Calm down! Fingers!
Everybody clear.
Time of death, 08:49.
We've all lost a terrific soldier and a friend.
Everything's gonna be OK.
Cheese, this is Two Section.
All right, Mimi.
What would people make of this new you, back home?
I'm going to knock that geezer into next week!
Fingers was nothing to them, man.
You weren't his mate or mine!
- You're looking at me like I'm mad. - You are... mad.
He has known links with ISIS.
Is it true?
You're thinking about doing a deal with Omar and letting him off?
You will be confined to barracks
and placed on restricted duties until it can be determined
whether you are fit enough to continue in the army.
What are you doing up, Georgie?
- You should be in bed. - Hm. I could say the same for you.
- I couldn't sleep. - You all right?
Just got a lot going round in my head, you know?
Yeah, I know the feeling.
I still don't understand why you've been confined to the barracks.
Because no-one's going to give someone a weapon with PTSD, are they?
Is that what you've got?
No, I haven't got that. But they don't know that, do they?
- You know what we need? - What?
A large coffee, because something tells me
we're not gonna get any shut eye tonight.
Medic!
You're needed in resus.
Six US soldiers have been injured in a road side attack.
- Colour. - Lane. Lane.
- The order's for Private Saunders. - What?
No. It's fine. You've got this. Go on. You've got this.
Go, go, go, go, go, go. Kingy.
- This is crazy. I've come here to do a job. - Look, it's not my call.
- I'm sorry. - So are they actually thinking about sending me home?
Just rest up.
- We'll talk about it in the morning. - No, no, no! What do you expect me to do?
- Count bandages? - Sorry.
- Kingy? - Come on. Quick as you can, please.
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -
Do you know what I don't understand?
Quantum physics. The laws of gravity?
Who decided that breakfast had to be beans,
- scrambled egg and sausages? - And they say philosophy's a dying art.
Why not lamb bhuna or sweet- and-sour chicken, Hong Kong style?
You ever thought about running in the elections, Throbber?
You'd get my vote.
Did you notice Fingers never liked his food touching?
And he'd make like this little corridor
using his beans and scrambled egg.
Don't forget the face he'd make with his ketchup.
Reckon he used to start the day with a smile.
Cheesy bastard.
Take that sausage.
I bet it's never even been near a pig.
That's because it's a turkey sausage, Throbber.
It's just crushed up eyeballs, bones and brains.
Thanks.
No worries.
- I'm doing her a favour. - How exactly?
She's not gonna be able to eat when she's in a straitjacket, is she?
Wow!
Why're they wasting their time sending me to a psych
when Throbber could do the job for them?
- Saunders. Over here. - Let Mimi sit down, mate!
So what's the skinny with you and Cheese,
because I'm definitely sensing some sexual tension here?
Yeah, shut up, Monk.
We just come from the same town. Everyone knows each other.
I bet you never even got past her old man.
- How do you mean? - What?
Some teacher let you crack on with his daughter, did he?
Oh, yeah, yeah. No. That's right.
Her dad...
... the teacher.
I heard you had a rough night.
Yeah, er... two... two fatalities.
I still don't get why they've stuck you on the subs bench.
Because I lost my cool, Monk.
How come?
Omar's trying to cut some deal with the Americans.
I'm guessing he's hoping to start a new life in another country
or at least not spend the rest of his days in prison.
Wait? Hang on. Are you telling me that prick's going to get off?
- We don't know that. - He's a warlord, Prof.
They should be stringing him up at the gate,
not getting into bed with him!
Boss is waiting to brief us so I need you guys finishing up here.
Sergeant Lane.
What's the matter, Kingy?
I can't attend a briefing now?
Your psych assessment has been arranged for this morning.
Promise me you'll go in there with an open mind.
Hey! You never know.
Talking to someone might actually help.
Colour.
You want to be careful.
Your government paid for those.
What is it with doctors and cigarettes?
It's something I always do when I lose one of my men.
Yeah, Mimi said it was a tough night.
One guy was so badly burnt I couldn't even identify him
- without his dental records. - Shit!
A psych assessment?
Someone really is on the naughty step.
I should learn to keep my mouth shut.
