[Punches thudding]
[Exhales]
Whoa.
- What'’s wrong with you, man? - I'’m just playing around.
You trying to take a man'’s head off?
- You know I get excited, man. - Cha!
- Sorry, mate. Cool? You cool? - Yeah.
- Calm down, man. - Sorry.
- [Grunting] - Easy!
- What? - You showing off now, yeah?
I'’m just playing, innit?
What you doing? It'’s gone, man.
What?
Your hair. Your hair.
You need to concentrate on how much cakes you'’re eating.
Don'’t worry about my waistline. My waistline is fine, yeah?
Don'’t worry about my hairline. The light'’s just catching it.
[Scoffs] The light on your hair!
Bruv, I gotta go. I'’m gonna be late for the ceremony.
- In a bit, yeah? - What do you want later?
Chicken or lamb?
Oh, shit.
You can imagine, as deputy,
I generally get the jobs the Mayor can'’t be bothered to do.
But today I'’m actually giving an award I'’m honoured to give.
I'’ve been privileged to know him since I first joined the force.
He was one of the first black police officers
to receive a commendation.
[Bell tolling]
I'’m sorry.
And now he is the recipient of the Mayor'’s Award
for Distinguished Service to the Met.
The Director General of the NCA, Ronald Pike.
[Mobile ringtone]
- Ssh! - Ssh!
Sorry.
It'’s shiny, Dad. Shiny.
[Mobile ringtone]
What?
There you are. Chicken or lamb?
Bish, this is not really a good time.
It'’s never a good time for you.
You'’re just upset you didn'’t get invited.
Why, where are you?
God, you are so childish, bruv.
- Listen, I'’m getting the lamb. - No red meat in my house.
I'’ll get chicken. Or pork. Is that red meat or white?
As long as it'’s free range.
Jesus, you and this free range!
The only difference between normal and that is about £6.74.
Hold on one sec. Sabine'’s calling me.
[Mobile rings]
Yo, Pike, hold up, man. Sabine'’s trying to call me too.
Hello?
Bishop, I need to see you. Now.
Someone found out I talked to you and I'’m really scared.
All right, I'’ll grab you at the usual place.
Yo, Pike, come and get me. She sounds scared.
- I can'’t walk out! You mad? - Yeah, you can.
Your dad won'’t care. I'’m getting chicken.
[Call ends]
♪ Would you take a bullet?
♪ Would you bite the gun?
♪ I fall onto my knees
♪ And yes, the war'’s already won
♪ Through dark nights
♪ We burn bright
♪ Till the sunset
♪ Through dark nights
♪ When it all goes wrong
♪ I'’ll take my time, I'’ll keep on holding on
♪ When it all goes wrong
♪ When it all goes wrong, oh-oh
♪ When it all goes wrong, I'’ll pull myself together
♪ Keep on holding on
[Siren wails in distance]
I'’m surprised they let a black man in there, to be honest.
It'’s amazing what you can do with a nice suit, bro.
Get me.
You want a mint, bruv?
Mouth smells like you'’ve been drinking champagne
or eating something mad or...
Nothing wrong with my breath. What are you talking about?
- It'’s bad enough. Take a mint. - I don'’t want a mint.
Sabine, recent. You all right?
I told you everything I knew. And now I'’m getting threats.
- Is the number familiar? - Of course not.
Otherwise I wouldn'’t be worried.
You promised you'’d look after me if I helped you.
- We'’re here, aren't we? - Tell you what you do.
Send me the number, I'’ll put a trace on it.
Put me in a safe house or I stop talking.
That is impossible off the back of a text. Come on.
Not good enough, Bishop.
I'’ve got valuable information -
a gang stealing cars.
- Dangerous people. - You got an address?
You get nothing until I get safe.
All right, let me make a call
and we'’ll try and pull some strings.
Pull some strings? That'’s it?
I thought I meant more to you.
Sabine!
Sabine, don'’t just walk off like that!
- Bruv, why are they so angry? - Is that a thing?
It'’s an Eastern European... They'’re angry people.
They say black people are angry.
Nuts. We'’re not angry people.
Yo, yo! Get in the car!
No, no, no, no, no.
Urgent medical to Fort Road Industrial Estate.
IC-1. Sabine Grosch.
