(TRAIN HORN BLOWING)
(PEOPLE TALKING INDISTINCTLY)
Confirming targets.
RICHMOND: We've got you.
(BLEEPING)
GRANT: Target one confirmed, move in.
I repeat, target one, confirmed.
What the fuck is going on?
I'm standing out like a dildo in Disneyland.
STONEBRIDGE: Hold your position. Sierra One, camera up.
We see you.
STONEBRIDGE: Target one is approaching
GRANT: Target One, Beruti Lefu. South African national,
middle-ranking underworld player.
Seen here with a known contact of...
...Latif.
SCOTT: Okay, I've got eyes on The Three Stooges.
Looks like they got to where they're going.
He's hired muscle and he's on the move.
I want you up there.
I want to know what he's carrying.
But most of all, I want to know who he's meeting.
(HIP HOP MUSIC PLAYING)
- Status? - Sierra in position.
Kilo in position.
- Delta in position. - Hey! Who are you talking to?
- All right let's move in. Three, two... - Who are you talking to?
No one buddy, no one, just keep cooking, eh.
What the hell is that?
- Who are you talking to? - Not now buddy, not now.
- What the fuck! - MAN: Who are you talking to?
God!
(LAUGHING)
You talking to God? (LAUGHING)
- Fucking funny, huh? - Hey, God! He's talking to you!
(MAN LAUGHING)
MAN: Hey, God, the American is talking to God!
- Shh, come on. - Shh?
- Yeah. - (LAUGHING)
Ugh, ahhh! You are gonna die, Mr American.
- Did you hear that? - Yeah. Let's go!
Target visual!
MARSHALL: Targets on the move!
Capture. Do not kill. I repeat. Capture, do not kill.
Fuck!
STONEBRIDGE: Fuck.
Stop, put the gun down!
- Shit. - GRANT: Give me status.
Confirm target is alive.
- Is he alive, confirm. Is he alive? - Shit!
Target two is down. I repeat, target two is down.
(MUSIC CONTINUES)
(DOGS BARKING)
Stay down!
Fuck's sake! Capture. Not kill.
(LAUGHING)
RADIO: This is Eyewitness News.
- DRIVER: Are we good to go? - Yeah. Let's hit the road
(LAUGHING)
GUARD: All doors locked, sealed and secured.
Unit 71, travelling.
- GUARD: Okay. You are clear to go. - Roger that.
(WHISTLING)
You better hope he talks.
STONEBRIDGE: If I hadn't taken him out, he would have killed you.
And he only got that chance because of you.
And I don't want you rushing to my assistance, Sergeant.
Okay.
You ended up killing two of the men we were supposed to bring in,
threatening our only lead to Latif.
- If it hadn't been for Scott... - Talking about me again?
Well?
He's the muscle, a petty thief from Soweto.
I'm not being held up by a common criminal.
- Right, with me. - Yes, ma'am.
Now, let me make this clear.
Whoever it is you're most afraid of, right now, is nothing, compared to me.
All right, this guy got family?
Yeah. He got a mother, got a father
- and two sisters. - Right.
Find them. Bring them in. Leave no trace.
- Yes, ma'am. - Wait!
I don't know who the man is who we were going to see.
- I didn't see his face. - What was in the case, hmm?
What was in the case?
Look, what happened out there, happened because of us.
- There is no us. - Kate.
Michael, you made your feelings, perfectly clear.
But when we're out there, you can treat me as a soldier.
He saw route maps for an armoured truck company.
Get them all on the phone.
I want every truck, every driver, stopped and secured now!
- This isn't where my dad lives. - Don't you worry, lad.
You'll see your dad soon enough.
Terry? Jeff, that's my boy!
Jeff, that's my son!
Hey, what the fuck?
RADIO CONTROLLER: Unit 71, state your position.
If we go out there, we are dead.
RADIO CONTROLLER: This is Command Control. Come In. Over.
- Jeff, that's my boy. - You understand?
That's my fucking boy!
RADIO CONTROLLER: This is Command Control. Unit 71, come in. Over.
Unit 71, please respond.
- I'm picking that up. - You can't pick that up, Jeff.
Unit 71, please respond.
That's my boy.
This is Command Control, please state your position.
Over.
State your position, Unit 71
Unit 71, state your position. Over.
Jeff!
Jeff! Fuck man!
RADIO CONTROLLER: Unit 71, please come in. Over.
