(IRISH ACCENT) Still playing soldiers, huh?
- Haven't you heard? The war's over. - (IRISH ACCENT) You're here, aren't you?
We're planning something big.
Better keep that to yourself, then, huh?
Derry man, obviously(!)
Born and bred.
Earth to earth,
ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.
We therefore commit the body of Rachel Dalton to the ground
in the sure and certain hope of resurrection to eternal life.
STONEBRIDGE ON RADIO: Targets are boarding the tram.
Package is being delivered.
You have something for us?
Here. My Hungarian clients will be collecting this shipment tomorrow night.
You sure put your heart and soul into your work, Special Agent.
Don't they say, if you're going to do something, do it right?
- Yes, I think...l think they do say that. - OK.
This contains a video file.
You've got the connections. See they get it.
These guys like to see their faces on the telly, all right?
- I've a new life out here. I can't... - You will do this.
You heard the man.
When?
You will know.
Don't turn around. Keep your mouth shut.
Long time no see, Sean.
Where the fuck did you come from?
Out of the past.
(# THE HEAVY: Short Change Hero)
# Now, I can't see where you comin' from
# But I know just what you runnin' from
# And what matters ain't the who's baddest
# But the ones who stop you fall/n' from your ladder
# When you feel like you're fee/in' now
# And doin' things just to please your crowd
# When I love you like the way I love you
# Yeah, and I suffer but I ain't gon' cut you
# Cos this ain't no place for no hero
# This ain't no place for no better man
# This ain't no place for no hero
# To call home
# This ain't no place for no hero
# This ain't no place for no better man
# This ain't no place for no hero
# To call home. #
You're getting rusty, Sean.
I'm legit now.
I'm a businessman.
Course you are. All those years
running guns into Belfast. And now you supply from Budapest.
So tell me...who's on your Christmas card list these days?
- Al-Zuhari? - Never heard of him.
What about Mairead McKenna?
Who?
Soon as we knew she was headed for Budapest,
we pulled your phone records, Sean.
She rang you from Beirut two days ago.
You're playing a very dangerous game, Sean.
(TYRES SCREECH)
(CAR ALARMS BLARE)
O'Riordan!
(POLICEMAN SHOUTS)
- Stay back, or I'll shoot! - (GUNSHOTS)
STONEBRIDGE: Come to me!
I'm warning yous! Get the fuck away from me!
STONEBRIDGE: Go, go, go!
Remember, we need him alive!
(GUNSHOTS)
On it!
SCOT-F: Irish! Oi, Oi!
Hey. Hey, hey, he)'-
- SCOT-l': We want to talk. - Back off.
- No, just a talk. - Back off!
- Get off me, you... - Can I have your wig?
(RAUCOUS REVELLING)
Get off me!
He's getting married.
No! No!
- SCOT-l': There you go. (LAUGHS) - OK, OK!
- SCOT-l': You want to die in a green wig'? - Come on, Sean. Come on.
I said, just please get me up!
Yeah, all right.
- Come on, Sean, talk to me about McKenna. - I only dealt with her crew.
And what did they want?
The same thing they always want. Weapons and explosives.
- Mm-hm. More, more. - That's your lot.
- LOCKE: Back over. - (YELLS)
- Get off me! - STONEBRIDGE: Do you like that?
I pointed them at an arms shipment
coming into the switching yard tomorrow night in Pest.
McKenna's going to ambush it.
- Why did McKenna kill Rachel Dalton? - Who the fuck is Rachel Dalton?!
- Where can we find McKenna? - She'll be there tomorrow night!
Yeah.
- You wouldn't lie to me, would you, Sean? - I have grandchildren.
I swear to God, it's the honest truth.
- Search him. - Yes, sir.
Get your fucking hands off me! Get off!
Calm down, calm down. Let's go for a walk.
Let's take a walk, big fella. Jolly Green Giant, huh?
How you doing, folks?
- SCOT-l': Boss! - LOCKE: Don't be silly, Sean!
Stupid fucker. I'm out.
Shit.
(SIRENS WAIL)
(SIRENS GET LOUDER)
SCOT-l': You're not going to chicken out on me
with those diamonds, are you?
STONEBRIDGE: I don't know.
SCOT-l': Come on, Mikey. They're bad guy diamonds.
You hand them in, our guys are going to give them back
to the Lebanese authorities,
who are probably going to give them back to Hezbollah.
They're just going to buy more guns and kill more of our guys.
