Snatch

-Hey, Vic, you should take a look at this, mate. It's a bullion heist.

- Do we have an idea whose gold this is?

Yeah, we do. It's ours.

-I'll get them to share that gold, one way or another.

- So, what's going on? - Saul Gold's going on.

He's called a job on. - You pick up my clients,

the Heimels, from the airport.

-What else are we transporting other than the Heimels, Mr. Gold?

Diamonds. A fistful.

- Where can we have a little fun around here?

What kind of fun are you referring to?

Who's heisted my diamonds?

I don't know yet, Mr. Gold.

I want my diamonds back in 48 hours,

or I will cut off your cock.

Oh Christ.

How we gonna write this shit show up?

- Way it happened, Bob, is we burst through the doors

to be greeted by a crew of hopped-up gangsters blazing lead in our general direction.

What the f...!

It was us... or them.

Right.

Us or them.

- Oh. Lads. Looks like we've got a live one.

I'll call in the paramedics.

- What you do that for? - Forty grand, Bob.

Cost per prisoner per year.

Now, say this shithead gets 20 at Her Majesty's pleasure.

-You're asking the taxpayer to cough three-quarters of a million quid.

That's unconscionable, mate.

All right.

Let's see what Vic Hill's been up to.

Bingo. - Bingo.

Bang up job, boys.

Gold must be worth millions.

Gonna be front page news.

We'll get commendations for this, gents.

- Sorry to be the one to break it to you, Bob,

but there'll be no medals or marching parades for this one.

- Why? - Well...

missus says she'll stop making love to me if I don't buy her a fur coat.

- You make a shit criminal and a shit copper.

What's left for you, Bob?

Sod all! That's what's left for you.

How the hell

did Castillo know about the diamonds?

-Come on, Charlie. We're talking about loose chat and strippers.

Sonny probably owned the joint. It takes one phone call.

- Let's just tell Saul Gold who heisted him.

He'll get the ice back

and redecorate El Flamingo with bits of Sonny's skull.

- But Sonny ain't Saul's problem, is it? It's ours.

- We guaranteed delivery, so we gotta sort this shit out.

- Well, bar selling selective body parts,

we only have two viable options...

Either we fence some of the gold and raise the cash...

or retrieve the diamonds.

Retrieval. Lotti Mott.

She can work with us from the inside.

We go in hard, we go in heavy, and we light the place up.

She's a hot mess.

You need to wipe your glasses, pal.

They've come over all misty.

- Yeah, son, if you've got any better ideas, then share 'em.

- Yeah, we fence some of the gold...

without sparking the enthusiasm

of the local criminal fraternity.

The girl working at Saul's... She's pin sharp.

She knows the business. Chloe Koen is our ticket.

I want those diamonds back.

Let's take Lotti Mott for a walk, shall we?

Everything go to plan?

- What's your boy done with my diamonds?

-Come again? -Don't play the innocent with me, Vic.

Your boy says that he got turned over,

which as a result has put me and, conversely, you

a quarter-bar in the red.

- My boy wouldn't rip you off, Saul.

He knows what's what. I'll talk to him

and get back to ya. You iron this proper now, Vic...

or your boy will feel the sharp end of my very sharp stick.

Oh! Vic, in the meantime,

all those privileges you enjoy in that shithole

that make your miserable existence

marginally less miserable are revoked.

What did you do, son?

What did you do?

- So, you want to raid El Flamingo,

get the stones back, and you want me to work the thing for you

from the inside? - That's the short of it.

And what's in it for me?

- Well, we cut you in. - Diamonds?

- No, no, no, no. The ice goes back to Saul Gold.

- Then what? - Come on, you know what, Lotti.

I want to hear him say it.

- Gold. - I knew it.

I knew it! - Will you shut up?

Listen, no word to anybody, all right?

This is some seriously heavy shit.

- This is some heavy shit, all right.

- All right. So you up for it or not?

- Equal partners. - No. No.

You're a junior partner. That's it.

Good luck with Saul Gold, boys.

All right.

All right.

Equal partners.

Hate 'Em.

Hate 'Em!

- What? - Phone's on the piss.

You top it up? - Yeah, last week.

Should be fully loaded. - Well, it's not bloody working.

Mine's gone down as well.

Come on. Come on.

Bingo.

What you got there, Fink? Hmm?

- Uhh... fraud case. Luxury goods,

knockoff Harrods hampers.

The Harrods Hamper Caper.

- Yeah. - Just your speed, Bob.

You know, a little birdy told me

you spoke with the armored truck driver.

- Truck driver? - Mmm.

This bullion robbery is strictly Flying Squad business.

We're on it. - Understood. You're on it, Teri.

-And if I found out that you've been tailing our investigation again,

I'll kick you square in those raisins that you call bollocks.

Message received.

Loud and clear.

Hey.

Good boy.

Hello.

These are staff quarters.

Strictly off-limits. The party's upstairs.

- I'm not here for the party. - You're not?

Uhh... what are you doing?

Who are you? - D.I. Fink.

- Well, will you kindly state your business, sir?

I'm looking for a pair of monogrammed slippers.

- Sir, I don't know what you are referring to.

I would like to see proper identification.

Shift.

Oh my gosh.

Hello, gents.

This is what you're up against.

- I left something in the safe room.

- I can't let you in there, Lotti.

Oh, Manny.

Please do one little thing for me.

You're always there when I need you.

Could you open up the safe room?

Think I left my knickers inside.

We were...

Sonny likes to...

in the safe room... for the cameras.

All the angles, if you know what I mean.

Mmm!

Don't be in such a rush, Manny.

I'll come and find you later and you can fill your boots.

Must've left my knickers somewhere else. Laters!

- Thank you for that. That was... that was helpful.

I just gave you the layout to Sonny Castillo's safe room.

Now, what's the plan?

- Well, that's something that we need to discuss internally.

Without you.

-Your boss is a dick. -Well, he isn't my boss. He's my mate.

- Cheers, bro. - Shut up.

-Well, your mate... that bosses everyone around is a dick.

If you want to turn Sonny Castillo over, you're gonna need me.

You're gonna need me in all the way.

I can work this thing from the inside

whilst you lot play silly safecrackers.

She's not wrong, Al.

- And you can keep Sonny distracted, can ya?

What do you think?

Boys, mark this down.

If you're not seen back in here in less than two weeks,

send Brian round and drag him out to 'em yard.

You have to cut your hair regular, you know?

I'm after a fella called...

- Windrush. - -...Windrush.

I hear he can help with pest control.

Ooh. Windrush isn't here.

You can take Henry.

Okay.

I'll take Henry.

Shit.

What you wearing those for?

Lucky slippers.

- Relax, boys. - Come on then.

-What you done now, Charlie? -Oh, I just forgot my dad's birthday.

Nothing a bottle of scotch wouldn't fix.

- We're gonna need a proper safecracker.

- Yeah, all right. Where we gonna find one of them?

Come through.

Bollocks.

This is medieval, this is. Now they're depriving us of basic human necessities.

Got a long reach, this Saul Gold, isn't he, eh?

- He's not bloody God, Hate 'Em. It's just a coincidence.

- Really? - Got a visitor, Mr. H.