In pursuit of a red Audi estate, reg to follow.
[Horn beeps]
You! You! Stay with her! Stay with her!
[Horn blares, tyres screech]
[Siren wailing]
Fuck, man, Sabine!
We are in pursuit of a red Audi: Lima, Kilo, 58,
Delta, Yankee, Juliet.
- It'’s going very fucking fast! - Very fucking fast.
Jesus! Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey!
- Hey! Hey! - [Horn blares]
- Pike, what is wrong with you? - Put your seat belt on.
- Drive the car properly! - I got this! Chill, man.
- Yo... - [Horn blares]
Oh, shit!
Left! Left!
[Tyres screech]
Whoa!
Aagh!
Whoops.
- Bruv, drive carefully. - You gotta sort that out, mate.
- Concentrate on the road, man. - I am concentrating.
But you'’re a fucking policeman and you'’re scared of driving!
I'’m scared of reckless driving!
All right. All right. Whatever, man. Shut up.
[Tyres screech, horns blare]
Whoa, Jesus!
[Siren wails]
PIKE: You know what? This guy'’s good, you know.
[Horns beep]
Whoops! There goes your £5 chicken.
I bought the free range.
All right, let'’s see what you got.
- [Tyres screech] - There! There! There!
[Horns blare]
This guy'’s mine.
[Car hits van]
Whoah!
[Air hisses]
[Horns tooting]
I don'’t like you, you know.
Bruv, I just saved your life.
I still don'’t like you. Never have.
- [Horns blare] - Fair do'’s.
PIKE: Sabine, man.
Oh, shit.
Tanner'’s here, bro.
TANNER: Come on. There you go.
- What is that? - It'’s a dog, Bishop.
I'’m old and I'm lonely. It'’s what happens.
Any next of kin?
Left them under the rubble in Srebrenica.
Came here for a better life.
Was she good as a grass?
We'’ve been grooming her for months.
She was a good woman, just wanted to do the right thing.
She was an informant, Pike.
- She was our informer. - Hardly an exclusive business.
Run her phone and stop being sentimental.
Yes, ma'’am.
That'’ll teach you.
Oi, put your hand down. You wouldn'’t do that to her face.
- Neither would you. - True.
How we getting back?
Hey, plod! Keys!
[Scoffs] Bro, what are you doing?
It'’s gone and it ain'’t coming back.
I saw it, Bish.
- Saw what? - The mirror under the keyboard.
Busted.
Er...Nell, Sabine Grosch'’s phone.
Heading up to Tech? Can you run it up for me?
And why would I run your errands for you?
Because, under that hard exterior,
you secretly like me and this would be a great way
- of connecting with me. - Nice.
Oh, I feel sorry for your whatever she is.
I must say, you do have a way with the ladies.
[Shells rattling onto floor]
Yes.
That'’s my way of connecting with you.
Oh, man.
That'’s your fault. You dropped the shot.
- Bollocks, that was you! - You did. I don'’t drop shots.
- You dropped it. - No, I did not.
Nice shooting, Jonesy. I would trust you in the line of fire.
That was me, actually.
- Nice shooting, Jonesy. - Such a dick.
It was her, actually. But for what it'’s worth,
I'’d trust you in the line of fire as well.
- Thank you. - Good luck with that, mate.
Sorry to hear about your informant. It sounded terrible.
You should'’ve seen it, man. It was messed up.
You got a bead on her?
Waiting for Forensics to run the phone.
- To Sabine. - Mm.
Nah, to the ones that killed her.
We'’re coming for you.
[Knock at door]
Replacement car time, boys.
You'’ve got to be joking. Seriously?
Go on.
- [Pike greets man] - All right, Pike, Bish?
[Central locking beeps]
[Groans]
[Groans] This is your fault, you know. I blame you for this.
I'’m sorry. What can I say?
- That wasn'’t a sincere apology. - Yes, it was.
I can tell. I know when you'’re sincere. That wasn'’t sincere.
- I meant sorry. - You didn'’t mean it, did you?
[Laughs]
Mate, you actually charged her to live here, yeah?
No-one forced her.
Open the door before I slap you.
Looks like she was studying engineering, bro.
Someone'’s roughed this place up, man. No way she lived like this.
[Baby cries]
- Yeah? - Yeah.