Just when I was starting to get used to that weird accent of yours.
Listen, I'm guessing whatever this deal is they're making with Omar...
... it wasn't a decision they took lightly.
Don't they even care about how many innocent lives he's taken?
I suspect it's a little more complicated than that.
I don't like it any more than you do
but sometimes you have to look at the bigger picture.
Which is what exactly?
- Men like Omar... - Yeah.
... they have knowledge that's invaluable
in the fight against the Taliban.
And that's more important than getting justice, is it?
You know what? Yeah.
I'm getting a little bit sick of smoking these.
I'm sorry. I know...
I know it's not your fault.
- See you later. - See you.
Special Forces should've put
a bullet in his head when they had the chance.
And that would have evened things up, would it?
Well, he can't cut a deal if he's dead, can he?
I reckon they'll give him a new identity.
Line him up with some cushty job at Argos.
We could always slip the guard a bung.
Wipe that smug grin off his face.
Don't tempt me.
- I'll catch you up, yeah? - Why? Where're you going?
See a man about a dog.
Seems like everyone's got a secret. Isn't that right, Saunders?
Watch where you're going, you prick.
Eh! No harm done.
You need to learn a little bit of respect, son.
Look, just leave it. I don't want any more beef.
Prof, on me.
Listen, listen.
You're not going to say anything, are you?
'Course not.
We're mates, aren't we?
And besides... I don't want your dad giving me detention, do I?
Last night's roadside attack was yet another attempt by militants
to undermine confidence in the upcoming elections.
Increased security measures are now in place
- at checkpoints across Kabul. - Sit up.
Sit them at ease, Colour Sergeant.
At ease.
- Please continue, Mr Hurst. - Sir.
Today. Throbber, Cheese. You two are on Guardian Angel duty.
We have two US officials arriving from Washington.
- Sir. - All right. Are there any questions?
- Is this to do with Omar, sir? - I'm sorry?
We've just heard he's cutting some deal with the Americans.
That is not your concern.
But he will still pay for what he did, won't he?
I think we've heard enough from you, Private.
Perhaps your efforts would be better spent
cleaning your bunk and kit ahead of inspection.
Colour.
Right, everyone! Dismissed.
It would appear insubordination is now rife among your platoon.
Tensions are running high, yes, sir.
We've just lost one of our men,
to an insurgent who,
- by all accounts, might well evade justice. - His interrogation
is at a critical stage, Mr Hurst.
I won't see their hard work undermined by idle chatter.
- Is that understood? - Sir.
I would suggest your efforts are better spent
concentrating on the task at hand.
I take it the Afghan recruits will be ready for passing out next week?
The men are in fine shape, sir.
Then I look forward to seeing them in action.
You have 30 minutes until I arrive for inspection.
Someone looks deep in thought.
Sorry, I was miles away.
I wasn't expecting to see you here.
I've just been officially discharged.
- What did they say? - I'm showroom new...
... apart from three cracked ribs.
It's the bruises you can't see...
They're the ones that take longer to heal.
I take it you've heard about Omar?
What about him?
I'm sorry. I assumed you knew.
There's some talk of him doing a deal with the Americans.
Of course there is.
You don't sound surprised?
Nothing about this country surprises me any more.
You know Taliban warlords have been elected as governors
with the assistance of Allied military?
Which is why you need to win these elections.
I sometimes wonder if the fight's already lost.
Moving on from what we've covered outside, in open order,
right, dress.
Eyes front.
Centre and rear ranks, stand at ease.
Afghan Platoon, in open order, awaiting your inspection, sir.
Thank you, Mr Hurst. This whole line needs to be more evenly spaced.
- Late night was it, Cadet? - Sir?
My aged mother makes quicker turns.
Run out of boot polish, did you?
- No, sir. - Scuffed and unpolished,
rather like your performance here today.
I'll see you in your office in five minutes.
They're a mess.
They're nowhere near ready for passing out.
This is Sandhurst in the Sand for Christ's sake.
If we can't turn those men into soldiers,
we might as well pull down the shutters and go home.
You need to come down harder on them, Mr Hurst.
It takes a firm hand
- to keep a troop in line. - Sir.
