When we draw an angle down through a rectangle,
we of course reveal two triangles.
One angle will always be 90 degrees.
-Simple. -Don't get too smug, mate.
One day, you'll be replaced by the lovely Lorraine Kelly.
Exactly like Sam's.
Exact in every way.
And in each case, it was a full recovery,
with no cognitive functions affected for the long term.
Why should being comatose this long have any mental side-effects?
The mind's a fragile thing, who's to say what's been damaged?
Maybe not cognitive skills, but other things...
The sense of judgement. What d'you think?
There's no evidence to suggest any decline.
What're you basing your theory on? Guesswork?
No, Dr Matthews, it's called "instinct".
Instinct?
But I'm telling you. He's not gonna come out of this all well.
Don't listen to him. He's talking bollocks.
He's basing this on a hunch, for Christ's sake!
What do you think, Sam? How's your sense of judgement?
Jesus, just tell me my brain will be alright!
Say something, come on.
Come on!
Sam? It's me, Annie.
We don't have to stop at the one bisection.
Take the cube.
Guv's waiting outside. Phyllis just took a call.
IRA!
A bomb's been planted outside a school, we've got 15 minutes.
-Dynamite! -Shit.
Dynamite?!
Why do they have to bomb our city?
Why can't they blow up somewhere else, like Cleethorpes?
Guv, this doesn't make sense.
What part of "will explode in 15 minutes"
are you finding hard to grasp?
It can't be the IRA.
They don't use dynamite.
They never will.
I mean... have.
That bomb that went off last month in London,
Weed killer and sugar.
That's their hallmark. They use home-made explosives, not dynamite.
It's not the IRA. It's not a bomb.
Come on, quick, move it.
Alright, love.
-Any news from bomb squad? -Still engaged, guv.
Bloody hell.
It's over ten minutes.
I make it nearly ten.
I make nearly eleven.
I make it eleven and three seconds.
Sure yours is right?
-Might be a delay on it. -Give it a few more minutes.
There isn't a delay on it, because there isn't a bomb.
-It's a hoax. -What, and you're sure?
There were no other political groups bombing mainland Britain in 1973.
Fact.
Trust me on this, I know it, I know this.
What the hell do I have to do to get you people to believe me?
Well, if you're so sure, boss,
why don't you go over and check it out?
Alright, I will.
He'd do anything to try and impress you, wouldn't he?
It's not about impressing anyone, you moron.
Whatever you say, boss.
Oh, no, I get it.
You wanna be the hero, don't you?
Well, go on then, big man. It's all yours.
I didn't say that.
So what's the matter now, Ray? Is your bottle gone?
When you're quite finished, ladies...
No, you are right.
I haven't got anything to prove.
Ray.
No, guv, he'll be alright. Won't you, Ray? Go on.
My name is Sam Tyler.
I had an accident and I woke up in 1973.
Am I mad? In a coma? Or back in time?
Whatever's happened, it's like I've landed on a different planet.
Now maybe if I can work out a reason, I can get home.
Series Two Episode Three
The next time you know something, Tyler...
You keep it to yourself.
That's an order.
You want to give to Ray's collection?
Thanks, Jeff.
Thanks, Karl.
-Is that for Ray? -Yeah.
It's just his mates putting in.
Annie. Look, I thought...
I know I was right.
It's not the IRA.
Look. I had to investigate terrorist methods as part of my training.
Well, it doesn't look like they trained you very well, does it?
Look, I know about now.
They've got Semtex, right?
They don't use that until 1986, South Armargh.
Mainland Britain? It's not until the early 90s.
Early 90s?
How would I know that? Because I remember it, that's how!
Sam, I don't give a damn about Semtex.
You were wrong about the hoax.
You have to remember we work for each other, around here.
Not against.
When you're finished beating the walls up,
some explosives have gone missing from a builder's yard in Salford.
Let's see if we can investigate without putting any officers in danger, shall we?
How's Ray?
Oh, he's champion.
He'll do back-flips on the dance-floor at Rotters tonight.
