comment. And I've already blocked your number three times.
So please, just leave me alone!
My God. She's finally speechless.
The situation room have cleared all but one of the trucks.
It's the one they flagged up yesterday as having dodgy paperwork,
that's why it's proving difficult to track down.
- And the haulier doesn't even exist. - Okay, let's get it found.
All forces nationwide make this their priority.
Robert, we have to talk about Rachel.
We need to discuss the way through this-- - No, we don't, Anna.
People think they are under nuclear attack,
we have to give them some reassurance.
I-I know I pushed against this before, but...
I believe I was wrong.
I'll make a statement outside Downing Street.
I'll explain about Cyclamen and the fucking blueberries.
I'll make it clear that Dover will open again immediately,
and the few vehicles that did get through while the system was down
are all accounted for. There is no danger.
- Have they been? - Has what been?
The trucks. All accounted for.
All except one. But I'm prepared to take a chance they will be.
Because as far as I can see, this is the least worst option.
I'm afraid I don't think it is.
If there's only one truck left to find,
we wait until it's found.
I know the...
the situation with Rachel makes you want to show strength,
but I think you, all of us, need to hold our nerve.
We have a Cobra now about the disruption across the country.
Let's get all the facts before we react.
When the vehicles are all accounted for, then you make a statement.
With strength.
Shops are being cleared of tinned goods.
Sales of fresh produce cratering.
Well, it takes the pressure off the supply line.
And at least Intelligence have finally managed
to change the fuse in the Cyclamen scanners.
I'm sure the technicians at GCHQ will be cheered by your support.
Eleven hospitals have admitted patients
for drinking antiseptic and disinfectant.
Supermarket in Bradford. The man was shouting that all fruit and vegetables
are “nuclear poison” and that he can make them safe.
Store was evacuated.
The liquid the man is spraying turns out to be an iodine-based detergent.
- We're also seeing aggressive mobs at ports. - Ports?
- Only Dover was shut. - Well, that's just it.
They're not at Dover, it's the other ports.
The open ports, we're seeing the mobs.
They're convinced that terrorists are bringing in nuclear God-knows-what.
Apologies for the interruption, but you need to see this.
The final vehicle, the one we couldn't find, it was deliberate.
Fake plates, fake papers. They've found it.
Where is it, Fraser?
Beneath Waterloo.
It, um...
It doesn't look good.
We've no idea how it got there.
It's in a sealed-off maintenance area
with no public access.
A Military CBRN team are going in to investigate.
We have a visual on suspect vehicle.
How did this truck just appear?
Didn't CCTV pick it up?
Whoever left the vehicle, took it out.
Specialist, approach with caution.
Alpha-wave radiation detected.
This is high. It... It's extremely high.
Radioactivity levels are off the scale.
We need to seal off Central London.
There's no way we can do this quietly.
Do it then.
Initiating breach for video probe access.
Cyclamen.
This is what it was all for, isn't it?
To get that truck into the country.
That is now our working hypothesis.
Oh.
Inspection camera uplink ready.
Please activate the feed.
Zero visibility. Switch to infra-red.
We're getting a visual.
What is it?
Adjust infra-red strength.
What's he seeing?
Standby.
The truck contains what appears to be...
a human body.
The body is the irradiating mass.
Can't we just admit that this is a clear message
that our security apparatus is completely inadequate?
Get it out of there.
Make it safe.
I want to know who it is...
and how it got there.
And I want to know if...
if this country needs to be ready for war.