Steal

- -

- Start talking. - Okay. Look.

I know you haven't been paid yet.

I have 5 million.

Help me escape,

and we split it two ways.

Two and a half million's not gonna cut it.

Not when I can wait here another day or two.

So what? Wait here with people that don't trust you?

Hey, but... And like I said,

who's to say you're even gonna get paid?

Maybe you're just waiting here to get bumped off? Or nicked?

At least with me, you know it's guaranteed.

Okay, for 5 million.

5 million.

You're never gonna give me all your money.

I'd have to kill you.

I'm not offering you my 5 million.

Zara?

You take her money, and you get your revenge.

Zara?

How about we go for a walk?

Bastards won't let us vape inside.

It's part of the reason we're meeting out here.

It's the only reason, actually.

They make me put this through the scanner every time I leave,

hence the signing in and out. Takes ten minutes, all in all.

I try to make the most of every trip.

Look, Zara, we've been following you. We know that you're involved.

We know that you've been running a sub Rosa investigation

with DCI Rhys Covaci.

That you have valuable info no one else has.

Zara, listen.

We're your best option.

We want the same things.

Do we?

Well, you want things to go back to normal. Your old life.

That's what we want.

We keep things ticking over so everyone can wake up in the morning

and not have to worry about riots, terrorist attacks.

The financial system's buckling 'cause a pension heist

caused a collapse in confidence.

So, please,

tell us what you know.

- Or what? - Or we're fucking MI5.

We can kill you and make it look like a stroke.

Or like you got stabbed in a mugging, or just plain old suicide.

- I want a deal. - Oh, no. You're not in a position...

I think someone else was involved at Lochmill.

Someone high up.

Maybe the person who organised it all.

Who is it?

I don't know yet.

- Fuck's sake. - But I'm working on it.

Just give me a day or two.

And in return,

I wanna to stay out of prison

and keep my money.

Yeah. No, we don't do get-out-of-jail-free cards.

But what I can offer you is a new identity.

New name, new passport, new history, new future.

What's the catch?

Well, firstly, you can't stay in the country.

Secondly, what you give us can't be chicken feed.

And thirdly, give it to us alone.

Not to your, uh,

boyfriend in the police.

He's not my boyfriend.

And what the fuck is your problem with the police, anyway?

What if it turns out the money was stolen by one of Britain's enemies?

The police don't care about that.

They'll follow this wherever it goes. That's their job.

But for us, we find the narrative going somewhere that might destabilise things,

well, we steer it in a different direction as gently as we can.

And if an innocent policeman gets thrown under the bus... so be it.

He's a gambling addict.

- - Did you know that? Fucking massive debts.

The kind you'd do anything to pay off. You get what I mean?

That's not what's happening.

Oh, right. You thought you were playing him?

No. No, no, no. You're in the big league now.

It's about the end game.

And the million different ways you might not survive it.

So... find the insider.

And pick a team.

The fuck-up gambler who's after your money,

or us.

Hi, it's Zara. Please leave a message.

Earlier today, Gould-Symmons issued a statement to the press

reiterating that the company had nothing to do with the heist.

In the wake of this statement,

the chancellor of the Exchequer held a press conference

where they tried to offer reassurance to those affected by the heist.

So, do you think this will do anything

to provide the reassurance that they're after?

I noticed the chancellor didn't say that a bailout has been agreed upon

or how big it will be.

We could be talking pennies on the pound.

Why was the money moved to Gould's accounts?

Who knows? Who's behind it all?

Who knows?

What's the point?

All together now, who knows?

As everyone but Britain's police tries to answer these questions,

the country's favourite arms dealer insists that he did nothing wrong,

for those dodgy British Virgin Island accounts,

for paying bribes to psychopath dictators in return for promises

- to buy weapons of mass destruction. -

Fuck.

How'd you get my address?

You left your driver's licence in the car the other night.

You can't be here.

How big of a problem is your gambling?

What?

- How much debt are you in? - Why do you think I'm in debt?

The poker playing, risk taking.

I mean, it makes sense there'd be damage, right?

Why do you care?

Zara,

I'm not interested in your money. I'm not playing you.

- But you are in debt. - Yes.

- How much? -

Just under 100 grand, and I have a week to pay it off.

Or what?

Or it gets sold on from someone I know to people I don't even wanna think about.

If I gave you the money, would you take it?

- Yeah. - So you were lying before

- when you said you weren't after my money? - No.

I'm in debt. That is not why I'm doing this.

I'm doing this because I don't like being pushed around.

- I need to know what is going on... - I don't believe you.

There's something else.

All I've got is my job, Zara.

If I lose it,

I'll have nothing but poker tables.

And I don't know where I'll end up.

That's why I'm doing this.

Save myself from myself.

That is... the entire

honest to God... genuine truth.

You believe me now?

Yeah.

Good.

- -

Cheers.

I'm... I'm sorry about just now.

I just...

I overthink things, and...

I'm... I'm sorry if I'm doing your head in.

You're not.

I'm glad you came round.

Really?

Yeah.

God knows why, but I like spending time with you.

- I'll just... Should I make... - I just wanted to say...

Tea?

What is it?

It's the fingerprint lab.

They sent over some possible matches. Have a look through.

- I'll put the kettle on. - Yeah.

Nothing's changed, okay?

Just go to work, run risk reports till I figure out who's behind it all.

And stay safe.

Anything happens, call me.

I'm here in Westminster as we await the arrival of Andrew Bains

for a press conference,

the sudden announcement of which, I must say,

left all of us political correspondents scrambling.

It comes in the wake of the revelations published

- in today's Times... - What's going on?

There's been another leak.

The money's turned up in some dodgy offshore accounts

linked to a family trust set up by the chancellor.

You're shitting me.

What do you have to say about these allegations?

I'll, erm... I'll be giving a statement in due course.

- -

Number ten have yet to deny the truth of the claims...

We've been informed that the chancellor will be making a statement later...

I need to talk to you about something.

You've been running Risk Modelling Software.

Like, all of yesterday?

Maybe keyed up half a dozen simulations?

- Maybe. - You're not on the Risk team.

What you playing at?

Look, it's all these re-balancing trades.

I need to run risk reports.

And half the office is on leave, so I'm just taking the initiative.

Okay.

Well, every time you run a simulation, the app generates millions of regressions.

- I know how it works, Wayne. - Which means you've been

locking up the server.

- Oh. - Yeah. "Oh."

Yeah, no one else can run anything.

I was getting complaints all yesterday until I figured out what was going on.