Spooks

That's what the job's about.

Don't make a decision you can't live with.

Unidentified government agents meeting in Switzerland.

Talk of a new world order. That's how serious these people are.

That's why we need to find her and stop them.

You're just going to leave and let them win? I'm finished.

'As the Home Secretary resigns amidst allegations of corruption and sleaze,

'we ask, are the security services part of the cover-up?'

Nightingale's been stirring things up. But what the hell is their game?

If we go in, it'll be a bloodbath and they've got Ros Myers in there.

It's the right call.

My only regret about dying is not being around to know what it's like.

The British Home Secretary and the Pakistani President are still

inside that building, and we can't actually move in and get them out? There's no point in us both dying.

Not really part of the job description.

I'm going back for Ros.

Blest who can unconcern'dly find hours, days,

and years slide soft away, In health of body, peace of mind,

Quiet by day,

Sound sleep by night;

Study and ease together mix'd; sweet recreation, and innocence,

Which most does please, with meditation.

Thus let me live, unseen, unknown;

Thus unlamented let me die;

Steal from the world,

and not a stone

Tell where I lie.

I can't believe she chose this place.

It's not really very Ros somehow, is it?

An enigma till the last.

You know, she once told me that friends and lovers were overrated. She only really liked colleagues.

"Liked" might be a bit strong.

I need to talk to you. And I you.

A turn around the grounds?

I feel like she's trying to tell us something.

Like this is what was missing from her life.

Marry me, Ruth.

Harry, this is neither the time nor the place...

This is exactly the time and the place. It's the funeral.

It's made you emotional.

No, it's made me see clearly.

Ros gave everything to this country.

And six people came to say goodbye to her.

Six people, Ruth.

I don't want that for myself.

And I don't want that for you.

Oh, Harry, God, your timing...

Timing is nothing. Timing means everything.

It took you one second to ask me to marry you.

Do you know that in the years gone by, there have been,

thousands of moments in which if you'd asked me the same question, I'd have said yes, always.

But now, after the choices you've...

I can't, Harry.

What did you want to talk to me about?

No, it can wait.

No.

We move on from this.

Um...Nightingale conspirators.

They buried their trails deeper than I've ever seen.

But last night, we came up with something.

He was part of the inner circle, Harry.

He gave the order to bomb the hotel.

But...they smeared him, they forced him to resign.

It was a smokescreen. Everything's in there.

Ever feel like you just can't go on, Ruth?

Can't go on...

must go on.

DOORBELL RINGS

It's only 30 years old, but it should be quaffable.

This is a surprise! Come in.

Forgive the haste.

It's cold here.

Cold, remote and forbidding. Bliss.

So are you rattling around this place all alone?

Not for long, sadly.

Julia and her sister come up tomorrow.

How are you, Harry?

I mean, really? I'll be all the better for this.

To Ros.

To Ros.

Mmm, highly quaffable.

I wanted to ask you.

Was there anything I could do for Ros?

Some recognition I could procure for all the work she did?

Well, come on, man, make yourself at home.

You've still got your gloves on.

I don't suppose it's worth my calling for help,

making myself sick, anything like that.

How did you find out?

Ruth.

That dogged, brilliant bitch.

Will it hurt, Harry?

Not for long.

My family?

It'll look like a heart attack.

There'll be no disgrace.

Thank you.

I'm truly sorry about Ros.

Even if the plan had worked, I would have regretted her sacrifice.

And...

You know, I always liked you, Harry.

I envied you, actually.

Your sure moral sense.

The thing is, though,

that kind of certainty limits a man.

Keeps him small.

That's why you'll never have what I had with Nightingale.

The chance, even for just one moment, to really change everything.

You'll never know what that's like.

HE WHEEZES

I'm about to board.

'Alpha One,'

I don't need to remind you how dangerous this man is.

He's Al-Qaeda's head of African Operations. Be careful.

Got you on the ship's GPS.

Bon voyage.

What's with the prostitute, Captain?

Do you like the blonde? Oh, mate, don't even get me started on blondes.

I was told no women and children on this boat. Are you trying to start a riot or something?

Mr O'Hare, I can't deny my men a chance to make some extra money.

She'll fetch a couple of thousand at the other end.

Good luck.

Thank you.

Sir Harry.

The man, the myth, the legend.

Home Secretary. Please.

Good lumbar support.

My only vice. Amongst others. I trust you can provide a receipt.

Yes.

It does makes one rather nostalgic for the days

of lining one's office with mink at the taxpayer's expense.

Still, knife crime down 2%.

Probably just the honeymoon period, sadly. Well, make the most of it.

Reintroduce slavery and invade Belgium.

I do hope we're going to get on, Sir Harry,

despite your links to the Ancien Regime.

I have no political affiliations, Home Secretary.

I have greater matters in hand.

Ah, well. The ship has been righted, at long last.

Our noble coalition at the helm.

Now, why do we have to raise the threat level?

Hussein Abib.

Rising Al-Qaeda star.

Former Somali warlord.

He's well resourced, and enjoys a reputation for brutality.

And we have intel that he's now planning an attack in the UK.

His martyrdom video states that he wants to

"strike at the heart of British power."

But we think we've found him on a ship sailing out of Morocco.

We've decided to take a pre-emptive stance and nip it in the bud.

I'm talking about a kill order. Well, good luck.

Of course, you'll keep all of this well away from UK territory.

Anything else?

Just this.

It's my resignation.

I know you were close to Ros Myers...

Her death is just one of many reasons, Home Secretary.

And of course, your appointment has no bearing on my decision.

It feels like the appropriate moment.

Listen, Harry. As I ease into my dotage, I've realised that everything in life is about timing,

from sex to the golf swing.

So I'm not going to pick up that envelope yet.

We'll just let it percolate for a few days.

As you wish, Home Secretary.

Yes, everything's cool, everything's set, everything's fun, OK?

It'll be good fun, OK?

Yeah, all right.

Tell you what, mate, if she's clean I'll give you 50

for a couple of hours with her.

Hey! You don't talk to her, eh? She's clean. And she stays clean.

Come on, mate. You can't bring a woman onboard and expect to keep her all to yourself.

No, please.

Oh, I think she's got a soft spot for you.

HE COUGHS

The former Home Secretary's autopsy came through, Harry.

Heart attack.

How sad.

Not really.

Harry, I've got Lucas.

Go ahead, Alpha One. Abib's on board.

Eyeball confirmation.

Are we a go? Complete the operation.

And Lucas, the assassination has to happen whilst you're in international waters.

Understood.

Captain.

Fresh from the Captain's table.

What's that woman doing on board?

Your orders were to keep to a minimum.

We can't afford any collateral.

The crew get a cut of the sale. The old captain allowed it.

If I'd have said no, they may have rejected me.

I don't like it, but that's how it works.

Fine, but after we've done this, I want that girl off this ship.

Of course. Extra ammo and suppressor.

They're in cabin six, upper deck C.

I'll call a crew meeting in two minutes to make sure you don't run into anybody.

You'll have time to get rid of the body.

You know, sir, I could have taken care of this myself.

Walk before you can run, Dimitri.

Er, and Abib had a container loaded on board.