The Night Manager

What's the Haven?

You were in the army, weren't you?

Iraq.

Well, then, you should feel very much at home.

What's this?

That is a coded account summary

of the entire operation.

A complete list of people cash-flowing the deal,

a summary of expenses, names of consultants,

profit margins, the whole shooting match.

And yet somehow...

this found its way into the hands

of a British enforcement official called Angela Burr.

Now, here's the problem.

There are only two people in the world

who have that list in their possession.

Sandy Langbourne and me.

So how did Angela Burr get it?

There's, erm, Sandy.

He'd never betray you.

Anyone can betray anyone, Jonathan.

You should know that.

Whose handwriting is this?

Apostol.

Our Spanish lawyer friend.

It's why he's no longer with us.

- You should call off the sale. - Oh, they would love that.

Whitehall pricks in the foyer.

I'm not gonna give up that easy.

I'll just have to plug the leak.

Is it Langbourne? Corkoran?

Jed.

Or you.

Is it you, Jonathan?

No.

Well, whoever it is,

they are living on borrowed time.

Good trip, sir?

Very good, Jasper, thank you, yes.

May I introduce Mr Andrew Birch, Director of Tradepass.

We will be facilitating Mr Birch's sale.

Pleasure to meet you, Mr Birch.

I assume Mr Birch's merchandise got here safely?

The trucks arrived this morning.

You missed a hell of a storm last night, sir.

It is not a fair world.

No, it isn't.

Syrian border's 200 miles to the south.

Refugee camps are all around us here.

Come here with nothing, lives ripped apart, homes destroyed.

Who are the taxis for?

The Western aid workers

who can't get to the airport fast enough.

Still, we do our bit, don't we, Jasper?

Yes, sir.

This is our little contribution.

A safe haven for the wretched of the earth.

Hello, hello. How are you? How are you?

Salaam alaikum.

Hello, how are you?

How are you, young man?

Salaam alaikum. Let's see what we have here.

There we go.

Oh, my goodness! See if we can get a picture.

Let's smile at the camera, shall we? Excellent.

Can you carry a box on your own? You stay there.

See if you can carry this on your own.

There you go. Alright, very nice to see you.

Justifies us being here.

Means no one asks any questions about our other activities.

Tabby, collect the phones. No calls in or out.

Frisky, see if you can get Mr Birch some suitable gear.

- Site been cleared? - Happening as we speak.

Firework display. You're in charge.

You've got homework: make sure you know what you're selling.

Sir, this way.

Welcome to the Haven.

Er, you asked to see me.

Rex.

The royal household have been in touch.

Informally, so don't go spreading it around.

The Palace do tend to get rather edgy about that sort of thing.

They're looking for a new private secretary.

Some rookie's made too many mistakes

and they want someone with tact and experience

to take over the position.

Tea with the Queen.

Nice work if you can get it.

And I'm... I'm going to get it, am I?

Well, only if you want it.

Of course.

Private jet left Istanbul at 8:20 a.m.,

but we have no satellite information after that.

Why not?

The Turks need a higher- level request for flight intel.

- So get me one. - They said no.

I've lost my boy and I need to know where he is!

Right, so this is what we know.

A British ship called the Leila Jane

docked in Istanbul two days ago.

It's got no right to be anywhere near Istanbul.

It should be in the Azores and full of crop sprayers.

Now it's gone again.

But cargo was taken off in Istanbul and her cargo was this.

British and American arms.

Seven new deals in the last month.

Now, they're selling to a no-go customer in the Middle East

and the middle man is Richard Roper.

He is going to Turkey to meet the buyer

at a place called the Haven.

I need more money, I need personnel on the ground,

and somebody to tell me where my agent is!

Listen. Listen.

The Permanent Secretary has requested

that I no longer manage enforcement agencies.

As of the end of this week, I'll be reassigned.

The Permanent Secretary leaked my intelligence to Dromgoole.

She's part of it.

Her job is to preserve the status quo.

Whatever it takes.

When a continent enters into chaos,

that's when opportunities open up.

The British knew it in China, the Yanks in South America.

I'm doing the same here.

We can train armies to fight in deserts,

mountains, we can teach them anti-guerrilla tactics,

how to deal with political insurgency.

And for a small surcharge, we can even

send in teams of our own to deal with specific targets.

Assassinations, fake terror plots, even the odd coup.

Can't we, Jasper?

Yes, sir.

Jasper looks like a teddy bear,

but don't let him near your neck on a bad day.

- Good to see you, sir. - How are you, Aiden?

Good. Looking forward to playing with the new toys.

Boys keeping fit?

Not a bad set-up, is it?

It's unbelievable.

- He's got his own country. - Not just a country, old boy.

This is a kingdom.

Look sharp! Mr Roper on deck!

- Morning, sir. - Morning.

Alright. Alright. Alright.

You fellows been busy while I've been gone?

Soldiers: Yeah!

All ready for you, Chief. Spick-and-span.

Glad to hear it. Andrew, come here.

'Cause Mr Birch here

wants to put on a good show for our guests tonight.

So I want you to give him all the help he needs.

He has worn khaki himself,

so don't feel you need to talk pretty.

Andrew Birch. Which regiment were you in?

First Battalion, Fusiliers.

You lost two men in Basra, 2005. I was there.

Yes, sir. Good friends of mine.

- Why'd you leave? - Same as you, I'd imagine.

I'd done three tours. Time to cash in the chips.

And become a mercenary.

Every soldier fights for money if he's got half a brain.

You were paid in Iraq, weren't you?

These men are selling their skills, same as anyone else.

Yeah!

Actually, no, not the same.

What you're looking at here is the real United Nations.

Yes!

You've got Americans, Russians,

Ukrainians, Serbs, Croats, Angolans...

Latvian, come on!

One Latvian, but a very loud one.

All living, working together.

One big happy family.

Aye, but with no mum!

Well, in that case, I will be mother.

Don't be a tit, Sandy.

These men are about to operate some extremely heavy machinery.

Besides, they wouldn't be anything like cold enough.

How have you been, Alexei? Leg alright?

Something's wrong.

He's treating me like I just shot his mother.

He thinks there might be a rotten apple.

What d'you mean?

Don't be ridiculous.

Mr Barghati.

- Salaam alaikum. - Walaikum assalam, Mr Birch.

Just this way. Please have some tea.

OK, Jasper, let's start the show.

Yes, sir.

Frisky, you're gonna need these.

- Mr Langbourne, sir. - Thank you.

- Mr Barghati, sir. - Thank you.

- Will it be loud? - I certainly hope so, sir.

This is Guy Fawkes. All players on the flare in ten.

Copy, Guy Fawkes, on the flare in ten.

Mr Barghati. Would you care to do the honours?

Why not? Thank you.

Forty-five degrees straight into the sky.

It has a bit of a kick.

Thank you, sir.