You know, the usual thing you do when you've been caught in an IRA bomb blast.
I still don't think it was the IRA.
How do you think I spend my time here, Tyler?
-Building a Death Star? -You what?
Nothing.
By listening to the sound of the cogs in the machine
going round and round all day.
Only your cog's out of sync with the rest of us.
Has been since you rode in on your big Hyde horse.
Either you get in sync, or I find another cog.
-Frank Miller? -That's me.
DCI Hunt, DI Tyler.
Could you show us where the explosives were taken from, sir?
Over here.
-Who else has access to this yard? -All sorts.
Drivers, suppliers, contractors.
How much dynamite are we talking about?
Fifty pound.
Enough to blow up a car?
Enough to blow up a whole building.
It'd only take a couple of pounds to blow up a car.
So somewhere, out there,
there's over 48 pound of dynamite waiting to go off.
When d'you think it could've been taken?
Must've been last night. I wasn't here yesterday.
Daughter's graduation.
If you weren't here yesterday, it could have been taken the night before last.
No, I'm sure one of the lads would've noticed this had been broken into.
They would've said something.
This hasn't got anything to do with that IRA bomb going off, is it?
It hasn't been confirmed that the IRA were responsible for that explosion.
Anyway. Better late than never, Mr Miller.
Frank, please.
If you wanna search the place, help yourself.
Only, maybe don't let on it was me who called you.
It's mostly Irish fellas working for me here.
I don't want 'em to get the wrong end of the stick. I rely on them a lot.
Don't you worry, Frank. Discretion is our middle name.
Top of the morning to you, lads.
Know anything about some missing dynamite?
Fuck off.
Alpha One to base.
Phyllis, get a unit over to Miller's yard.
Get 'em to hold a lot of Paddies for questioning. Over.
Guv. If you piss off these Irish workers,
you just piss off the whole community, and then we'll get nowhere.
We have to trade carefully.
Some bastards somewhere have got over 40 pound in dynamite
which they could use to blow up innocent people.
Just like they did to Ray.
And you're asking me to trade carefully?
Take your own advice, Sam. Wake up and smell the coco!
Now let's search this shit, I wanna nail these Paddy bastards.
It's coffee.
Alright then, sulky bollocks.
If it wasn't the IRA or any other terrorist group,
who blew up that car, then?
A WI?
No idea.
"Rights of Irish immigrants".
"Rallies, meetings, want to set up unions yourself?"
The regular Karl old Marx by the looks of it.
It's just street names.
I'll get Chris to check 'em out.
If he's still talking to me.
Well, well, well, Sammy-boy.
Looks like we might able to stop this this scum from bombing again.
You know, just because he's politically active
doesn't necessarily mean he wants to start blowing everybody up.
It does if he's called Patrick O'Brien.
And it just so happens he hasn't turned in for work today.
Back in 69, we got him sent down for two years. Robbery.
So why is he suddenly a suspect?
Let's have a think, shall we? Paddy.
Puts the Trotskies about, him more lip than Mick Jagger, previous,
happens to be working on the same site when a lot of dynamite goes AWOL.
Oh and a bomb goes off in the city.
Alright then, genius. What's your theory?
I don't have one yet.
You can't just go on a hunch.
Forgive me if I don't go along with your so-called facts.
But I'm hoping I'll still be in one piece by tea-time.
All I'm saying,
is maybe it's got nothing to do with him.
Maybe Enoch Powell's throwing one up Shirley Bassey.
Let me know when you're back into the real world, Tyler.
If only.
Alpha One to base, come in over.
Receiving you, guv.
Phyllis, tell DC Skelton and Cartwright to get a unit together.
Get 'em to bring in anyone who knows Patrick O'Brien.
We need all the leads we can get on the missing explosives.
Get on to it.
It might be an idea if they go through all the Os in the phone book.
Hey, I'll tell you what. While we're at it,
why don't we pull in that well-known terrorist suspect, Dana?
How about Val Doonican?
Guv, remember.
Go easy, yeah?
And you remember. I don't let Ray down,
or the people of this city.