- Well... - So, we're just breaking the cycle.
- We're just doing everyone a favour. - Exactly.
- SCOT-l': It's a messed-up world. - STONEBRIDGE: Certainly is.
Yeah. Speaking of which...
I saw you and Martinez out there having a little smoochy smooch.
Just maintaining my cover, mate.
- Really? - Yeah.
- Doing a very good job. - Oh, cheers.
Glad to see you're finally getting some action!
- Identification, gentlemen. - Hang on. We're with...
- Sergeants Scott and Stonebridge? - ...her.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPS)
And you are?
Out of your league.
- Ha! - Natalie Fisher.
We set up your facility in the embassy ballroom. Follow me.
SCOT-l': Thank you.
(ELECTRONIC BEEPS)
- Two of yours, I believe. - Hey.
- How was it? - Bleak.
The IRA give their dead a better send-off.
Yeah, I still think we should have been there.
Sadly, we don't get to choose where we're sent.
She had a son.
No shit.
- Did you know? - LOCKE: No, not until after.
We'll do what we can for the boy.
Because the Army won't, right?
They're not the first family to pay the price for what we do, Michael.
Sir.
Coming online.
- Hey! - SCOT-l': Hey, kid.
STONEBRIDGE: Hi.
- SCOT-l': How are you doing'? - Not good. Nicotine gum.
That shit doesn't work. Try something else.
- STONEBRIDGE: How's Switzerland? - It's a bit boring.
There's no gun battles. (LAUGHS)
Aw, f miss you guys.
Mom here has been crying into her pillow every night.
Yeah, it's true.
And you?
- I miss you a little. - (VVHISPERS) A lot.
Huh.
- OK. - Oh, right, I'll see you later.
- Bye-bye. - See you.
- Close the door. - LOCKE: Glad you could join us, Leo.
We decrypted the media file found on O'Riordan's body.
The attack you have witnessed in Europe today...
KAMALI: Al-Zuhari.
AL-ZUHARI: ...you have brought on your own heads.
On the anniversary of the martyrdom of Imam Ali Alayahis Salam
you have tasted what we must live with...
every day-
Until your governments withdraw from
all lands where you are unwanted,
we and our brothers from oppressed nations of this earth
will rain the fire of Allah on your heads.
And fuck you, too.
Kamali, this is for broadcast after an attack, right?
Yeah. And at most, We have 48 hours.
The holy day he refers to is on Wednesday.
So we have an IRA man with an Al-Zuhari communiqué
and an arms shipment that's about to be ambushed.
Leo, I need you here.
That is difficult.
- Ester... - No. I need you here, Leo.
- I'll make arrangements. - Thank you. I appreciate it.
All right, listen up. This isn't just a terrorist attack.
What we're looking at here has been every operatives
worst nightmare for the last decade.
The old enemy are joining hands with the new.
So we prevent McKenna from getting hold of those weapons,
we find out what Al-Zuhari's playing at,
and we stop it.
# I never wanted to hurt you
# You do it to yourself
# I can give you all you need
# Just like nobody else
# You had to go your own way
# But where did that get you to?
# Now every piece is broken
# Who'll have mercy on you? #
STONEBRIDGE: Készéném szépen. Fiver.
- MARTINEZ: Készéném. - Yo, there you go.
- Hey, oi! - Nice.
- Free drinks. - We should drink to that.
That's what we should drink to.
Enjoy.
- Is that what we're going to drink to? - We should drink to Dalton.
- She was one of us. - STONEBRIDGE: Right.
Really? You're fucking kidding me?
She treated you like shit.
And God knows how many times she nearly got all of us fucking killed.
Damien, maybe if we'd have got there on time, maybe...
Oh, come on, dude.
We were always there. We all fucking carried her.
OK, I know she's got a little kid and...
...I'm really sorry for that little boy.
I'd be a fucking liar if I said I wasn't glad she wasn't here.
Sorry. Next round's on me.
Szia.
(SPEAKS HUNGARIAN)
(AMERICAN ACCENT) I'm sorry. I don't speak Hungarian.
Haven't seen you before.
First time in the city.
Do you work here in Budapest?
Embassy.
A diplomat?
Wow, that must be glamorous.
What exactly is it you do?
Endless receptions, being hit on by overexcited businessmen away from home.
Every girl's dream, huh?
(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)
He'!-
You were right...about Dalton.
Huh...
Thanks.
