Slow Horses

Oh, for fuck's sake, Cartwright. Not now.

Here, give me your phone.

- Huh? - Give me your phone!

- Phone. - For what?

Just give me your phone.

Where's Harper?

- What the fuck? Who's th... - Hey. Phone.

- My phone? - Your phone!

Fuck off. I FaceTime my kids on this.

I don't care if you ArseTime the Pope on it. Give it to me.

Service phones have tracking enabled.

We need to disappear.

Now, you three, go fetch Ho and Loy.

And you better move it unless you want the Dogs to bite your cocks off.

Yeah, hold... We don't know where they live.

423 Middlesex Court, Hackney.

16 Mervan Road, Brixton.

You can figure out the fucking postcodes yourselves.

- Then where? - You know where.

Where?

Blake's grave.

W... wait, where?

I've definitely seen him before. I recognized him.

- Who? - The head.

He's one of us.

Was one of us.

What did you do? What the fuck just happened?

He was a traitor.

A spook.

I spoke to Simmonds.

When?

I had a prepaid. Can't be traced.

Look, if I hadn't dealt with that scum,

we'd still be sitting there waiting for the cops to show up.

Or the SAS.

And those bastards shoot to kill.

What I did was self-defense.

Self-defense? He was unarmed.

- He'd have done the same to us. - The same to us how?

He'd have slung us in jail, that's how!

How long do you think we'd last in there?

Bleeding out in the corner from some terrorist shank.

- I ain't going out like that. - No, mate. That doesn't make any sense

because he organized it, didn't he?

Remember?

He came to us, yeah?

And then we all took the plan to Simmonds.

He set us up!

- Nah. - He was too keen, too hard-line.

He'd never have gone through with it.

We weren't supposed to see it through.

No one was supposed to die.

- That was the point. - What are we gonna do?

He's playing cards, and you cut his fucking head off!

- What the fuck are we gonna fucking do? - Whoa, whoa. Take it easy!

Shh. Take it easy. I say, I say...

Listen. We let the kid go.

- He can identify us. - No, no, no.

He's been hooded up.

He's caught a glimpse at best.

He's heard our voices. He's listening to you right now.

So... So what? So what?

He doesn't know our names, yeah?

Danny Campbell, 14 Dunlop Terrace.

Hey! La, la, la, la, la. Hey!

What are you fucking playing at, hey?

Hey, kid, did you hear that? Did you hear that?

He's getting a good look at your face right now.

Fuck you. Fuck you.

- Kid, did you hear that? - Mm-mmm.

If he didn't, I can say it again louder.

You are a fucking snake, do you know that?

- I suggest you shut your mouth... - You fucking...

... or I'll say your name and all.

Yeah.

Yeah.

There's been no indication from the security services

to suggest they are any closer

to discovering the whereabouts of the kidnapped student, Hassan Ahmed.

And while many are hoping for his safe return,

there are still millions across the world

who are continuing to share the hostage video.

To explore the situation...

- Yes? - We confirmed the victim. It's Alan Black.

Hassan?

No trace.

Black died about 20 minutes ago.

Lamb?

Gone. His car's here. We're bringing it in.

The back door's been forced, so it looks like he wasn't alone.

Neighbor opposite said she saw a group in a huddle.

Slow Horses.

Whatever it is can wait.

First Desk is on the secure line, ma'am.

Uh, I was told it was urgent.

I have to go.

Secure the scene. Deep clean.

Get here as fast as you can.

Ingrid.

Let me reassure you, there is no need to distract from your trip.

I'm already at the airport, having

walked out of a State Department meeting.

Have you completely lost control over there? What's going on?

- Lamb's gone AWOL. - Christ.

I've been worried about him,

which is why I put Sid Baker in there.

What's Baker saying about Alan Black?

She's in hospital.

She took a bullet in a detail with Cartwright Jr.

Right.

I want Lamb and his rejects off the street and into the Park.

I need to know exactly our level of exposure here.

Where's the boy?

I've pulled everyone in.

SO15 are standing by, and command center is aware.

Clean this up by the time I land.

And if it is the Slow Horses behind it, bury them.

Fuck.

Twenty for the hat.

Cheers.

Min, is there no way to turn that off?

Uh, no. Uh, the CD's jammed in

and... and the stereo doesn't turn off.

Can you at least change the song?

It's stuck. It doesn't turn off. That's the issue.

- Oh, my God. - Fuck me, who cares?

Look, what do we know about Alan Black?

Uh...

I know that he left Slough House about a year ago,

way before you joined.

- Uh-huh. - Where do you know him from?

I t...

- Maybe the Park. - He was kicked out of the Park years ago.

Yeah, for sleeping with the wife of the Venezuelan ambassador.

How did Lamb know to go to that house?

Taverner, must be. He met her earlier.

- What is this? Lamb and Taverner? - Fucking hell.

Lamb's cut us loose.

That envelope he took off Moody, that was his flight fund.

If he wanted to, he could just disappear.

Oh, fucking hell, we are fucked. Fuck, we really are fucked.

Yeah, yeah, but I don't think he will.

He broke me out when I was being guarded by that Dog.

- He didn't have to. - No, no, that's... that's different.

No, look. Lamb will have a play.

He doesn't like to lose.

Okay, so what do we do?

Do we do what Lamb said?

Or do we head to Regent's Park and... and turn ourselves in?

- Stick to Lamb's plan. - Turn ourselves in.

Right. Fine.

I say that we round up everybody,

head to Blake's grave, and if Lamb doesn't show,

then we know he's fucked us.

- Yeah. - Yes, stick to the plan.

Oh, shit, did either of you get Ho or Loy's addresses?

Uh-huh. Yes. It was...

- It was a crescent. - 423 Middlesex Court, Hackney, E9.

16 Mervan Road, Brixton, SW2.

God, and postcodes.

- Bagsy, not get Ho. - Yeah, nor me.

Fucking... Thank you.

Right, you two get Struan. I'll get Ho.

Ma'am.

Where's the boy?

We're tracking multiple vehicles.

What does "multiple" mean?

Thirty-five vehicles passed the traffic cams

at the end of Roupell Street 15 minutes before Lamb went in.

Ma'am, I know it's not my place to ask, but what is going on?

You're right. It's not your place.

Why do you think Lamb bolted?

Maybe he saw Black's head and worried about what it looked like.

It looked like what it was.

The head of the Slow Horse is panicking

because a Slow Horse op went south.

Lamb's gone rogue, and one of my agents is dead.

Jesus Christ.

Who knows about this?

You, me, First Desk, and it stays that way.

I'll keep the Hub on Hassan.

And I want you and your Dogs on the Slow Horses.

I'll bring Lamb in myself.

This is an alias he's likely to use.

If he surfaces, take backup.

Oh, and, Duffy?

If anyone gets hurt, I'd rather it were Lamb.

I can be sure of your silence. I won't lose any sleep over his.

- Where the fuck are we going? - Out of London.

- By the backstreets. No cameras. - Then what?

Why did you tell him my name?

To focus you.

There's only one way out of this.

- What, the boat? - What?

My cousin's boat in Harwich.

- That was the backup plan. - You and that fucking boat.

No, no, no, listen. If it gets us to Holland or France,

- whichever is close... - I'm not getting on a boat, mate.

I've got a little girl.

Hey, you never see your daughter.