Hello, love. Where is he, then? O'Brien!
I know what you're thinking, love.
If he was a bit more assertive, he'd go far.
Where are you, you scum?
O'Brien? He don't live here anymore.
Hasn't lived here for months.
I made him sling his hook, never paid his lodgings.
Where is he, then?
Probably down the ale house, I don't know.
Wherever he is, you can bet your boots he's up to no good.
I wouldn't trust any of them,
'specially not since this bomb going off.
I'm not letting one of them set a foot in this house again, that's for sure.
Have you actually seen Mr O'Brien do anything suspicious?
Did you hear him talking to his Paddy mates?
Not exactly, no.
But his eyes are close together.
That's always a sign of someone shifty.
You're not staying for a brew?
No, thanks love. Better crack on.
-We're looking for a Paddy... -I haven't seen him.
Bloody filth!
Friendly bunch, aren't they?
Where to, now?
Fiddler's Green.
I hope that's the name of a pub.
Change of plan.
Right!
Let's get in amongst the leprechauns.
We're all fed up
being paid less than the English for doing exactly the same job.
And they don't wanna know about our union.
We shouldn't have to take the shit from these bastards anymore.
They kick us when we're down and we never kick back!
It's about time we start to kick 'em...
Well, this all looks very cosy, gents.
Irish meeting circle, is it?
What'd you want?
I want your bollocks nailed to the nearest gatepost, O'Brien.
In the meantime, you're coming with me.
I've done nothing wrong!
Alright, lads.
We just want ask Mr O'Brien a few questions, that's all.
Yeah, come.
You're an even bigger bastard than I remember.
Maybe your memory's playing tricks on you.
No, you're right.
I am a bigger bastard.
Back!
You lot, calm down or I'll make you all strip
and you can stand here with our knackers out!
I could do with a laugh.
Another one for your assignment, Phyllis.
Don't mind if we push in, do you, lads?
Nice to be back, is it, O'Brien?
Tell me, is Hunt Rhyming Slang?
Take him away.
What's going on?
I've got no men at my yard.
They're all down here!
I could lose contracts if they won't finish the job.
Would you say you are thorough in your work, Mr Miller?
-'Course I am. -Snap.
You'll have 'em back when I'm finished questioning them.
Most of these are decent lads.
I don't think they have ought to do with the IRA or the missing dynamite.
Most? What about O'Brien?
Now you put your words into my mouth.
You'll be alright, lads. I'll see you back at the yard.
Remind me why we're not questioning everyone that works at Miller's place,
not just the Irish.
Explosives fella's just been on, guv.
Dynamite used to blow the car matches the dynamite from Miller's yard.
Same make.
That's why. Chris?
Check out the list of street names we found in O'Brien's locker.
Let's nail this bastard.
Okay, guv.
Right. I've got all your names. They'd better be true.
Especially you, 'cause you look shifty.
Why weren't you in work today?
I had to be at the meeting.
It's funny that. Some dynamite goes missing from the place where you work,
and the next day, you don't show up there.
What've you done with that, O'Brien?
I'm saying nothing.
Come on, pal. You're not helping yourself, here.
How can you prove your innocence if you won't cooperate?
Who says he's innocent?
"Innocent until proven guilty", does that ring any bells?
The law doesn't apply to maggots like him.
Come on, O'Brien, stop pissing us about.
What's your role, eh?
Are you the monkey or the organ grinder.
Who was making the calls, planting the bombs?
I want names, now.
Two names, right? That's your lot.
That's your main man.
-P. McGinty? -Aye.
It was me that does all the leg work.
Have a nasty kick, this, mate.
Paddy McGinty's Goat.
That's very clever, O'Brien.
Very funny, you know.
You should be in the Wheel Tappers and Shunters.
You'd being sat here chocking on your own porridge if I had my say in it,
twisted piece of shit!
Let me hit him, just once!
Another call's come through, guv.
Shit.
IRA. Same accent. Dynamite under a car,
outside the Three Ships. Goes off in 15 minutes.
-Code word? -There wasn't one.
Make of car?