I want them ready for action.
Enough time has passed for me to start seeing results.
They're not in bad shape.
The Brig's just feeling the strain, that's all.
Yeah, that's easy for you to say! It's not your balls in the vice.
Sergeant Lane.
Captain Emma Preston.
I'm a clinical psychologist.
I wasn't expecting you to be in uniform.
I'm also a serving officer.
Come in.
- Would you like a glass of water? - No. I'm fine, thank you, Ma'am.
I think we can dispense with the formalities, don't you?
Take a seat.
I take it you've been fully briefed as to why we're here today?
I'd just got back from a funeral, and I, er...
... I said things in the heat of the moment.
I shouldn't have let my emotions get the better of me.
You recently lost a member of your platoon, I believe?
Fingers. Sorry, Private Stille.
He was married to my sister.
That must have been difficult.
Yeah. It was.
He was like a brother to me. I served six tours with him.
That's a lot to process for anyone.
You just throw yourself back in your work, you know.
Carry on the best you can.
Would you say you're good at compartmentalising your feelings?
What does that mean?
It's a way of coping.
You put things to the back of your mind
until you're ready to deal with them.
Yeah, I suppose so. Yeah.
The problem is
there's only so long you can keep those feelings locked away.
It's a bit like trying to close a door in a storm.
Well,
I'm from Manchester so I'm used to the bad weather.
I've been asked to examine Aatan Omar.
I'm Dr Antonio from the US Army.
I'm here to give you a physical examination
to see if you're fit to continue to be questioned.
I'm going to start with a simple eye test.
Just keep looking straight in front of you.
Lie down for me.
Tell me if you feel any discomfort.
Have you experienced any nausea or vomiting?
We're going to have to bring you in and get that looked at.
Tell me about Captain Elvis Harte.
He was your fiancé I believe?
Briefly. Yeah.
He was killed in operations here in Kabul.
You must have been devastated?
Yeah. I was at the time.
But, you know, you carry on the best you can.
You try and move on.
And it's not like there's not been anyone else. There was...
There was one.
Captain James.
He was a good friend of mine and he was more of a comfort,
rebound situation...
... but at least I was moving on.
It's not always that easy though, is it?
It's how I was brought up.
You dust yourself off, you carry on.
I got that from me nan.
Is that why you chose not to take leave?
I didn't think I needed to.
But even so... Coming back to Afghanistan must have
- stirred up a lot of memories for you. - I'm here to do a job.
I don't allow time for distractions.
Right.
I think we've probably got as far as we're going to get today.
- They think I've got PTSD, don't they? - Not necessarily.
But let's not rule anything out at this stage.
What do you think?
I think we should continue our assessment tomorrow.
OK.
It's funny.
I've been a serving officer for nearly 12 years now.
And I still can't stand the sight of blood.
Well, thank God you're not a medic.
Just out of interest.
If you were tending to a deep cut...
... how would you go about treating it?
First of all, I'd make sure the wound is cleaned.
Then I'd make the decision whether to stitch it up
or to put a gauze on there.
Why not just leave it to the elements?
Because it would get infected.
And the wound would fester?
Then it's rather like grief.
Treat it and you can begin to heal.
But leave it untouched
and it can start to do some real damage.
Ma'am.
The Brigadier thinks the Afghan army is a fucking shambles,
so it's down to us to roll up our sleeves
and turn these grunts into soldiers. Understood?
Colour.
It won't be long before they're operating without us,
so I don't want any more soft soaping.
It's time to grab them by the balls
and start knocking them into shape.
You can count on us, Colour.
Thank you, Throbber.
I'll sleep soundly in my bunk knowing they've got you as their mentor.
Talk about the blind leading the blind.
Right, have some scoff and a good night's sleep.
I want you in full kit on the training field at 0600 hours.
How come it's down to us to sort out the Afghans?
- It's not our fault they're all shit. - Come on.
We all know the life expectancy of an Afghan soldier.
The least we can do is make sure
- they're at the top of their game, yeah? - Waste of time.
You coming for some scoff?
Actually, I might, er...
stay and read for a bit.
Oh! Virginia Woolf?