Old girlfriend?
(CHUCKLES)
Yeah.
She could have got married. Changed her name.
Yeah.
Look, leave it with me.
NATALIE: Things we do for our country, eh?
MAIREAD: Whatever it takes.
(NORMAL ACCENT) You're a wee darling, aren't you?
(GASPS)
(CHOKES)
- I'm sorry. - (CRACKING)
LOCKE: We know Al-Zuhari is planning an imminent attack.
The armed shipment O'Riordan told us about arrives by train tonight.
If we don't stop McKenna's crew getting their hands on those weapons,
we lose the only lead we have of the Al-Zuhari attack.
So, Colombia, Beirut... will all have been for nothing.
Guys, I need you on that train before it reaches Budapest.
Martinez, you'll be waiting for them at the switching yard.
- OK? - Mm-hm.
Bring me back McKenna...alive.
STONEBRIDGE: Here she is.
SCOT-l': All right. I'm Butch and you're Sundance.
- STONEBRIDGE: Hey, Sundance was faster. - SCOT-l': But Butch was better looking.
(STONEBRIDGE LAUGHS)
STONEBRIDGE: Yeah, but Sundance got the girl.
SCOT-l': Good point. You can't be Sundance.
- SCOT-l': Right, is that the last car'? - STONEBRIDGE: Yeah, that's us, that's us.
SCOT-l': Yeah, going in there.
RICHMOND: Bravo Two, are you in position?
SCOT-l': Ah' right, that's two hobos
on board, and I'm away.
RICHMOND: Roger.
Sat coming online now.
STONEBRIDGE: Oi. Do you think Butch and Sundance die at the end?
- SCOT-l': No, dude. They lived. - STONEBRIDGE: Ha.
Just two men against the entire Bolivian army.
SCOT-l': Been there and done that, huh'?
(STONEBRIDGE LAUGHS)
SCOT-l': Well, they definitely lived.
They never found the bodies. So those two just disappeared with all that loot.
STONEBRIDGE. Yeah.
SCOT-l': You know, sometimes you gotta know when you gotta go.
STONEBRIDGE: Huh.
All right.
Let's get the diamonds valued.
But just out of curiosity, that's all.
God knows, if we fall on our faces, nobody is going to pick us up.
That much is clear.
- In position. Over. - LOCKE: Roger.
Any activity? Over.
Negative. Out.
STONEBRIDGE: The Hungarians are making the pick-up.
SCOTT: (WHISPERS) Mikey. I'm moving.
STONEBRIDGE: Good luck.
STONEBRIDGE: They've got some heavy-duty shit here.
There's no sign of the Irish yet.
SCOT-l': Hold up. I've got a sniper on my 12.
Up on that bridge.
- SCOT-l': Good position for the ambush. - X-ray confirmed.
Oh, fuck.
Put your fucking hands up.
Down on your knees.
(DISTANT SHOUTS)
- (KNIFE SLASHES) - (GROANS)
Motherfucker.
(GUNSHOTS)
SCOT-l': Here's the fighting Irish.
(GROANS)
STONEBRIDGE: Shit. That's finished off the Hungarians.
Come on! Cops'll be all over this place soon.
SCOT-l': I've got a clear shot at our primary target.
Where the fuck's Liam?!
(SPEAKS ARABIC)
SCOTT: Two of her crew are Middle Eastern.
We're here. Move those guns now! Quickly!
Targefs on the move.
If you can, take her.
Alive, Bravo Two.
Copy that.
Come on to fuck, lads! It's not a fucking holiday camp!
Let's go. Let's shift this. Move it!
Come on, let's go.
Shit, Liam.
- Fuck! - Who the fuck's firing?
Get down!
SCOT-l': Target acquired.
Get in the fuckin' pick-up now!
- Move it, get out of here! - Hit the floor, hit the floor!
- SCOT-l': Boss, they're on the move. - The weapons are on the truck.
Do not let them get away with those weapons.
Are you fucking kidding me?
Go, Mikey!
Take the shot.
- Come on. - Take the shot.
Fuck.
Shit!
Any news on the arms truck?
Nothing yet. Local police have been alerted and GCHQ...
We all miss sometimes, Mikey. It happens to the best of us.
Yeah, well, I had it.
Don't be too hard on yourself, dude. It was dark, it was a moving target.
I said lfuckin' had it, Scott.
So, you just felt like getting a checkup, huh?
Yes. Yeah.