No!
(SPEAKING NATIVE LANGUAGE)
You listen to your dad. Come over here for a moment.
Hey, hey, where are you taking... Where are you taking my son?
Take me, where are you taking him, sir?
I want you to look at the trees.
You see the way they bend in the wind.
I want you to watch the shapes that they make, okay?
That's a fine boy you have there.
Go.
GUARD: Come on, Hugo. Come on, let's go.
GUARD: Hugo, move! Hugo, Oh, fuck!
For fuck's sake.
Take his hands off. Put a bullet through his teeth.
How did we miss this?
A call did go out but the robbery was already in progress.
All three guards were shot.
What's strange is that no money was taken.
What about the other guy?
Shot, hands severed, jaw blown to pieces,
- presumably to... - To hide his identity, yeah.
Well, the only survivor was the little boy.
Son of one of the dead guards.
He was abducted near his home earlier in the afternoon.
Jesus.
The CCTV in the back of the van was sprayed,
but we've managed to reconfigure
some of the images captured just beforehand.
FEMALE REPORTER: Along with another individual
believed to be a gang member. Very little of the...
- Daniel Connolly. - Hardcore IRA.
The Good Friday Agreement put him on the run.
Kosovo, Chechnya...
Now, he touts himself around as some kind of mercenary.
All right, there was something else on that van.
I want to know what it was.
This is not about money,
this is about hate!
What's the matter?
Tell me.
I had a dream last night.
I was a boy,
back at my mother's old house.
You could smell the chips frying in the kitchen,
and the creaky floorboard on the bottom step.
I came down the stairs and opened the front door.
Someone was standing there,
someone I knew.
- Yeah? - (SIGHS)
They'd come to kill me.
To kill me.
Teague!
So?
Hugo downloaded the files before he got shot.
We're going visiting.
But Daniel, the data's no good to us without a hacker.
- We don't have Hugo. - There's another Hugo coming.
Hey!
- What you got there? - What have I got?
Yeah?
That, Sergeant, is a future proof
and impenetrable encryption data storage unit.
- Wow. - Mmm-hmm.
You know, in my experience,
nothing is impenetrable.
We know it wasn't money they were after, so what was it?
Data on the encryption device.
- What kind of data? - Well, that we don't know.
Different units belonged to various organisations.
But somehow I doubt they were interested in the payroll
for the Cape Town ballet or the University's annual accounts.
They might just be interested
in the security protocols of a major defence contractor,
ATAT systems.
Who's the main man here in Cape Town?
Kenneth Bratton.
- Did you say Bratton? - Yeah.
You have our attention, Sergeant?
Chemical Weapons guy? Latif?
Could be something.
(OPERATIC MUSIC PLAYING)
Mr Bratton?
Who are you people? How did you get in here?
(SQUEALING)
GIRL: Hi, Mom.
CONNOLLY: Lovely family, Ken.
What have you done with them?
They're fine.
They'll be fine.
What do you want?
Oh, I think you know exactly what I want.
You know Bratton was captured by the Republican guard in Iraq?
- And that John... - John Porter got him out.
In February 2003,
no weapons designer should have been anywhere near there.
And that was about the same time Scott was booted out of Delta Force.
What if there's a connection?
The man that got shot in the face at the heist
may have been Hugo Lynch.
A computer hacker that worked with Connolly.
Why?
Because a new computer hacker just came to town.
An American known as Julian Buckley.
Wanted for cleaning out the United Bank of Ireland two years ago.
- And he's been flagged? - Mmm-hmm, by Interpol.
In from Kinshasa.
Paid for his ticket in cash two hours before the flight.
And you think he's a replacement for Lynch?
I think it's a possibility, Colonel.
I've tracked his hire car to an address in the Bo-Kaap area.
Colonel, I'd like to volunteer to talk to Bratton.
- Volunteer? - Yes, ma'am.
No. Stonebridge!
Right. I need you guys out in the field.
Finally.
You're gonna be tracking a man called Buckley.
Sergeant Richmond will brief you.
- I need you to go and see Bratton. - Okay.
All right, kid gloves.
You have your orders.
You know, I'm the one that should be talking to Bratton.
- Now's not the time. - Now's not the time?
Well, let me remind you of something, buddy.
I'm the guy who got kicked out the army, for something that I did not do.
And pricks like Bratton are out there playing
"hide the fucking chemical weapons."
- You don't know that. - I do know that.