They said it was up to us to find it.
Bastards.
Phyllis, from now on you stay behind the desk.
Only you are to answer the phone.
-What if I need to go to the ladies? -Cross your legs.
Where's the bloody bomb squad, Phyllis?
They're on their way from a hoax call in Abbey Hey, guv/
They'll be with you as soon as they can. Over.
By which time it might be too late.
Guv?
Got any pliers?
You've done this before?
Once, at Hyde. And...
Well, I'm still here, aren't I?
A dead moron's no use to anyone.
Come on, think.
Come on, you know this.
No rush, Tyler. Got about...
22 seconds before all blows sky high.
It's the red.
I'm sure it is.
I knew it was the red. I just couldn't...
Couldn't remember.
Still don't think it's down to the IRA?
I'm not sure.
But it can't be O'Brien making the calls.
Tenner says he knows who is, though.
He's involved, I know he is.
How?
Boss.
That was one of the street names on O'Brien's list.
You sicking old bastard.
Where's the next one gonna go off?
Look, I don't know what you're talking about.
Don't get up!
You had the name of the pissing street written down.
'Cause they're just streets that we'd had jobs on!
So where are you and your IRA mates planning the next job, eh?
-Stop. -Can't!
It's all you English can do.
-Have done for centuries. -Well I'm all for tradition me.
That's enough.
-Where is the bomb? -I said, that's enough!
If you carry on like this,
you won't get any evidence because the suspect will be dead.
You can't demean a man before he's even been tried, for Christ's sake.
-Because I know he's guilty! -And what if he's innocent?
What if he gets sent down and the conviction's overturned?
Because then, you may as well become a recruitment officer
for the bloody terrorists!
And as for the public's faith in the police,
no one will trust us. No one.
We're the police, everybody trust us!
Not where I come from, they don't.
Not if they're all bloody like you, eh.
We need to get him to a hospital.
Shame you didn't show the same concern for your colleague earlier.
I don't need this shit.
I'll call an ambulance on my way out.
If you think I'm gonna let you walk away from this investigation,
then you're in for a bigger disappointment than the day
we found out that the plonk Doris Bangs was a name and not a promise.
-Usual, mon brave? -Large, usual.
Coming up.
O'Brien's behind those bombs. All we have to do...
Okay?
Thought the docs'd send you off for a few weeks, mate.
They did.
I wanted to come back and catch the bastard that did this to me.
I'm really sorry, mate.
You know, until now,
Colin Bell was what I called a hero.
Not anymore.
Nelson, get the man a drink.
Cheers, guv.
Good to have you back, mate.
You're okay?
Ray, you're okay?
Yeah, fine. I'm fine.
Guv.
He shouldn't be here.
He's got PTSD.
The man's a bloody hero, and you're accusing him of having the clap?
Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.
I've seen it before.
He needs counselling, someone to talk to.
He's a police officer, not a fairy.
Nelson, Scotch.
Go, Raymondo. Chaser.
Red lorry, yellow lorry, red lorry, yellow lorry.
What'd you want?
Red wire, yellow wire.
Stop.
Come on Sam, you try it.
Red wire, yellow wire.
Come on, you know everything, Sam.
So clever.
Just leave me.
You're always right.
Pick one.
You pick the right one, it proves you were right.
It's okay, Sam. I know you'll pick the right one.
Go with your instinct.
Bang!
You're dead, Sam.
Oh, dear. You and how many others?
Don't you ever knock?
What, have you got a bird in here? Where're you going?
-Back to the start. -What for?
-I've no idea. -Forget it.
D'you want the bad news or the bad news?
O'Brien's gone missing from the hospital.
Shit.
If that's not a sign of guilt, I don't know what it is.
-What's the other bad news? -Call's just come through.
IRA. Said the next one's gonna be the big one. 2 pm on the dot.
Bastards didn't say where, though.
That's four hours from now.
The IRA don't give that much notice.
There's been no code words...
Something about this doesn't feel right, guv.
A bit like it didn't feel right when the hoax bomb nearly killed Ray?
