Go! Get in!
Apologies once more, but due to equipment failure,
this train will terminate at High Wycombe.
The bus replacement service will take you to Oxford Pathway,
where you can proceed to your journey.
Thank you.
Remaining passengers arriving from Marylebone,
the bus replacement service offers a pathway available from the car park.
It's just this way. The bus replacement service.
Run with your head down!
Hey, we're here.
Christ's sake.
Come on, mate. Wake up for God's sake!
Welcome to High Wycombe.
The train currently standing at platform two…
…Bicester Village, Oxford Parkway, and Oxford.
Yeah, mate, I'm not working that day.
They're expecting 100,000 people.
The toilets are gonna be like a barn.
Mate, there is no way I'm working that day.
Hang on.
- Can I help? - Yes.
I'm wondering if you could tell me where I might find the replacement buses.
We don't have any today. Everything's running.
So, listen, you tell Head Office, yeah…
I need the bus because…
Well, the other night my brother passed.
I don't know whether you heard.
Yeah…
Hey, mate, I'm gonna call you back, yeah?
Yes, I did. My condolences.
The buses are run by a separate company.
Well, perhaps you could give me the name of the company.
We use different ones. I'm not sure…
Please. I… I would very much like to see the place from where he left this earth.
All right…
Let me make a few phone calls, and I'll see if I can sort you out.
Okay.
Standish.
This isn't working.
Can you be more specific?
Seniority dictates I should have my own office.
I wouldn't take length of service in this shithole as a status symbol.
Prisoners have hierarchies.
Humans organize themselves according to power.
I'll be down shortly with today's work.
Hurry up. If you don't give me something to do, I'm gonna kill him.
Or at least maim him.
Morning.
Has anyone seen Lamb?
Ambulance driver said it was a heart attack.
Mercifully quick.
Here one moment, the next, with the angels.
Found him down there, second from the back.
And I thought he was sleeping.
Well, he was, wasn't he?
Was there anything out of the ordinary?
Apart from him.
Anything near him?
Something he might've left?
There was a hat. Seat next to him.
Oh, well, that could well have been his.
Could I take a look at it? Be lovely to have a keepsake.
Sure, it'd be in lost property.
I'll go by when I'm done here.
He looked quite calm-like. Your brother.
Well, that's how he would've wanted to go.
He liked buses.
It's not that I believe in a life-force, precisely.
But I'm not positive I don't believe in one.
If you take my meaning.
I'll… I'll give you a moment.
- Sorry to bother, but… - Oh, yes.
Will you be much longer?
I've…
I… I've said my… my final good-byes.
Only we've just had a call. Gonna need to use the bus.
Of course.
Fuck.
Has anyone seen River?
Yeah, I'm just really excited to take what I've learned in government intelligence
and apply it a bit more to more concentrated, commercial…
Taking what I've learned in government intelligence
and applying it to more commercial, targeted goals. It's something that I've…
They are ready for you now, Mr. Cartwright.
And actually, now, at a time of real geopolitical uncertainty,
private intelligence can fill the gaps left by the national agencies.
You know?
Absolutely.
And it… it feels to me, actually, that those are the really interesting,
and often unorthodox areas of fieldwork to which I'm probably best suited.
Now, on your CV,
it says that you're currently seconded to a unit near Aldersgate.
Yes, I am. Yes.
It's a bespoke unit.
Deals more in analog methods of intelligence gathering
that's actually given me a real grounding in more database…
Yeah, and… That's great. So you work at Slough House?
Yes.
I understand that it's not everyone's first choice of assignment, I do.
But actually, I've found it invaluable.
So you work with Jackson Lamb?
Yeah.
What's he like?
Where is everyone?
Oh, Min, please can you sit down?
Sorry, it's just that I'm trying to get my steps in.
I should never have given you that thing.
Well, Lamb's gonna kill us.
No, it's fine. He wasn't even in this morning.
Yeah. He's probably off wanking in a morgue somewhere.
Okay. What about this one?
300.
300?
Min, it's got a garden.
Okay, 310 then.
I mean it's… What, it's a "garden flat in Leytonstone."
It can't be that much.
- 520. - Oh, my god.
I mean, that's a lot.
- It's not. - He's here.
Here we go.
It's gonna be fun.
All right. Let's make this quick.
I'm seconding you.
Not for long, week or so.
So you'll be reporting to me.
On what sort of job?
Security.
For an off-the-books meeting.
Oh, okay. So that's why we're meeting here and not the Park.
Yeah. And because you're not allowed in the building.
Who's the meeting between?
Myself and Arkady Pashkin.
Representative of Ilya Nevsky.
The oligarch?
Nah, the kid's puppeteer.
Yeah, the oligarch.
But I thought we were supposed to stay away from him.