[Softly] Oh, my God.
[Softly] Shit, man.
[Baby gurgles]
- Yo, Jonesy. - Yeah, mate?
We'’re gonna need Forensics down here.
- Social services as well. - No worries. Roger that.
[Police radio]
Why didn'’t she tell us about the baby, man?
- We could have done something. - I don'’t know, bruv.
Maybe she didn'’t want us getting too close.
TV: The victim of a fatal hit-and-run in East London
has been named as Sabine Grosch.
The 28-year-old Serbian national
was struck and killed on Friday morning.
The police have yet to release an official statement...
The 28-year-old woman from Serbia
was killed in a hit-and-run yesterday morning.
Police are yet to comment.
Sources say there could be a connection to local gangs.
Bish. Have you seen the time?
Oh. You could have tidied up.
- I'’ll get round to it. - Please don'’t make us late.
- It reflects badly on me. - No, it reflects badly on us.
It was you who wanted to go.
[Sighs]
Why don'’t you rub chilli flakes into the meat?
Gives it a really nice kick.
Babe, I know what I'’m doing, yeah?
- OK. - Thank you.
- I saw that. - [Mutters] Oh, my God.
Only because I love you.
- Can you get the door? - I am getting the door, babe.
No Jehovah'’s Witness, thank you.
Mm.
- Aargh! - [Screams]
[Chatter and music]
Yeah?
Well, if you expect me to act like an adult...
- Give her a drop. Go on. - Just a little.
- Cheers. - There you go. Cheers.
For what we are about to receive,
may the Lord make us truly grateful.
Blessed are we, in fellowship and friendship and family.
[Chatter and laughter]
Mm, this bird is delicious - got such a good kick to it.
Thank you.
Of course I'’ll run.
Who wouldn'’t want to be Mayor of London?
As long as there'’s some perks for your godson.
Thank you.
- Thanks for inviting me. - That'’s OK. You're family.
[Mobile phone pings and buzzes]
CHILD: I used to play piano. I used to play piano.
♪ High, middle, low
♪ Give me three in a row
Dad. Dad! Dad, come on, man. Dad!
I know what I'’m doing, son.
We'’re gonna have an Edinburgh reunion at Pizza Express.
- Sounds good. - Yeah.
- You taking him? - Mm-mn.
- Just the girls. - OK.
[Plate is tapped]
Don'’t worry, I'll keep it short.
Please do.
But family congregations deserve gratitude.
And know that I count everyone in this room as family.
Now, what brain in my flock
knows the meaning of "ad pudenda"?
[Muttering] Oh, here we go.
[Chatter in background]
[Mobile pings and buzzes]
- Yo. - Yo, man.
Tanner just called.
Tech ran Sabine'’s phone - they got a postcode.
Get ready, yeah?
When this guy'’s had a drink, he chats shit, you know.
Seriously, all I want to do is catch criminals. You get me?
I don'’t know why he has to start talking
in that wannabe posh accent.
Bruv, are you even listening?
Yeah, man.
Liven up, Bish.
If these are the people Sabine was on about,
they don'’t fuck around, bruv.
Oi.
What is it, my cooking?
Hm? What you chatting about?
You'’ve been acting weird since lunch.
I'’m just being thoughtful.
You, thoughtful, yeah? Are you ill?
What do you mean, am I ill?
- Is this the one? - Yeah.
Don'’t think anyone's home. Fancy a look inside?
Yeah, why not?
- [Clattering] - Be careful, yeah?
I'’m good, man.
Car keys, Bish. Sabine was right.
Yeah, mate.
Programming key fobs. These guys are serious, bro.
Let me see if I can crack into this.
[Voices nearby]
Shit, shit.
[He mouths silently]
[Car engine starts]
Bish, we need to move.
[Horn blares]
Go, grab him!
- Argh! - Go!
[Woman screams]
[Clattering, people screaming]
- Urgh! - There you go.
Shit!
Where you going?
Just cuff him. I'’m calling it in.
Yeah.
You'’re nicked, mate. Let's go.
You know Sabine was a mother, right?
Now that child'’s gonna be brought up in care.
[Suspect whispers]
No comment.
BISHOP: Maybe you'’re the father?
That your style, is it -
murder your child'’s mother?