We find O'brien, we find the bomb. Shall we?
This is gonna make things worse.
Not if we find him.
Everyone's in a panic,
everyone's scared 'cause they're dealing with the unknown.
Scared? Not my lot, Tyler.
This's more of a man in the back here, eh Ray?
Ray?
-Sorry? -You're up for it?
Too right, guv.
See? Bollocks of steel.
What do you think, Sam?
What do we do?
Did...
What do we do?
Take it easy, mate. Just...
What don't you give me the gun?
What?
The gun.
Right, we're gonna go in hard and fast.
When we're inside, we split into two teams.
DC Skelton, you're with Cartwright. Ray, you stick with DI Tyler.
Okay, good luck. Let's go.
Ray.
Just do as I say, alright? We don't want any mistakes.
Someone could get hurt.
Yeah, they could, couldn't they?
Right, you lot! Enough of the blarney, we're pulling you in for questioning.
Come on lads, take them away.
Where's O'Brien?
Bloody filth.
Please, follow me.
Ray!
I'll cut him off.
Ray, it's not O'Brien!
Ray, it's not O'Brien. I don't think he's armed.
-Got him in me eye line, boss. -You read me?
-What do we do? -Wait!
No!
Shit.
870. Phyllis, we need an ambulance at the Irish centre now.
I tried to warn you.
I said he wasn't armed.
You said you thought he wasn't armed.
I said "wait".
-What the hell happened? -I had to shoot, guv.
I told you to wait.
What else was I supposed to do?
At least I did something.
Or maybe you didn't hear me.
Bloody hell, it's like the blind leading the deaf.
Who do I believe?
Believe who you want, guv. Trust who you want.
Like I trusted DI Tyler before I got caught in the explosion.
Alright, we've got just over an hour.
We search every house in the area.
Only that lowlife O'Brien knows where the bomb's gonna go off.
Where are you going, Tyler?
No idea.
You are not walking away from this investigation.
We need to get him now, or people are gonna die.
I'm not walking away, I'm...
I just need time to think.
You haven't got time to piss about thinking!
Come on, you lot.
I'm...
I'm not really what you'd call a religious man...
Father.
I don't go to church, I don't pray...
I can't stand Cliff Richard.
This isn't even a confession.
It's just that...
Right now, I'm lost.
There's nobody else I can talk to.
Thing is, Father, I shouldn't even be here.
For now, anyway.
An innocent man was shot, today.
My instincts told me that he wasn't armed.
But I went against 'em, again.
And now, I'm sure I'm right about...
somebody else who's been accused of something I don't think they've done.
Trouble is...
I'm the only one who believes he's properly innocent.
I can't prove it.
So what do I do?
Go with what I know, the facts?
Or take a chance, trust my instincts?
If it's any help...
My instincts have never been wrong.
I knew you weren't a complete nut-job the first time I saw you.
But at least you're a nut-job.
You might be on my side, for a change.
I knew you didn't take those explosives.
What make you so sure I didn't? Apart from your instincts?
It just doesn't add up.
The IRA don't give the police a few hours notice to find a bomb.
There were no code words used...
The locker that was broken into at the yard, anyone could've broken into that.
Yet, somehow, you became the prime suspect.
Maybe somebody wanted the others to think that.
Like who?
No idea.
If I can find the answer to that,
maybe I can prove that you had nothing to do with it.
Tyler.
You really think you were talking to a priest before?
Sorry.
Smell of the whisky gave it away.
You ever met a priest, eh?
Look.
How can I trust you that you won't tell Hunt where I am?
'Cause I'm all you've got.
And right now, you're all I've got.
But...
Just in case...
No offence...
Father.
Right, we widen the search. All units stick together on this.
We've got... 40 minutes to find the bomb.
I want that bastard found, he's the key.
I'm following up another lead.
-What lead? -Miller's yard.
It's more of a hunch, really.
Will you come with me? Please?
I need someone to help me.
Annie, you're coming with us.
-Are you coming or what? -Yeah.
Sorry.
Mr Miller?
Frank?