You must be the first man in history to voluntarily visit a doctor.
It's just been a while, that's all.
Routine blood sample.
Results will be passed to your CO in a couple of days.
Something bothering you, Sergeant?
No. No, nothing.
No anxiety, mood swings?
No, no, not that I can think of.
I used to be Territorial Army, two tours.
Iraq.
My number. Any time you want to talk.
Go on.
Back in the day, the IRA used to concentrate their minds
on an invisible flame to resist interrogation.
You mean torture.
Wasn't the Yanks invented waterboarding.
You were using it on us 4O years ago.
Us? That's interesting.
You're not IRA, Mairead.
If you were, you would know the war's over.
The IRA...
What they settled for we could have had ten years before I was born.
Hmm.
So what are you?
Oh, don't tell me. You're the Real IRA.
You really think people believe that?
- You served there? - Six tours.
Armagh.
Mid-'80s.
You'd have met my brother, then..
Or maybe not.
You're still alive.
What were you doing in Beirut? Hmm?
Are you teaming up with some like-minded jihadists?
Going to bring sharia law to the Six Counties
and turn the North into some Muslim Caliphate?
Better the Muslims than the British.
You don't really believe that.
Where are your boys?
Where's the truck?
When is this attack going to take place?
It was the fucking Brits took Mairead!
I can smell the bastards.
- He's dying. - So he needs a fucking priest!
The attack must go ahead.
We'll get her out. We got connections in the consulate.
Father.
- He needs the last rites, Father. - There's no time for this.
Show some fucking respect!
PRIEST: In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti...
We have a problem here. You have to clean up your mess.
LOCKE: So tell me, Mairead, why did you kill Major Dalton?
The girl in Beirut?
Bitch was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Casualty of war.
And Sophia Abboud? Al-Zuhari's wife?
She could have compromised our operation.
What can you possibly get out of working with these people?
I get to see the look on your face when you realise every fucker you ever trod on
for the past thousand years has clubbed together and is coming back to get you.
Come on, tell me about the target.
I can keep a secret.
Ask your brother.
My brother's dead.
I know. He was picked up outside
The Rock Bar on the Falls Road by a Loyalist hit squad.
You've done your research. What d'you want, a gold star?
I was there.
Oh, I knew your brother, Mairead.
It was my job to.
You knew him personally?
You ran across him?
Iran him.
- What? - You heard.
Your brother was a tout.
You dirty Brit bastard.
My brother was worth ten of you.
He had you lot running scared.
The great SAS.
Everything you are, you are because of your brother.
And everything you know about him...
was a lie.
You're the liar.
Sir.
Think about that.
Local police just got a call from a church in District V.
One of their priests has been kidnapped
as he gave the last rites to a man dying of a gunshot wound.
Seems he was brought in by an Arab and an Irishman.
OK, check it out.
Yeah, roger that.
- Give the Hungarians operational control. - Will do.
The Irish consulate has been on to the ambassador.
- Get Natalie in here, will you? - She didn't come in today, sir.
- Hey, Sergeant? - Yeah?
Want to grab dinner sometime?
No, nothing too serious, just some good food, fine wine and...
- hot, butt-naked sex. - You really think
now is the time to talk about that?
Well, given that we could be dead in 60 seconds,
I'd say there's no time like the present.
(MUFFLED SHOUTS)
You all right?
Mikey!
- Yeah, we're all right! Are you OK? - What the fuck was that?
Oh, yeah, Francie had us running to the bank.
50 grand a year we pumped into his account.
Plus expenses.
Still...
...it was money well spent.
(SIGHS)
No strings attached?
- As long as we can go Dutch. - Yeah. Yeah, we can.
Shit.
- Sneaky Irish bastards. - Yeah.
- Huh? - Pricks.
Yeah, dude. We've got to get out of this game, Mikey. You know.
If it's not the IRA, it's just going to be some other fucker that gets us.
Dude...
that was way too close.
Way too fucking close.
- Yeah. - Fuck.
Yes, it was.
This is bullshit.
A kid with a Mac could fake this shit up in ten minutes.
Yeah. OK.
Try this.
LOCKE: Hey, Francie, just a little present from Her Majesty's Government.
Two soldiers still walking the streets because of you, Francie.
Thank you.
Now, you have something for me?
- FRANCE". An attack. - Mm-hm.
FRANCE: Tonight.
Police station in Cushendall.
Details are in there.