Didn't have you down as a fan of feminist literature, lad.
I bet Mrs Dalloway's a right dirty mare!
And he's back in the room.
Hello, boy.
I told you I'd come back, didn't I?
Hey. Guess what?
I've got you something to make your poorly leg better.
Dinner is served.
Courtesy of Two Section.
Hey, it's fish fingers tomorrow.
I know you're missing your mates but at least you got Throbber, eh?
I'll see you soon, yeah.
You've been sneaking off to feed some dog?
He's injured, in't he?
- And he's out here on his own. - What's got in to you, Throbber?
Willy Wonka, one minute, Doctor Dolittle, the next.
You've got more important things to be worrying about
than some fucking mutt.
He can understand you, you know.
He's got feelings, just like we have.
- If that was my Mitzy, I swear to God... - Hang on.
I thought Mitzy was some girl you were knocking off,
- back in Wolverhampton? - She's a pit bull cross.
There was me thinking
you were the Black Country's answer to Zayn Malik.
Turns out you get a stalk-on watching Lassie.
Fuck off, Monk.
His paw's bust and no-one here gives a shit!
Listen. I've got a mate in the dog handling division.
Why don't I ask him if he knows something?
Nice one, Cheese.
It's good to know someone's got my back.
Right. Let's get out of here,
or your mate won't be the only one missing his balls.
Lane.
I thought you'd be locked up by now.
No. No such luck, Throbber.
You sure you're allowed to talk to us?
The Americans could be watching, you know!
- See you, nutter. - See you.
- So how's your day been? - Awful.
It's shit out there without you.
You might have to get used to it.
Why? What're you saying?
This is just temporary, isn't it?
It's not my decision.
Look, maybe it'll do you some good to talk to someone.
What do you mean?
Well, no-one's invincible, Georgie,
and there's no shame in admitting you need help.
Not you and all.
I'm just saying that you've been through a lot,
- haven't you so... - So you think I'm crazy as well, yeah?
- No. Of course I don't! - All right.
Thanks for your support, Prof.
Georgie...
You recently lost a member of your platoon.
Thank you, thank you, Georgie Lane.
Maybe it'll do you some good to talk to someone.
Fit and ready for anything the army's going to throw at me.
There is a cause for concern.
Would you say you're good at compartmentalising your feelings?
- You're looking at me like I'm mad. - You are mad.
Do you think I'm crazy and all?
- I thought you'd be locked up by now? - It's a way of coping.
You put things to the back of your mind
until you're ready to deal with them.
Fucking hollow pain that never goes away.
There's only so long you can keep those feelings locked away.
Sometimes, I can feel my knees buckling.
Did you ask your mate about the dog?
Reckons he was shot by the Taliban whilst out on patrol.
- Mate says he's pork pied. - What does that mean?
I don't know. Mincemeat, I suppose.
Off to doggy heaven, bless him.
- You mean they're going to put him down? - Mm-hm.
- But he was injured in the line of duty... - Enough about this dog. Let's focus.
Right. Two Section, gather round.
For this training exercise, intelligence suggests
that an insurgent is currently lying low in this disused building.
Your job is to systematically search each room, shouting 'clear'
if the room is empty of target.
If you find an assailant, cuff them and bring them out.
Always remember, you're working for the soldier next to you
and not for yourselves.
Rabee, on me, clearing the left room. Cheese, Poya, take the right.
All right. Prepare to move. Move!
All right, Rabee, I need you to listen to everything I'm about to tell you.
- Oi, silly bollocks. Are you with us? - Sir.
- Focus... Everything. - Yes, sir. Yes, sir.
For fuck's sake, get a grip!
- Eyes on me. - OK.
As soon as this door opens, you cover the room to the left.
- Do you understand? - Yes, sir.
Cover him.
CS gas has been deployed.
- Cover me while I put my mask on. - Covering.
Now put your mask on.
Shit!
Fucking idiot.
Wake up, silly bollocks,
- and get your mask on! - I can't see anything.
Do you not fucking understand English?
- Get your mask on! - Hands up!
Hands up! Stand up! Stand up!
Nice one, Rabee.
- Suspect located. - Copy that!
Right! Anyone got any further questions before we move on?
