Slow Horses

Got a call to go to a car park under some flats.

- Near the Edgware Road? - Yeah.

You said it wasn't the car that killed him.

So how'd he die?

Rebecca, how'd he die?

When I got there, he was already there.

No, we didn't.

Yes, you did. You spiked my vodka with vodka.

- Right. - Be careful, okay?

Look before you make turns.

Uh, one of them was holding him up on his bike.

No, I'll be fine once I get going.

He was fine. He was drunk or maybe taking something.

Then, uh, another one...

...started choking him.

This third guy got in my car and hit him.

Uh, there was a guy watching. He left.

Get a good look at him?

Huh, then what?

He was still alive, but he was in a bad way.

So the third guy, the one that choked him, he...

He finished him off.

How?

What'd he look like?

Big, fifties, shaved head.

Fucking terrifying.

Then they put him and his bike in the back of a van.

They drove to where he was found.

Then they told me to call an ambulance

and say your friend cycled out in front of me.

- The two that ran him over. - Yeah.

- You've seen them before? - Yeah.

Uh, well, I've couriered for that one.

Don't ask me what. I don't look.

- All right. The one lurking. Is that him? - Maybe. I don't know.

I don't know.

- Didn't get a good look at him. - All right.

- And this is who killed him? - Yeah, that's him.

The language school where you collected the money,

is that the, uh, usual pickup?

No, it's new.

Was anyone there when you collected it?

No, they gave me a key

and told me to put it through the letter box after.

All right. Thank you, Rebecca.

You said you'd keep me safe if I told you everything.

Okay. Here.

Uh. I'm gonna give you a number for a service.

Is it a safe house?

New identity? You know I'll need money.

They answer with a rotating cover, changes every month.

Just give them the name "Jackson Lamb,"

and when they ask you what you want, you say number seven.

Number seven.

That's it. And they should be with you in about half an hour.

All right.

Hello?

Hi, I was told to call this number by Jackson Lamb.

- He told me to ask for number seven. - Can you hold, please?

Yeah, I'll hold.

- Do you want his favorite? - Sorry. What?

Number seven .

Uh. Uh, I don't understand.

Number seven's Mr. Lamb's favorite, double noodles.

Do you want his sides with that?

Nothing's left outside, is it?

Definitely looks like rain.

- Is no one going to eat? - No--

I feel self-conscious

- with all of you just watching me. - Mmm.

Well, have you come far then, Leo?

Not that Alex's excellent cooking isn't worth traveling for, of course.

I had some business in Worcester.

This is a small detour on my way back to London.

He's always been like this, dropping in and out.

- Yeah. - Take him when we can get him.

Mm-hmm.

How about you, Mr. Walker? You're from around here?

No. No, no. I'm a journalist.

I'm here, um, doing a small piece on village life.

Mmm.

Uh, yeah. Kelly's been very kindly showing me around.

Mm-hmm, I have.

So, you're undercover?

No. Not undercover, no. No.

I don't think I've got the nerve for that kind of thing.

What big story will you find? This is a very sleepy village.

- You find all sorts behind the curtains. - Mmm.

Right.

But I bet you're pulling them back for him.

- Oh. - She's a very nosy woman.

- Excuse me. - You can say that again.

No. In a good way.

What have you discovered so far?

Uh, well, that I'm not as good a flier as I first thought.

Either that or Kelly's not as good a pilot as she thought.

I think you were right the first time.

Um. But no, I've been hearing all about the village gossip.

And, um-- And the poacher.

- Dangerous business, poaching. - Mmm.

Yeah, it is.

Does he use traps or guns? Or poison?

Depends on the animal.

Well, this has taken a rather bleak turn.

- Coffee anyone? - Yes, please.

- Right, okay. - Shall I, um--

- No, no. You're a guest. Sit down. - Oh.

Okay, Kelly, would you mind just bringing those strawberries out?

Mm-hmm.

- Okay. - Excuse me.

A word of warning, my friend.

Alex makes disgusting coffee.

Hello. Um, can I get a-a-a vodka tonic, please?

- Sure. - Thank you.

Hello.

Hi.

- Oh. Sorry, mate. - You're all right.

You have reached the Westbrook Academy of English Language.

Please leave your name and number

and we'll get back to you shortly. Thank you.

Pick up, Mr. Lamb.

Your answer message is the only professional thing

in this shithole.

You are trying to deflect your unease with humor?

Too proud to ask how I know you are there?

I'm guessing 'cause you're watching me.

Although given your situation,

you might find better things to do with your time.

Such as?

Bona fide medical treatment for a start. Google says it's your liver.

Seven months ago, they said six months.

Injury time now.

But the question is, Nikky,

what kind of injury are you planning on doing?

After I defected,

my former bosses made clear

that they would take no retribution.

Provided that one day, if asked, I would help. And they asked.

What was the nature of their request?

I'm just a small cog, Mr. Lamb.

I was simply told to keep you looking in one place

while they do something in another.

Fuck!

You hack that watch?

All I had to do was open the fitness app.

Upstairs. Now!

You seem, um, I don't know, a bit tense.

Just wondering why you're here.

- Oh. Now you're being defensive. - Should I be?

Well, I am MI5.

- Oh. Hmm. - You already knew that.

So all our cards are now on the table.

Mine are. Are yours?

I'm not exactly sure what you want me to say.

The Heathrow CCTV.

It turns out Chernitsky never left the country.

Did you hear me?

Chernitsky never left the country. I know that.

How?

Because he murdered Harper.

I spoke to the driver, Rebecca Mitchell.

Only she wasn't driving.

Pashkin's security ran Harper over

before Chernitsky delivered the coup de grâce.

Pashkin?

He-- He-- He tapped him like he tapped Dickie.

He's got some poison thing going on like he's Rosa fucking Klebb.

When the Park finds out, they'll pull the operation. We'll never get them.

Mmm. That's why I'm not telling them.

Taverner will save face

by sweeping the whole bloody thing under the rug.

Those fuckers will be deported, and their names scrubbed

from every flight manifest from here to Yakutsk.

They killed two of my joes. It's not happening.

Do we tell Louisa?

Yeah. Well, I would if she would answer her fucking phone.

- So, how long have you worked for Nevsky? - Coming up to five years.

And before that? What, guessing still at school?

Well, Nevsky saw something in me when I was very young.

- What was that? - Hunger.

Uh, the people he had around him were lazy.

So did you just roll in and-- and get rid of them?

Well, they got rid of themselves.

But, uh, that's what happens when successful people come along. No?

Well, I wouldn't know.

Ah, come on. You're MI5. That is very successful.

Oh, yeah, I'm not-- not typical MI5.

I'm kind of in internal exile,

in a department where they put all the undesirables.

Well, I find that hard to believe.

Cute, but I-- I am undesirable in their eyes.

Why?

It's not a moment I wish to revisit.

So why don't you quit?

Because I don't want that to be the end of my story.

I don't want to die in Slough House like my boss will.

And I don't wanna die

before I have a chance to get out like Min.

Min?

Min Harper. My colleague who died.