You're supposed to stay away from everyone, Min.
I meant "we" as in MI5. He's a dissident.
He opposes a regime in Moscow, and we're not supposed to take sides.
Well, Her Majesty's Government are prepared to be pragmatic in this matter.
Nevsky made his money in oil and gas. We're worried about energy security.
So, Nevsky's right-hand guy, Pashkin, Taverner's right-hand guy, moi,
are gonna sherpa a little meeting between the two of them.
Any face-to-face meetings are to be held at a pre-agreed secure location
which I need you to assess, sweep,
take out the bins. Usual routine.
Well, who made the approach?
Pashkin. Via an intermediary. Freelancer named Krimov.
And does Krimov check out?
I did the background. It's all in here.
So, the meeting's this Saturday in the Glasshouse.
Same day as the Anti-Capitalist March.
Is that a problem? Are you thinking of making a placard and going along?
No, no. Just getting up to speed.
Good. Well, I hope it's not too tall an order.
But if you think you're too rusty
or you're happy with the stale scraps Lamb throws you, just say the word…
and piss off back to Slough House.
- Should we take the job? - I think we just did.
Well, yeah, I know. But Lamb's gonna cough up a bollock when he finds out.
- Well, we don't really have a choice. - Well, we do. We can just not do it.
Thing is, you're scared of Lamb.
I'm not scared of Lamb.
I mean, yeah, I am scared of Lamb. Yeah.
You're looking at it. I did what you asked without being asked.
Be great if you could do that without making me want to hit you.
- Just don't say anything. - Yes, okay.
- What am I looking at? - Soho street cam footage.
This is Soho?
But where's all the prostitutes and the junkies?
- Soho's changed. - Shut up, Mike.
Marcus.
Yeah, it'll take me six months to get your name right,
and if I've done my job, you'll be long gone by then.
It looks like he's heading for Marylebone. Can you pick him up there?
Where's he gone? We lost him.
We just need to switch to another camera.
- Cause of death? - What's going on?
Ex-service agent found dead on a bus in Oxford Parkway.
Just got the coroner's report.
Guy!
Heart failure.
That's bollocks.
Well, he was in his 60s, smoked, drank. Was probably on the cards.
But I do all that and look at me. I'm in my prime.
Why would someone wanna kill this guy?
Maybe he went for a job interview without telling his boss.
That's grounds for murder.
Are you sure it's murder?
He left a note on his phone that tells me it was.
And you gonna tell us what it says?
Yeah, well, I would if I thought you could offer up any insights.
Here's an angle by the ticket barriers.
Dickie goes through the barrier without buying a ticket.
- So it's not a planned journey. - Yeah, rewind.
- Dickie? - His real name was Richard Bough.
He was an occasional in Berlin. Kicked out just before the wall came down.
He's following someone.
I wanna see them getting on the buses at High Wycombe station.
Well, hang on. That… That bus is closer, but he walks over to that one.
I think he's following the man in the hat.
Well, this hat was found near where Dickie snuffed it in the luggage rack.
Ladies and gentlemen, the death bus is now pulling into Oxford Parkway station.
Well, there's no one in a hat.
That's because the hat was left on the fucking bus, you pillock.
I'm holding it.
Just show me the footage from both platforms.
It's the bald man.
Which bald man?
Center of screen, on the northbound platform.
He's got his back to the camera. He doesn't want to be seen.
Where did your bald man go?
Must've got on the train.
No, he's still on the platform. Fast-forward to the next train, Roddy.
Right. I want footage from inside that Oxford Parkway train,
so we can see where baldy gets off, okay?
I wanna know who this fucker is and where he fucking went.
Footage from inside the trains is stored on hard drives
that are physically swapped out once a week and are taken to a data center.
I just fell asleep with my eyes open.
Where they're copied and wiped, then put back on the trains.
It's legwork.
You need a donkey for that, and I'm a thoroughbred.
You, Ho, are a massive horse's cock.
But you're right. I need a donkey to fetch those hard drives.
Harper.
You see that?
- See what? - No.
Harper just shared a little look with his girlfriend.
I wonder what that means.
We've been seconded.
Who by? Twats "R" Us?
- Webb. - What… Webb?
You're gonna work for that dick after he fucked me over?
I don't know. I think it shows excellent taste.
What's the assignment, and please tell me you can't give me any details?
Security on a Russian back channel meet.
Jesus Christ, Min.
You were what, 549th on the list?
You know, if it was anyone else I'd go nuclear bananas, but I hate Webb,
and you will doubtless fuck it up, so I consider that a result.
I'll get the hard drives then. They're too busy working for the enemy.
Fuck off. You're planning to jump ship for Elessar.
Don't grandstand when you're chasing the private pound.
Where the fuck are you going?