No, Colour.
Right. Speak to your mentors.
Right. Listen, pull this in to your arm. Nice and solid.
Oh, can't you breathe, Poya?
Well, you should have listened, shouldn't you?
I told you to put your mask on.
- Where the hell is Cheese? - My eyes. My eyes.
Help me.
We need a medic! Rabee, cover me!
- Covering. - For fuck's sake.
- He dropped his mask, mate. I can't find it anywhere. - I've got you.
- I fucking told him.
Find your mask, Poya. Come on, mate.
Cheese, do something useful. Take my fucking gun.
Stay calm, Poya. I've got you.
Medic, over here.
- I'm on my way! - Sit there. Sit there.
Deep breaths, yeah.
What the fuck was he doing without his mask on?
Told you. He dropped it.
Look. Let's just bag and tag the suspect
and get the hell out of here.
Don't worry. The first sting's always the worst. OK?
Don't worry, mate. It happens to the best of us.
Head back. There we are.
Guys!
Guys, we've got a problem...
- Cheese, on me. - It's all right.
You'll start to feel better in a minute, Poya.
He's gone.
Oh, dear, oh, dear, oh, dear!
What the hell happened?
He must've panicked, Colour.
Got disorientated while putting on his mask.
I didn't panic.
When you're given an instruction, Cadet...
Cadet!
You follow. Understood?
Colour.
Saunders. Take Poya to the medical facility for a check up.
You can thank me later.
Right I think it's fair to say that that was complete
and utter fucking bullshit.
So, I want you all in positions ready to go again.
- Let's move. - Colour.
Maybe the Brig had a point.
Is that your partner?
Sally.
My mum and dad met when they were 14.
My dad was on the way home from a boxing club
and Mum came round the corner on a chopper.
And Mum being my mum, kerbed it,
went flying. Middle of the road.
Been together ever since.
Tell me about Elvis, Georgie.
What do you want to know?
What's one residing memory you have of him?
You don't like talking about him, do you?
Not particularly. No.
And why is that?
Because no good ever comes from dragging up the past.
Tell me about the day he died.
It was a radio-controlled IED.
I tried to administer first aid
but it was too late. Elvis was dead.
It must make you angry?
All those plans you had together, gone,
in the blink of an eye.
Elvis knew the risks.
But what about you?
No good can come from being angry.
And...
... you don't think you would have benefited
from a leave of absence?
Me being at home, feeling sorry for myself,
wouldn't have helped anybody.
It would have given you a chance to grieve, Georgie.
And believe it or not, it doesn't fit into some convenient schedule.
It seems to me you're a rock
for your colleagues and your family. But who's there to hold you up?
You can't be everything to everybody.
Can we leave that there for today?
I've got a splitting headache.
Of course.
He used to sleep with his arm under my pillow.
Said he'd always be there if I fall.
But he's not, is he?
It must make you angry.
All those plans you had together, gone.
I want to make sure you're ready to dive straight back in.
No good ever comes from dragging up the past.
Just make everything OK.
At some point, something's got to give.
You dust yourself off and carry on.
- Medic! - Sergeant Lane!
Georgie!
Georgie. Wait up...
How did you get on?
They haven't discharged me yet.
We could have done with you on the training exercise today.
Yeah, well, you should've fought harder for me then.
That's a bit below the belt.
Did you fight my corner with the Brig or not?
Look, you're in my chain of command.
You know we can't discuss this with you.
Yeah, and you're also my friend, Kingy.
- At least I thought you were. - Georgie...
Listen. Listen.
If I get sent home...
... we're done.
Flash...
I heard you took the Taliban on single-handed.
You're a boss little soldier, ain't you?
You've got to promise me you're going to be a big brave boy, all right?
You're a hero, Flash.
And I would have taken that bullet for you.
There you go.
And when you're in doggy heaven
you can have all the sausage you can eat.
And there'll be rabbits too.
And no-one will bollock you if you chase them.
You've done your country proud.
You look after yourself, yeah?
So long, Flash.
Ah, please.
Please, give me something to do.
I'll even clean out your supply cupboards if you want me to.