No comment.
Shut up, man!
The cars. Where are they going?
You'’re trying to ship 'em out of the country, yeah?
I tell you what, it'’s not gonna happen.
Not on my fucking watch.
[Shouts]
Connection to Sabine Grosch?
He killed her, that'’s all.
Any evidence to back that up?
Asked for a solicitor other than that interpreter?
- He hasn'’t said... - He doesn'’t fucking need one!
Anything recovered from that flat is inadmissible.
There'’s things called warrants, you know - papery with words on.
Right, well.
We'’re gonna have to let him go.
Unless you'’ve, er... got any smart ideas?
Nice arrest, boys! Heard you'’re letting him go? Classy.
Hey, bruv, I'’ll slap you in your mouth.
- Easy, I'’m just kidding. - Jonesy, you think I'’m joking?
- Calm down, Bishop. - What are you doing?
Learn to take a joke, mate.
What'’s up?
He just gets on my damn nerves.
That'’s illegal, you know?
So is murder.
Yo.
What?
[Groans sleepily] What you doin'’?
- Got a location. - Come on, then.
[Radio chatter]
[Dog barks]
So?
I said, "So?"
I know I shouldn'’t have, man, but I checked Sophie'’s phone.
That'’s a no win there, bruv.
[Sucks teeth] You'’re telling me.
She'’s sexting with Jonesy.
What?
- Hold on. Our Jonesy? - Yeah, our Jonesy.
That why you jumped him, bro?
What am I gonna do, Pike?
- Do you actually know it'’s him? - Bruv, I can read, you know!
"It was good to see you." "I can'’t wait to see you again."
All right, man. All right. Look.
Don'’t just go jumping to conclusions
and do something stupid before you know for certain.
You know how you get sometimes.
What do you mean?
- You get all vexed, and then... - When do I get vexed?
Pushing up your chest and nose flaring, eyes wide...
- Ever seen my nose flare? - You'’re doing it now!
- I don'’t get vexed, bruv! - All right.
Oh, shit.
Lively.
Right, Bish, Bish, Bish.
- Are you seeing this? - [Mutters]
Bish! Focus, man, come on!
Oh, yeah, Lamborghini Huracan.
Mercedes SLS.
Mercedes G Wagon 63.
Oh, shit, there'’s the red Audi.
[Engine revs]
No, no, no, no. Bruv, no, we'’re not going in there blazing.
- But we owe it to Sabine, man. - We can'’t just steam in, bro.
This is not about getting revenge to make us feel better.
Bish.
Don'’t let the way you feel now cloud your judgement, yeah?
Please.
- Yeah? - OK, bro.
We'’re gonna need 24-hour observation down here.
Which one of you idiots wants to take the first shift?
NELL: Yeah, fuck it, why not?
Yeah, thought you would, you dirty stop-out.
And make it snappy. I'’ve got a date with my wife.
[Mellow music plays]
Please?
- Can'’t I relax for a minute? - I'’ll return the favour.
- Oh, OK. - [Chuckles]
[Chuckles] All right.
- Dad? - Out!
Gotta get a lock on that door, baby.
So...this partnership.
I think I'’m gonna say no.
We don'’t use that word in this house.
It'’s too much pressure. Long hours.
And what about the girls?
It'’ll be a big change, Ronnie, and for what?
For your career.
You said you wanted to go back,
when the little one went to big school.
- That was different. - Out!
- My iPad froze! - I don'’t care!
- I can'’t find my hearing aid! - I said, get out!
Sorry. Why'’s it different?
- It'’s a bit of a number. - So is unfulfilled potential.
[Sighs]
All right, look. All I'’m saying is don'’t rule it out.
Yeah.
How'’s that feel?
Like I'’m about to return the favour.
Oh, yeah?
But not without a lock on the door.
- Rub your own foot, then. - Hey.
[She laughs]
SOPHIE: Bish?
It'’s the, er... It's the one you like, with a kick.
Bish...
Oh, I wish you'’d told me.
Well, well...
I wanted to, er... I wanted to surprise you, so, you know...
Oh, I'’m supposed to be going out. I told you a while back.
Edinburgh reunion with the girls at Pizza Express.
Yeah, you did, actually.
You did actually tell me that. I just forgot.