I turned them down. I didn't want to do it.
Well, we just sorted out your farewell present.
Here.
What am I supposed to do with this now?
I'm not giving you any juicy action.
I'm still laboring under the illusion that Shelby…
Shirley.
…is only half shit and not full shit like everyone else.
So she's going.
But why risk her when you know I could do the job?
Sorry, it's just this is in my wheelhouse. I don't know what we're…
- You have a wheelhouse? - Yes, I do have a wheelhouse.
Do you know why she's at Slough House?
No.
Well, consider yourself lucky you stopped when you did.
Wait, so what do I do then?
Fuck off to the job center for all I care.
You can think about getting a gardener.
Too much for you?
No, I'm just saying, you know.
Maybe someone to do stuff around the house too.
If this is leading towards,
"You'd be better off in a home,"
I think I should warn you I once killed a man with a pair of shears.
Wait, really?
No, but it's never too late.
How did the interview go?
Jesus Christ.
God, spooks never do retire, do they? How did you know that?
The director got in touch with me.
I said you'd prefer to be judged on your own merits.
Well, I was and I didn't get it. So that's nice to know.
I think they just got me in to hear stories about Lamb anyway.
I can't see you in private intelligence.
Well, luckily neither can the people in private intelligence
because to them I'm still the dickhead
who crashed Stansted on a training exercise.
I thought saving Hassan would wipe the slate clean,
but I'm still sat around like a spare part.
Well, something will turn up.
Already has, but Lamb's shut me out of that one too.
Tracking an FSB wet squad.
Who is the hit?
Richard Bough.
Christ.
What?
Oh, nothing. I'm just…
I'm amazed he was still alive, is all.
How did he die?
Heart attack. On paper.
Well, maybe it was just a heart attack.
I mean, I don't see anyone wanting to have Dickie Bough killed.
Wait, so you knew him?
Yeah, of him. Yeah.
God.
Come on. I need a drink for all this.
Shit. Sorry.
No worries.
- Someone dropped this. - Thank you.
Yeah?
I need you to cut the power to the Datalok building at nine o'clock.
- I've got a date in 30 minutes. - No, you haven't.
I just lifted a security guy's card, and I need to get in there before he notices.
Why do you need me to cut the power if you've already got his card?
It only gets me through the outer gate.
It's facial recognition on the door to the building.
What's in it for me?
A quick death.
Cicadas.
Sleeper agents embedded in British society.
So named because cicadas spend years underground before hatching.
And do you remember how we concluded they were a hoax?
Yes. Because the spy master controlling them
turned out to be a bogeyman, yeah.
Alexander Popov. My fearsome opposite number.
Invented by the Russians to keep us chasing our tails.
Yeah, well.
Dickie's big moment came when he went AWOL before the wall came down.
We thought he'd defected, and,
to be frank, the Germans were welcome to him.
And then he came staggering back, blind drunk,
claiming that Popov and a thug had abducted him
and interrogated him and poured brandy down his throat.
I mean, obviously he'd been on an enormous bender.
And he came up with the worst possible excuse imaginable.
So we threw him out.
Right, so there's no chance that Dickie was actually telling the truth then?
None. I mean, Popov was a ghost.
We never found a single cicada.
Well, it's definitely getting Lamb worked up.
Well, he's probably doing due diligence on an old joe, but…
you know, Dickie's death was nothing out of the ordinary.
He was following someone when he died.
Maybe he saw someone that he shouldn't have.
No, in Berlin.
And then now again in London.
Look, I know you had a knock-back today
and you're desperate for something to happen.
But believe me, this doesn't sound like anything.
Why not?
Well, heart failure isn't the FSB's style, is it?
I mean, all their recent hits have left a clear signature.
Usually radioactive.
No, they want us to see what they've done
and dare us to come up with a response that will never happen.
- But what if this isn't the FSB? - What?
- What if it's KGB? - Oh. No, no.
Now you're chasing after your own tail.
Yeah, I mean, those guys, they left no trace.
You wouldn't see them coming. Brush past, a tap from an umbrella…
No, no, no. Dickie wasn't bothering anyone.
Yeah. Maybe not.
Right, I better go.
Can I not offer you dinner?
No. It's fine. I had something before.
I'll clean all that up.
No. Leave it. I'll do it later. I enjoy the night air.
Be careful, River.
What made you say that?
There's a streetlight out at the end of the lane.
There's a dark stretch between there and the high street.
Right. Don't drink too much.
Right. This is the Glasshouse where Webb has agreed to meet Pashkin.
The entrance to the underground car park is on the street behind.
And then, for the meeting, we take a lift
up to the boardroom and disable the cameras.
So we need to do a bug sweep the night before.
We could check it out now. I bet the view's amazing.
No. We can't get access until Webb gives us passes.