- Is it really that bad? - Seriously,
I had to stop myself putting my pills in colour order.
You may be in luck.
This one got into an altercation with some barbed wire.
He'll need cleaning and suturing.
Thank you!
Who needs flowers when a deep laceration does the job?
Thanks. I really appreciate it.
Stick around. There's plenty more where he came from.
No. I don't mean him.
You've been a really good mate.
So am I ever going to get a tour of Manchester?
Assuming my liver can handle it?
No, you couldn't hack it.
Why? You worried your mother wouldn't approve?
My mum? Are you joking?
Bringing home a surgeon for tea.
She'd be straight on the phone to the church, booking it.
Dr Antonio. Your patient's here for his Cat scan.
Some warning might've been nice.
- What have we got? - I think it's best you leave.
- What's he doing here? - A suspected internal rupture.
Georgie, please. Don't get involved.
Come on. Why's there no Wi-Fi?
What's going on?
Oh, my days. Who's hogging all the Wi-Fi?
- Throbber! - Huh?
If this is you watching porn again...
What the fuck is that?
I don't see nothing.
What the hell have you done, Throbber?
I wasn't going to leave him there to die, was I?
So what were you planning to do?
I ain't thought that far ahead.
That's you all over that is.
Don't be tight, Monk.
His heart was in the right place.
Last time you screwed up, we were all up to our necks in shit.
You could get kicked out for this. You know that, don't you?
That's something I'll have to live with.
You'd do that for a dog?
I'd do that for any of my mates.
Right, that's it. I'm taking him back to the kennels.
- You can't! - Throbber...
Don't you think we've seen enough death on this tour?
Monk. Please.
I'm begging you.
You heard Cheese. He's going to be pork pied.
I need my bloody head testing.
You serious?
It's either that or we see him get kicked out.
You hear that, boy? You're part of Two Section now.
This is just temporary. You know that, don't you?
- So where do we take him after this? - We?
- I've done my bit. - Come on, hurry up.
OK, Flash. I need you to stay here until I come back for you,
all right? Yeah? Remember, Flash, remember,
eyes 360 throughout.
- Leave off. Like he understands you, you muppet. - Shut up.
- He's cleverer than he looks. - He's smarter than you, that's for sure.
- You want some water? - Throbber!
- How about you hurry up? - OK. Drink. Stay. Stay. Stay.
- I love you. I love you. - Love you?
Shhh!
So, Throbber, what's your next bright idea for this dog?
This morning at 0600 hours,
we will be launching Operation Strike Cobra.
Full kit. 20 minutes.
Intelligence suggests two suspects are responsible for cultivating bombs
in the back room of a laundry
in the Ka Faroshi district of Kabul.
It's a Taliban stronghold.
The whole area is potentially volatile.
There's every likelihood that these insurgents
intend to strike at next week's election.
Stabilisers are well and truly off today, Saunders.
You better not mess this up.
Our job is to locate and extract the suspects in question.
You've got this, Mimi.
The safety of passers by is paramount.
We need to be vigilant at all times.
Here, Throbber. You heard the latest?
Apparently, the Americans are thinking
about sending Omar to Wolverhampton.
He wouldn't be the first.
We got an Afghan warlord in our local chippy.
Mental Malek, they call him.
He once put a kid's hand in the deep fat fryer.
I'm sorry about him.
He seems to have missed the cultural sensitivity class.
Malek?
- You know him? - He's my cousin.
Here, have a pipe at the mood hoover, over there.
Crack us a smile, son.
Ignore him.
That's easy for you to say.
I'm so sick and tired of you British people.
Poya! Don't have a pop at me.
- It's not my fault, is it? - You lot are all the same.
- You don't care what devastation you bring. - Poya.
- That's not fair. We're out here trying to help you. - Help!
Who do you think killed more civilians last year? Hmm?
- Because it wasn't the Taliban. - All right, guys.
The objective of today's operation is to move quickly
and to get out of there as fast as possible.
Sir.
This is a thriving market.
If the enemy has eyes on,
we need to make sure we're not static
and can react to any changes to the threat level.
I need you to be alert at all times.
In a clearance support role,
Team Oscar: Myself, Monk, Rabee, Prof and Zarek.