Something else I know, I got screwed over in Iraq by someone.
I want to find them. I want to kill them.
I thought you were with me on that one.
I just think maybe you're letting your personal life
get in the way of this mission.
Personal life?
That's fucking funny coming from you.
What are you talking about?
I'll tell you what I'm talking about, Michael.
If you want to play hide the sausage with Kate...
Oh, that's genius coming from you,
you have no fucking clue what you're talking about.
Prick!
Asshole.
That's him.
I've never been so glad to see a terrorist in all my life.
- Thank you for seeing me so quickly. - It's fine.
I know the British High Commission isn't in the business
of wasting people's time.
And you're here as a...
Criminal Intelligence liaison with the South African police.
Right.
Miss Marshall, this is Darin Morgan.
- Pleasure. - You're with ATAT?
He's our military consultant.
Just oiling the wheels, that's all.
If you'd like to come through.
Thank you for your concern.
As a result of the robbery, I've already requested
that our security codes are changed immediately.
Well, if I can advise you, sir. I do think you need to be careful.
Of course.
Have you had any contact with this man?
- No. Who is he? - His name is Daniel Connolly.
We believe he may be allied with a terrorist called Latif.
He's the one who attacked the hotel in India.
His stated aim is to attack the West with a weapon of mass destruction.
Well, he's looking in the wrong place.
We design weapon systems here, but we don't house them.
That would be against South African law, and we're very scrupulous.
- Your family not around? - No, school holidays.
- They're at our beach house. - Sounds nice.
Hmm, yeah, it is.
I appreciate the offer, but really, my security is more than adequate.
I understand you were in Iraq, Before the invasion.
- Yeah, that's right. - Doing what, might I ask.
I was asked to report on Saddam's weapons stocks.
- Which was non-existent? - Well, he fooled cleverer men than me.
Here's my card.
Thank you.
She's military.
What did she want?
Uh, something about the, uh, bank truck robbery.
What's that got to do with Iraq?
I don't know.
Let me speak to a contact in Whitehall.
I'll find out where she's from and get them to back off.
DARIN: We don't want any trouble, Ken.
(HORNS HONKING)
What the fuck is going on?
(PEOPLE ARGUING)
Fuck, I think he made us.
No he didn't make us.
Shit. He made us. Move, move, move!
You go around, buddy!
Move! Move!
Stay! Stay!
(GUN SHOT)
Fuck!
(PEOPLE SCREAMING)
Fuck! Somebody call an ambulance!
(PEOPLE SCREAMING)
Move! Fucking move.
Fuck!
(CAR HORNS HONKING)
What the fuck are you doing, man?
(GRUNTING)
(BOTH GRUNTING)
Michael, get a medic!
- (MOBILE PHONE RINGING) - Fuck!
Yeah?
You were supposed to call 20 minutes ago.
Yeah, well I'm here now, huh?
The Kimberley hotel.
Be there in 10 minutes. No weapons or the deal's off.
Kimberley Hotel, 10 minutes. Got it.
(SIREN WAILING)
Don't worry about that! Come on, come on, come on!
Bring that up.
Colonel Grant, you wanted to speak to me?
When you met with Kenneth Bratton?
Did you at any point intimate that he was lying?
Certainly not. I'm fairly certain he was.
He's putting in a complaint about you and wants you to back off.
- And what does the Ministry say? - Well, they're all twitchy, aren't they?
ATAT is one of the largest publicly traded companies in the UK.
Yes, and Connolly is targeting them.
He should be as concerned about that as we are.
- Why isn't he? - Excuse me.
Stonebridge and Scott need to speak to you urgently.
STONEBRIDGE: Colonel, Buckley's down. Scott's going to take his identity.
- Run that by me again. - Scott took a call on Buckley's phone.
The bloke heard the American accent, must have thought it was Buckley.
Yeah. 'Cause we all sound the same, right?
And you're seriously suggesting Scott goes in there as Buckley, unarmed?
That's right. The only thing is, he has 10 minutes to get there.
How do we know Connolly won't recognise Buckley?
He had half a torn playing card, in his pocket.
We just don't think he will.
There's also the fact that Buckley's an expert hacker.
What's she saying?
Well, I can brief him in Cyber Ops.
In 10 minutes? On the phone?
The alternative is, we surround the building,
bring his contact in for interrogation.
Yeah, but if we do that, Connolly's in the wind.