Jesus. I thought you were Miller.
-Thought you'd be here. -Great minds...
The guv told me to find you. You'd better get back.
Or else what?
Well, he said something about
tearing out your scrotum and shoving it down your big smug gob
but don't let that sway you in any way.
Listen to what I've gotta say.
If you don't believe me, I'll come with you.
Now, just give me a minute and I will explain.
Thirty seconds.
Frank Miller is up to his eyeballs in debt.
But you wouldn't think it with the car that he drives,
the suits that he wears,
kids going to fee paying schools.
What does Frank Miller being in debt prove, though?
Look, I found this.
We were right.
O'Brien did work at that school,
where the first bomb went off. But so did Frank Miller. Look.
He's marked it on the map.
He kept it locked away in a drawer where he thought nobody would find it.
Come on, let's see what else we can find before the guv calls us.
These two are on O'Brien's list.
The bomb outside the school, the one outside the pub.
Clay Street, also on there.
So why is Kennel Road marked? That's not down here.
He's doing something there.
Look at these building plans.
Underground tunnels on Kennel Road.
Maybe Miller planted that list in O'Brien's locker.
Maybe he wants us to think that Clay Street is the next target.
When actually, it's Kennel Road.
What's worth bombing in these places?
Few offices on Clay St.,
few shops on Kennel Road.
A wimpy bar...
A bank.
He knows these tunnels.
Every access point, every close point of entry, because he helped build 'em.
That's what he needs the dynamite for.
To blow the bank vault.
And who'd suspect him? It's what he does for a living.
He must have been planning this
ever since the IRA set off that bomb in London.
A bit sick, ain't it? Planting a bomb near a school?
He needed to know we'd take his threats seriously.
I know what I'd like to seriously do to the bastard.
Call in. Same Irish accent.
-IRA, said it's gonna go off in... -Clay Street.
You psychic, boss?
Let's go.
No, wait, guv. The Irish bloke is Miller!
He wants us to think the bomb is gonna go off in Clay Street.
Think about it. It's perfect timing.
It's due to go off right in the middle of the lunch hour.
Miller thinks that half of Manchester's coppers will be in Clay Street,
waiting for an explosion that's not gonna happen.
While Miller's right over the other side of the city.
It takes about what, 20 minutes, to get from Clay St. to Kennel Rd.
That gives him time to get in, get out, leave no clues.
-There's no CCTV to track him... -CC what?
A security system we used in Hyde.
The point is, he lets the IRA take the blame.
He's right, guv. O'Brien is the perfect scapegoat for Frank Miller.
How do you know?
Look. You know when I said I wasn't wrong?
Well, I was. But...
I was right about this not being the IRA.
I was right to follow my instincts.
Just like you said, go with your gut feeling.
Just taking your lead.
So I'm right?
We both are.
Right.
Just as long as I'm more right than you.
Okay, let's get to the bank on Kennel Rd.
Phyllis, get a unit over to Clay St., get the area cleared, just in case.
In there.
Here.
It's broken.
We'd better get to him before he presses that button.
I'll wait out here if you like... Keep an eye on...
Get in there.
-How far down does this go? -Shut it, you ninny!
Alright then, Marco Polo. Which way?
It's this way.
-We've got about 5 minutes. -Here we go.
What're you doing, you dipstick?
There's a lot of dynamite down there, and you light a cigarette?
Sorry guv.
According to this, it should be about 50 yards that way.
It should just be up here.
Bingo.
Okay.
I'll lead.
-You okay, Ray? -Yeah, yeah.
Where's Ray?
Don't come in closer.
Any of you!
-Put the gun down, Miller. -No way.
Come on, Miller. This is not the right thing to do.
It's too late now.
Put your guns down, or I'll shoot him.
He's bluffing. He might be in debt, but he's not a killer.
I'll do it!
Go on, then,.
Come on, Miller.
Give us your Irish accent.
-You're going shy on us? -I'm warning you.
Come on, let's have it.
Five.
Four.
-Three. -Guv.
-Two. -Guv, please!
One.