Cheese, Throbber...
I need you to secure the end of the street.
No-one in or out.
In a medical support role,
Private Saunders and Poya.
The area around the bomb factory is highly sensitive.
Your vigilance could save lives today.
Zero. Two Section standing by.
Let's go.
Zero. Clearance support has entered the building. All eyes on.
Has anyone got eyes on Omar?
- Not seen. - Not seen, boss.
Corridor clear. Insurgents not seen.
All sites are clear. Cease fire.
Approaching laundry.
Three, two, one.
On me.
Friendlies. Friendlies.
Zarek.
Setting charges now.
Everyone, clear.
3,2,1!
- Stay back! - Can we all just stay calm!
I told you! Just stay back.
- Oi! Stay back. - _
The crowd's getting lively!
Boss, be aware of the crowd going up our side.
Entering! Hands up! Hands up!
- Room cleared. Nobody touch anything. - They've gone.
Sir, they've legged it out the window.
- For fuck's sake. - Zero, this is One Zero Alpha.
All rooms are cleared. Bomb making factory found. Suspects gone.
I need you to withdraw and return to location.
Roger and out.
_
- Cheese! - What the hell, Cheese?
What have you done? He's an old man!
Cheese! What are you doing?
I did tell him.
Are you OK?
OK. Keep your head up! Let me see...
What the fuck's wrong with you?
You could have killed him.
Fuck off!
It's OK!
Zero, this is Four Zero Alpha requesting urgent back up.
Shit. Tallboy, man the gate. Keep eyes on me.
What on Earth were you thinking?
I told the geezer to stay back.
What was I supposed to do? Let some randomer screw up the raid?
Can you hear me OK?
Right. I need you to patch him up and return to the vehicle.
The Afghan Police and bomb disposal
- can deal with the fallout. - But Colour...
Now, medic!
Before this situation spirals out of control.
Right, let's move.
Poya, can you tell him that he needs to go to the hospital
and get this cut on his head checked out.
_
- Now, medic... - I cannot just leave him, here, Colour.
I've got a duty of care.
And I have a duty of care to save your arse, Private Saunders.
Then you're going to have to go without me. I'm sorry.
Zero, this is One Zero Alpha.
Request from One Zero Alpha for ambulance.
Serious civilian casualty, out.
Can you ask him his name and... ?
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Listen, I need you to stay with me, OK?
Colour, we need to hurry, Colour.
We don't have time to wait for an ambulance, Colour.
- We need to get him to a hospital now. - We need to follow procedure, medic.
Well, he might have a bleed on his brain
so I can't just leave him here to die, can I?
- There we go. - Hey!
We have an elderly man with suspected concussion.
- We need to get him to a hospital ASAP. - OK, OK, OK.
All right, medic. Let's move.
Satisfied, medic?
Oh, Sergeant Lane.
We don't have an appointment.
I've just listened in on the operation.
You know,
you asked me why I came back here
to Afghanistan.
It's because this place is the only thing I have left of Elvis.
You know,
I told myself that I was needed here.
That's a lie.
I had to be here.
It's the only place I feel
close to him and I know it sounds stupid...
It doesn't sound stupid.
But all I keep seeing is that explosion.
It's playing like a loop in my mind.
Going over and over and over and I see myself running...
... but I'm not quick enough.
You know, maybe if I'd got there sooner...
Elvis died as a result of the blast, Georgie.
- There was nothing you could do. - No, no, no.
He shouldn't have been up there in the first place.
They lured him into a trap.
And the guy responsible is getting treated like some VIP.
I can't escape him.
He's at home.
He's in my head. I close me eyes, he's there.
It's like he's following me around.
And he's taunting me.
How does that make you feel?
I want to hurt him.
I want him to know how it feels
to get his heart ripped from his chest.
And I know it sounds wrong
and I shouldn't be thinking like that but I'm angry.
I'm angry
because he took everything from me, from us.
Wedding, children...
All the memories we should be sharing together...
You know what, as well?
I look at my mum and dad
and I'm jealous,
because I will never have what they have.
Will I?
Because my soul mate...
... the person I was meant to spend the rest of my life with, is gone!