Put Scott on.
Scott.
Yeah?
I want you to listen to me very carefully.
Yeah, I'm listening.
Patch this through.
No. Colonel, I've got his file in my hand.
It's a green light, buddy.
CONNOLLY: And she's Irish, is she?
Kate Marshall.
Captain Kate Marshall. She's British Army intelligence.
(SIGHS)
Darling, you should be ashamed of yourself.
We have a contact at the Ministry of Defence in London.
She's assigned to some special tactical unit led by...
...Colonel Eleanor Grant.
Look, I'm telling you everything I know.
I'm co-operating with you completely.
I just want to know that my family are gonna be safe.
This will soon be over, Ken.
I have a good feeling about this.
It's all going to end perfectly.
- We're late. - Yeah, well...
If he doesn't show up, I'lljust have myself a drink.
If I hear gunfire, I'll come help.
Don't worry yourself, buddy, if you hear gunfire, I'll be dead.
Here, that's mine,
I got Buckley's.
Can I grab a Laphroaig on the rocks, please?
- BARTENDER: La-what? - Laphroaig, uh...
Just give him a scotch. Neat.
Thanks. What are you drinking?
- Same. - Can you make that two?
- Fuck me, it tastes... - Shite, yeah?
Everything here is.
Well, I don't know about that.
Quite a lovely Irish accent going on, huh?
Thank you.
You, uh, you meeting someone?
Yeah. You.
There's a room upstairs.
Want to see it?
Take your clothes off.
What's the matter?
I'm just wondering whether you're gonna fuck me or kill me.
Take them off and you'll find out.
- What about you? - Good things come to those who wait.
Is that a promise?
- Well? - Turn around.
Do I get the part?
You sure do.
(BANGING ON DOOR)
- Who's that? - A friend.
I love a threesome.
That's not the kind of threesome I was talking about.
What's wrong, not pretty enough for you?
Fuck!
(MOBILE PHONE RINGING)
Shit.
I'm looking for a friend of mine. Big guy. American.
Upstairs.
STONEBRIDGE: Scott's been taken, I'm in pursuit.
Charlie One, it's a grey panel van, heading north.
Checking co-ordinates.
Bringing you on to visual.
We've got you.
Sierra One, do you have eyes on the van?
Negative. I have no visual on Charlie One.
We'll try to track Scott via his cell phone.
That's not gonna work. Scott gave me his cell phone.
He took Buckley's with him!
There are two exits up ahead. Muizenberg or the Airport?
Julia do you hear me? Muizenberg or the airport?
Satellite locked on Charlie One, switching.
Two exits ahead, which one? Muizenberg or the airport? Talk to me.
We've got them, they're right there with you. Right there!
Shit!
STONEBRIDGE: Charlie One is in the wind. I repeat. Charlie One is in the wind.
Shit!
Satellite, uplink's been lost.
DARIN: The accepted wisdom is that whoever's in charge,
in Egypt, Libya, wherever, there's always opportunities.
My enemy's enemy is my friend.
Should be our company motto.
- Are you all right there, Ken? - Of course.
"My enemy's enemy is my friend."
If there was a problem, you'd tell me, right?
You'd be the first.
Mr. Buckley, I presume.
I liked her welcome much better.
- You were late. - I was followed.
- Oh, yeah? By who? - How the fuck should I know?
See, the thing is,
I have a unit of British Military Intelligence looking for me,
Section 20.
Good for you.
It's headed by a woman called Eleanor Grant.
Do you know her?
No, I don't know her.
You see, back in the day, she used to send pricks just like you
to kill me.
Do you want my fucking services or not?
Oh, yes, I do, very much.
But you're not Julian Buckley.
You're a fucking liar.
And fucking liars like you
all get the same treatment.
(BEEPING)
Fuck you!
Last coordinates were down in the valley.
Lourensford, it's farm country.
All right, it's open country, proceed with caution.
- Do you understand? - STONEBRIDGE: Roger that.
Shit!
- (BEEPING) - Fuck!
(GRUNTING) Fuck!
(YELLS)
Eyes on Charlie One.
Fuck me!
Stonebridge, report.
Fuck!
(GRUNTING)
Fuck!
(BEEPING)
Fuck you!
Fuck you...
(BEEPING CONTINUES)
Sergeant, report.
- Fuck you! - That was Scott.
I'm going in. (EXHALES SHARPLY)
Jesus! Fuck!