LOCKE". Francis.
Good man.
What are you doing?
The crew you're running only defer to you because of who your brother was.
Or who they think he was.
Same reason the actual IRA hasn't wiped you out.
(MIMICS NORTHERN IRISH ACCENT) You're Francie McKenna's wee sister.
You're untouchable.
Let's see how well that holds when I post this on a Republican news website,
shall we?
Better a child molester than an informer, eh, Mairead?
The attack.
When is it?
Where is it?
Last chance, Mairead.
Colonel Locke.
A word.
Would that be the Philip Locke?
MAN: Please.
The ambassador is about to bring a shitstorm down on your head.
The Irish consulate know that we're holding McKenna.
They' re threatening to take it to Number Ten,
claim we're using the embassy as a black site for illegal renditions.
She's assured them you're going to take McKenna to London.
Now.
Are you serious?
An attack is about to take place and she is the only lead we have.
She has to go, Philip!
And it has to be official.
This is bullshit.
An imminent attack and we can't question the terrorist who's planning it
cos we're in the wrong fucking country?
Perhaps if your CIA hadn't set up its own global network of torture franchises,
we wouldn't be in this situation now.
Soon as the wheels go up on that plane, I need you lot back here.
How's your son, Philip? Be what now? 20?
25'?
You mention my son again, and I will kill you where you stand.
- Have you got that? - Boss.
Get her in the car.
LOCKE: You ride with her.
What? Was it something I said?
Get in.
MAIREAD: All this for me?
Scare you boys, do I?
Don't normally think of rain when you think of Beirut.
But I bet you do now.
She begged me for her life.
What was her name?
Dalton.
Like all of you boys, she was better at dishing it out than taking it.
Oh!
(AEROPLANE OVERHEAD)
OK, you know the score. Diplomatic protocols apply.
Guns in locked boxes.
The whole nine yards.
Yeah, we'll be sitting ducks.
I need to use the bathroom.
Nice try, sweetheart. You can do it on the plane.
Taking a prisoner back to the UK.
These people are seeing me on the plane.
Paperwork is all here, and our jet's on the runway over there.
I need to see everyone's passports.
Thanks, Dad.
There is no record of your arrival.
It was a diplomatic flight from Beirut.
- She has a passport? - Oh, for God's sake.
- One minute, please. - STONEBRIDGE: You're fucking joking.
Look, this woman is a wanted terrorist who is being extradited to the UK.
It's been cleared. You need to read that.
I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to wait here, gentlemen.
Get me on that plane or let me use the bathroom.
- Shut the fuck up. - Time of the month.
For God's sake. You're women.
Just take her.
Let's go.
I'm going to need these off.
How am I supposed to go?
You'll figure it out.
It's all yours.
- OK, everything seems in order. - SCOTT: About fuckin' time.
- Let's go. - Cheers.
- Your guns, please. - SCOT-l': I haven't got one.
(LAUGHS) Just fucking with you.
- SCOT-l': Don't lose it. - Step this way, sir.
- (ELECTRONIC BEEPS) - Hold on.
- (KNOCK AT DOOR) - RICHMOND: Hurry up.
(TOILET FLUSHES)
Right there.
- (ELECTRONIC BEEPS) - Step this way.
- SCOT-l': Did you find his metal dildo'? - STONEBRIDGE: Yeah, thanks, mate.
- SCOT-l': Where's those fucking girls? - You can go through.
(MAIREAD GROANS)
Cover me!
On the balcony, Mikey!
Drop the gun. Do it!
I'm moving!
Go, Mike!
NOW!
Thank you.
Stay there. Stay right there. Don't move!
(ALARM RINGS)
Shit.
Shoot.
Take the shot, Michael.
- (SOUND FADES) - Mikey!
Take that shot!
Take it.
Don't even think about it, you fucker. You're mine!
Fuck!
Fuck...
What the fuck, Mairead? What are you doing?
Move it. Go...now!
Fuck.
Fucking move!
(ALARM RINGS)
Julia.
Fuck.
Give me a fucking grenade.
# Now, I can't see where you comin' from
# But I know just what you runnin' from
# And what matters ain't the who's baddest
# But the ones who stop you fallin' from your ladder
# Cos this ain't no place for no hero
# This ain't no place for no better man
# This ain't no place for no hero
# To call home
# This ain't no place for no hero
# This ain't no place for no better man
# This ain't no place for no hero
# To call home. #