Or we just use the building opposite.
Have a roofnic. Scope it out from there.
- Roofnic? - Yeah.
How come Lamb knew about River's interview?
Catherine said that they called in for a reference.
Fuck. Brutal.
So what, did he just fart down the phone?
No. Apparently, it was actually pretty good.
- Really? - Yeah.
Pashkin is gonna meet Webb in the boardroom
above Nevsky's office which is on the 42nd floor.
Does that say… Almaz Trust?
Nevsky's company.
It's Russian for diamonds. Made his first million as a gem trader.
So, 42nd floor would be one, two, three,
four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, 11, 12…
Min, just count down from the top.
It's 50 floors, boardroom's 47th floor, Nevsky's five down from that…
All right. Okay. Yeah. I can do the maths, yeah.
That's why he wants to have the meeting in this building then?
Yeah. Once we establish the boardroom's secure,
you can just sneak upstairs and no one will ever know.
Yeah. And it's not like anyone's going to be looking through the windows, is it?
What's above and below?
Nothing above.
Below, apart from Nevsky's, there are private banks,
investment companies, and then 20 floors of luxury hotel.
Well, maybe we should insist on staying in the hotel as part of the op.
Should we make that a deal breaker?
- Shall we? - Yeah.
You are a fucking dead man, Ho.
I said nine o'clock!
Fuck.
I only realized when I got home. She lifted my wallet and handed it in.
The card was gone. Fucking crazy.
You go that way.
- So did you get it? - Yep.
Good job.
Guess I'm not full shit then?
Oh, no. Definitely not full shit.
Yeah. Full shit be crashing Stansted.
Well, actually that was a setup, so it… Forget it.
So you're here for… Is it punching your case officer?
Technically, no.
I mean, I did punch him after he made a pass at me,
but I could've escaped that with a reprimand and a note in my file.
It was the second punch that did it, after he said I hit like a girl.
Didn't get up after that.
Fair enough.
He took a train from Oxford Parkway to Stroud, Cotswolds.
I checked the station CCTV.
Our guy walks off camera towards the taxi booth.
Right. So we don't know where he went after that?
It's gonna sound strange, but did anyone come near Dickie with an umbrella?
Yeah. Loads of people.
- It was raining earlier. - Yeah, no. I meant…
You meant like in the Markov assassination.
Yeah.
Got a big wide-on for old-school hits, but no one jabbed him with an umbrella.
What about the bald man?
Told you, we lose him at the taxi booths.
Yeah, but how close did he get to Dickie?
That seat's taken.
Oh, yeah? By who?
Gillian Anderson's in the lav.
Well, I imagine she'll be a while throwing up after watching you eat.
Do you know how much it hurt me to write you an even half-decent reference?
And all for nothing. I mean, you're still here.
What you do, take a shit in the wastepaper bin halfway through the interview?
Actually, what went wrong was not having anything interesting to say about you.
Should've just told them that you eat like a dying horse.
It's my fault no one wants to hire you?
Dickie was murdered.
I know that, you twat.
Yes, but you don't know how.
If you…
Can I sit there or I'm gonna…
I can't.
Shirley got that footage that you asked for from inside the train.
So, look.
Dickie's nearest the door, right?
Meaning that he has to get off first if he doesn't want to draw attention to himself.
But what that means is that it puts the man that he's following behind him
when they get off at High Wycombe.
But look. He's touching Dickie on the arm.
And then, if you go to the footage from inside the station…
Dickie's rubbing his arm.
Our man must have dosed him with something untraceable
that shows up as a heart attack.
Unless you want to run a bunch of
complicated and obscure tests, which I imagine the Park
wouldn't want to bother with even if they thought it necessary.
Now…
I bet you 50 quid that I know the message on Dickie's phone.
Just one word.
Cicada.
Not bad.
What, my pitch or your noodles?
Yeah. Keep the change.
Thank you, Mr. Lamb.
You know, the fact that I'm right means you give me 50 quid.
I mean, that's how bets work, generally.
Well, I'll take it as a fee for writing your reference.
Okay, clever bollocks, what's it all mean?
What it means is that Dickie wasn't lying all those years ago.
It means he was grabbed, force-fed a ton of booze
and then questioned by someone wanting to spread the myth of Popov.
It's still a myth.
Yes, Popov didn't exist, but maybe the cicadas did.
Do. Maybe they hid the truth in a lie.
And Dickie has seen someone, he's tailed them,
they've not liked it so they've killed him.
Because maybe they've been reactivated and maybe more people are gonna die.
Where are you off to?
Cotswolds.
Good.
Find out what the bald man did there,
who he spoke to, and if he's still there.
Yeah.
Cheers, Mr. Lao.
Can I get a couple of those prawn buns to go?