Know what? That sounds like a lot of fun.
You should go to that, man.
- They'’ll want to catch up. - If I make it in time.
Jonesy'’s coming from Paris and at this rate,
she'’ll get there before me.
She? Jonesy?
Yeah, Fiona Jones - the Welsh flirt.
You remember her.
Fiona Jones. [Laughs] Fiona Jones!
- Fiona Jones, yes. - What? What'’s so funny?
Man. Do you know what?
Fiona, yeah, Fiona. Don'’t even worry about it.
You wouldn'’t believe me if I told you.
You need to get out of the scrubs, go get ready.
- What about all this? - I'’ll eat all of it. Just go.
Just go, go, go, go. Shoo.
Shoo. This'’ll be waiting for you when you get home.
- OK. - And this.
Yeah. Go on, Bishop.
[Tyres screech]
You'’re starting to like that car, aren'’t you?
[Chuckles] Come on, man.
You pussy. I knew it. I was right, innit? I told you.
- Yeah, yeah. - Crying. Crying.
"My girl. My girl. My girl." Come on.
It'’s not "Jonesy" Jonesy. But I'’m, er...
I'’m too embarrassed to talk about it.
- [Both laugh] - I hear you.
I know we'’re going onto the motorway.
But don'’t drive too fast, man.
Bruv, come on.
[Snoring]
TANNER: Sasa Dragenev. Serbian.
Somewhere towards the top of a chain of a gang
stealing and transporting high-end cars to the Continent.
We haven'’t got long.
We found the cars and think they'’ll want to move them soon.
We believe he killed Sabine Grosch,
an informer who was about to turn him in.
You'’ve all seen the pictures of what he did to her. Nice boy!
Bishop?
Check your maps.
There'’s one road out of there, so when they leave, that'’s it.
We track the cars to where they ship them from and move in.
I want this gang caught, so to be clear...
they do not leave this country.
And we get Sasa off the street. Clear?
Crystal.
Yeah, that sounds great, Bishop,
but when are we getting relieved?
We'’ve been here for hours. I can'’t feel my legs.
Glad you'’ve woken up, Jonesy. Team en route. Is Nell OK?
- Bit bored, ma'’am. - Oh, thanks, mate.
- Pow! - Good partner, eh?
All right. Well, let'’s get into it.
She'’s not funny. I don't know why she tries to make jokes.
- Let me talk to you, bro. - Yeah, man.
You need to apologise to him, you know. To Jonesy.
What for?
Look, I'’m not gonna do it here on a video link
in front of everyone, am I?
Yeah, I'’m not saying now. But you have to do it.
[Commotion]
JONESY: Fuck off!
Fuck, we'’ve been made! Move it! Move, move!
Look lively! Come on! Let'’s go! Let's go! Let'’s go!
BISHOP: The tracker'’s on, ma'am.
We'’ve located Dragenev and we'’re right behind him.
Shit.
Approaching target up ahead.
Keep your distance. I don'’t want them spooked. Munroe?
Officers are gone, warehouse has been abandoned.
Fuck. Shit.
Listen in. Number one priority, get Jones and Nell back,
whatever, however.
Ma'’am, we're stuck in traffic, but we can see the Audi.
We just can'’t get to it because of roadworks.
- Number of occupants? - Two occupants.
No sign of Nell and Jonesy.
Keep your eyes on them until I send a back-up team.
Do not get out of that car.
- Stay in your car. - What'’s going on?
Don'’t move! Don't move, bro!
Finger off the trigger and put the gun down.
[Speaks Serbian]
Take your finger off the trigger and stay cool.
- Bish? - Yeah?
They can'’t speak English, bro.
- How do you know? - They'’re not speaking English!
- Hey, Bish. - Yo.
Put your gun down, bro. Show them.
What? No way! You put yours down.
Just put your gun down, bro. Show them.
No way, man. You put yours down.
- You really wanna do this now? - You put yours down.
- I'’m not putting my gun down. - Come on, man.
Come on.
- All right, it'’s going down. - Nice and slow.
Come on, slowly, slowly. There you go.
Do like my friend, come on. Come on.
Give me the gun, man.
Keep your hands up.
Bruv, I will give you another dimple. Give me the gun!
Bruv, are you deaf?