Don't, please, Mr Miller!
What would your daughter say if got through with this?
You shouldn't be in this line of work, love.
-It's dangerous for a lass. -Sounds like me dad.
Just think how proud you were on graduation.
That's why you're doing this, isn't it?
It's not about the money.
It's about your family.
She's right, Frank.
Guv, please.
But this is the wrong way to go about it, Frank.
If you cared that much for your wife and kids,
you'd stop this now.
You wouldn't want hurt them by shooting a copper.
Blowing us all up.
Is that what they deserve, Frank?
How old is your boy?
He's ten.
How is a ten-year-old ever gonna understand what you're doing, Frank?
He won't.
He'll think somehow this was all his fault.
And that will be in his head forever.
Is that what you want for him, Frank?
Is that what you want for your family?
What do I do, Frank?
What do I do?
'Cause my instincts're telling me
that someone who loves his family that much won't go through with this.
And you know what?
I trust my instinct.
Why don't you give me the gun?
Come on, Frank.
Trust me, just give me the gun.
That's it.
Patrick.
I think DCI Hunt has something he'd like to say to you.
Have I?
Yeah, well, you know, O'Brien.
We all make mistakes, eh?
Sorry!
It's a bit late for sorry.
-Well you know, no hard feelings. -"No hard feelings"?
I've been falsely accused,
I've had the crap kicked out of my mouth, no job!
Look on the bright side.
You've still got your health, so you know...
Every cloud...
You know,
a hundred years ago, my grand-father, he worked at bogs in Connemara.
He came over here to try and make a better life for himself and his family.
No one trusted him, or wanted his family living next door to them.
But it was alright for him to be doing all the shitty wee jobs
that the English didn't wanna do.
That's why I came here.
Try and make a better life for meself.
A better life? What about the robbery?
I had no job! I had no money, I was desperate.
Like your man, Miller.
Except I'll never get a chance to run my own business.
Send my kids to the best school, drive a fancy motor.
D'you know why?
'Cause all our kind are good for
is shovelling shit, making bombs, am I right?
You know something big, lad?
I'm sick of shovelling shit.
Always trouble.
Want someone to chip on their shoulder? More the all sodding chippy.
Yeah, well, I wonder why.
Oi, oi, oi! Where are you going with that?
My new house!
On your way.
It's a bit parky to be out in just her nightie.
Nice one, boss.
Not bad, Tyler.
Well, I did have a bit of help from DC Cartwright.
Credit where credit's due.
Where you're going, Cartwright, you'll end up commissioner.
Steady on, guv.
You'll have her running the flaming country, next.
Well, maybe we would be better off if a woman did run the country.
She couldn't make a worst job of it than what you fellas have done.
I've got a feeling you might regret saying that, one day.
Here you go. From all of us.
Hang on, not quite.
Cheers, boss. I don't know what to say.
Mine's a pint of mild with a whisky chaser.
Nelson, pint for me and the boss. And get one for yourself.
Coming up, mon brave!
I said, mine's a pint of mild with a whisky chaser.
Cartwright's flashing the knickers!
Behave!
Well done, Sammy-boy.
'Course, you learnt from the master.
No point keeping all that expertise to meself.
Absolutely.
Cheers!
See, pub is the one safe place the IRA would never touch.
Ah, I love this one.
Common sense, here.
I've never met an Irish man who didn't like a drink.
They're not gonna bomb their own, are they?
You're right, guv.
Did he say "bomb their own" or "bum their own"?
Bombty-tonkie!
Hello?
Sam?
Despite our fears you've demonstrated evidence of healthy brain activity.
But the mind's a fragile thing,
so you must continue to believe and trust in yourself, Sam.
Like we believe and trust in you.
We hope you're strong enough to come through this.
Cheers.
Listen, I forgot to say thanks. I owe you one.
For what?
For helping me.
A Kit Kat will do nicely.
Tell you what, seeing as it's you,
I'll make it a chunky one.
Chunky?
No!
Subtitles: Nathbot Thanks Aissy
www.seriessub.com
Spoilers right after this!