Kick the Wasp's Nest

How long were you undercover?

This last hop, six years.

You had an ordinary life out there?

Just had to look like one.

And sexual relationships?

Samia. How do you cope with that?

How's Martian settling in?

It's not always easy to switch off.

I want you to train a new agent.

Daniela Ruiz Morata.

You're being sent to Tehran

to identify Iranian nuclear engineers.

Coyote was arrested.

The Russians have him.

Coyote knows that operation's

currently ongoing in Ukraine.

All covert activities may be compromised.

I believe Samia Zahir to be of enormous value.

And you want us to recruit her.

The agency needs

to know about the negotiations.

They need someone in the same room.

I will never betray my country.

They will find out about us.

They will arrest you and kill you.

- Is he in? - He's meeting the Brits.

You two know each other?

We know what he wants.

Find out what he's prepared to do to get it.

You're asking me to become a double.

They don't know Coyote like I know him.

- We need a break. - So we make one.

Get on the ground. Get into his apartment.

Intel's saying Coyote's been moved behind enemy lines

by Valhalla.

Rescue is a go.

That's him. He had Coyote.

Whatever happens,

you keep going.

I'm in Tehran.

You almost killed me.

I never "almost" do anything.

Can you get Samia out?

You tell me.

All you have to do

is keep a secret.

We're taught that emotions aren't the truth.

Impulses.

Memories.

Smell, touch, taste.

I will lie.

I will sacrifice people.

All in service of a single, impossible goal:

To prove everything I felt--

everything I feel--

is the truth.

I've never met anyone who works in the S and T.

S and T don't socialize.

We're mostly geeky,

friendless loners.

But we know all your secret shit,

- so don't fuck with us. - Oh.

So, what do you do?

You already know. You're bugging me.

My depo doesn't listen internally.

But I know who to ask.

Let's just say I handle parts of Africa.

Let's say I handle parts of Europe.

Small world.

I was a field agent.

Non-Official Cover.

Now I run NOCs from behind a desk.

Well, I keep an ear on our British friends.

Thought you said you didn't have any friends.

1452-

H8ks/17.

Hannah Watson.

Working surveillance of GCHQ.

Divorced, one kid.

Thank you, sir.

1452-

H8ks/17.

Never leave a trace.

No electronic or physical evidence.

No email. No paper.

No recordings.

I have a very good memory.

But a sharp memory has a double edge.

When what you do hurts people,

being able to forget is a gift.

A faultless memory weighs heavier and heavier...

until it's a curse.

1452-

H8ks/17.

Hannah Watson.

Mr. Colby. Here for physio.

Already done that.

Don't you trust us?

What's the matter? Lost your bottle?

Scared of being caught?

I'm scared.

I'm scared of being stopped before Sami is released.

After that, doesn't matter.

Hannah Watson.

Divorced. One kid. Lonely.

Job's her life. Various exploitable vulnerabilities.

And she's watching you Brits.

She's a perfect target.

Mm.

Great work.

So what's going on?

It's been two months.

An operation was attempted.

When?

Recently.

Why didn't you tell me?

- Where? - The RSF were

moving her from a police station in Mogran,

where she'd been interrogated, back to Kober Prison.

Our SAS surveillance team saw a chance.

- And failed. - I'm sorry.

Is she alive?

Samia's alive.

We have confirmation of that.

Then you know where she is.

We're working on that.

Great work. You kicked the fuckin' wasp's nest.

Now they know she's valuable.

This was all for nothing.

I'm out.

- Yes? - Hey. He's here.

We're ready. Where are you?

I'm on my way.

- Peter. - Martian.

Hey.

How are you holding up?

Ah, better than having a bag over my head.

I bet.

Which safe house they stash you in?

The farm?

Pigeon shit, mice...

...canned beans...

I loved every minute of it.

Look, I heard what you did.

Um... All of you.

Thank you guys. Thank you.

Can we get you anything before we start?

Vodka.

Make it a bottle.

Uh, interview resumed at 1503.

Let's follow the money.

So the night you went missing,

who else was there?

I was at the Hilton with Micky Lavrov.

We had business together.

What kind of business?

Rich Russian guy. Wanted a yield.

Commodity trading. Currency deals.

Lots of linked transactions.

Almost-legal small-scale speculation.

- Almost? - Yeah, these guys expect

a high return. Fully legit won't cut it.

Could Lavrov have drugged you?

Nah.

He's just a money guy.

Were you aware that

Lavrov and a number of your other clients

had their profits funneled into shell companies

straight into Valhalla bank accounts?

Impossible.

I'd know.

Right.

You'd know.

Are you fucking joking me?

Are you f...

That was my cover.

Assholes, you gave me the cover.

I'm out there trying to save lives,

not put money in Russian fucking coffers.

Are you saying my cover did more damage to us

than my mission did to them?

Aw, fuck you! Fuck you both.

You know better than that.

Let's take a break.

Eight years of my life,

and you think I'd flip for a fucking ruble?

Was that an act?

I read no fear signals.

Nothing that would suggest masking.