I don'’t even know what you'’re playing at.
[Bullets ricochet]
[Tyres squeal as engine revs]
[Gunfire]
- Come on! - You all right?
Get in the car!
- All right? - I think I got shot, you know.
What are you saying? You dying?
No, it'’s just my jumper. It'’s just my jumper.
- You ain'’t fucking been shot! - It clipped me. It hurts!
Slow down, man.
We are in pursuit of that red fucking Audi again.
[Tyres screeching]
Jesus!
Whoa! [Laughs]
Shoot the tyres, bro.
[Tyres screech]
[Grunting]
Come here.
[Groaning]
Yeah, that'’s for Sabine.
And that'’s for Sabine.
Jonesy'’s been shot. Untie me, quick.
- Keep still. Keep still. - Jonesy'’s been shot!
Someone call for medic!
Bishop, not your fault. Now, get it together.
Keep it down. Focus. You'’re gonna be all right.
Come on, bro, we gotta go.
Ma'’am, the satnav says we'’re heading to the docks.
We'’ve taken Sasa's car, see if we can surprise them.
- Hopefully we'’re not too late. - Roger that.
You'’re on the job, brother. This shit happens.
For the sake of the unit, and mostly me,
get a fucking grip of yourself. Come on, Bish!
- Think of Sabine, man. - OK.
- You good? - Yeah.
Good. When Jonesy comes around, he ain'’t gonna blame you.
Let'’s go and do what we need to do.
Sort this shit out right now.
Let'’s go finish this, bro.
[Gulls squawking]
- You ready, Bish? - I'’ll take Captain Birdseye.
Where the fuck is Sasa?
Sorry, man. I could have sworn
this was the House of Wings Chicken Shop.
You know how us black people love chicken, man.
[Grunting]
Yargh!
Oh, shit. Get off!
Bish! Bish! Bish! Come on.
- You made hard work of that. - You picked the small one.
Shut up.
Go.
Hello, hello, hello. You'’re all under arrest for auto smuggling.
Shut it down. Shut the gate. Nothing leaves the dock.
Switch it off.
- Good lad. - [Gun clicks]
- [Ship'’s horn] - See you later, lads.
Enjoy your time.
I hear the view'’s nice at Belmarsh.
Listen, stop fretting. It'’s all good.
Ma'’am, any news on Jonesy? Is he OK?
They'’re operating on him now.
The bullet just missed an artery.
But so far everything looks good.
It'’s all right, man.
Go home and rest. You deserve it.
- Home. - All right.
[Whoop of siren]
- Come on, man. - [Laughter]
[Chanting] Eh, eh, eh!
Cheers.
[Both laugh drunkenly]
Go on, put a burger on for me, bro.
I'’m fucking dying out here, man.
I didn'’t think you ate red meat, Pike?
It'’s organic, innit?
[All laugh]
OK, listen. I would like to propose...
Propose to who? Me?
- I got a wife. Don'’t want you. - Are you sure?
Of course.
I would like to propose a toast... to Jonesy.
Cos I know he'’ll pull through.
Yeah, man. Jonesy.
Cheers.
To Jonesy.
Next time you go out with Bishop,
make sure you wear a fucking vest!
- Yes! - [Laughs]
That'’s not funny, bro.
- What'’s wrong? - It'’s not funny. Not funny.
- All right. - Exactly. It was all right.
[Both laugh]
I'’ve heard better jokes!
You'’re no fucking Ken Dodd, are you?
Go on, brother, top that up.
Come on, bruv! Where'’s the fucking burgers?
- It'’s coming! - I can'’t smell nothing cooking!
Get that peanut oil burning, bruv.
Now, wait. You freaky mad fucker.
[Door slams]
[He exhales]
[Monitor beeping steadily]
Michael Sharp - British citizen but holds a Dutch passport.
Just cleared customs at Stansted an hour ago.
This your guy?
- After you, man. - Thanks.
[Gunfire]
- Well, this isn'’t good. - Double tap head shots.
Armed robbery, two dead bodies.
And we can'’t sew this thing together?
The man slept with my girl.
I love you, bro, but don'’t be around when I see him.
Go! Go! Go!
Go on!
I say we blast in there and grab him.
You obviously thought that one through.
- You got a better idea? - No.