And he's not coming back.
And there's nothing I can do about it.
- Saunders, good work today. Poya, you too. - Sir.
Cheese.
What the hell went down with you and that old man?
He was coming at me, Colour. Acting in an aggressive manner.
He was an old codger.
I gave him clear instruction but he wouldn't listen.
Isn't that right, Throbber?
It's like he said, Colour.
Medic?
Yes, Colour.
I want a full statement in your after-incident reports.
Colour.
What's the big deal?
He's just some flip flop.
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Leave it!
Just ignore him.
He's chatting bollocks.
If you guys want to come by later
I've been saving up the Wi-Fi for the Hammers game.
Hammers? Look more like Millwall?
Just when I was starting to like my man.
Anyway. Later.
We're cool?
Chelsea boy.
How are you feeling?
Like I've just done one of Kingy's workouts: full kit.
Be kind to yourself, Georgie.
Remember, you need time to heal too.
I know I did.
Sally?
Cervical cancer.
It will be three years in November.
I'm sorry.
It may not seem like it now
but it does get easier.
So is that me and you done now?
This isn't the end, Georgie.
This is just the start for you.
The key now is to keep talking.
Whether that's here in Afghanistan or to someone at home.
That's certainly the recommendation I'll be making in my report.
So does that mean I can go back to active duty?
Unfortunately, the final decision doesn't rest with me.
But, if it's any consolation,
I don't think you have PTSD.
You're grieving, Georgie.
It doesn't detract from your abilities as a soldier.
- Thank you. - Thank you, Ma'am.
Thank you.
Stand up.
Stand easy, guys.
That was really good work today, Two Section.
It's just a shame they were one step ahead of us.
As a special treat, I've arranged for you to watch the Hammers' game
- on the big screen in the mess. - Nice one, sir.
We'd also like you to keep an eye out for a missing military dog.
Because at approximately 21:00
the dog in question is due to fly back to Melton Mowbray.
Melton Mowbray?
The home of the humble pork pie no less.
What's he doing there, Colour?
Convalescing at the Defence Animal Training Regiment
whilst they get him ready for civilian life.
So they're not going to put him down?
The only hardship that dog's going to face
is whether he has rabbit or chicken for his dinner.
So as Colour says, if you hear of anything,
do let us know.
Don't shoot the messenger. I just told you what I heard.
All you've got to do is put the dog back where you found it.
How am I supposed to do that?
That dog's got more eyes on him than Omar.
Fuck's sake. If I knew I'd be working with kids,
I'd have stayed at home with my Thumper.
Come on!
I can't believe I'm missing the Hammers' game for a fucking dog.
All right, Flash. You stay here, OK?
The chopper will come for you soon.
Good boy.
Safe trip, Flash.
Let's go.
Yo.
Did you see the way he just looked at me?
Monk. Come on.
So were you just going to ignore me?
Sorry. My head's somewhere else.
- Have you got a sec? - Yeah.
- Listen. What happened yesterday with Omar... - Look. It's fine.
I just had to make sure he was fit to be interrogated.
How was the psych assessment?
Really good.
I feel like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders.
Well, if that's not a reason to celebrate, I don't know what is.
Are you trying to get me drunk?
Unfortunately, it's non-alcoholic. But we could always pretend.
- Aw, crap. - Let me...
- Let me go find something to open this with. - OK.
_
Actually, can we save this beer for another time?
- Was it something I said? - No, no. It's just...
Today's took it out of me. That's all.
OK.
See you tomorrow.
Hey. I want a word with you, Cheese.
You are an absolute psychopath! Do you know that?
And don't worry! I'm going to make sure everyone of them knows
exactly what you did to that old man.
And what are your little friends gonna say
when they find out what you really are?
You keep my secret...
... and I'll keep yours.
Georgie.
What are you doing here?
I found a file about Omar on Antonio's desk.
- And? - And...
He's just signed him fit to be transferred to Pakistan.
You don't get it, do you?
He's known about Omar's deal this whole time.
So, what else did the file say?
That he's leaving tomorrow.
So that's that, then?
Well,
not necessarily. No.
It's not too late to change your mind.
I need to look him in the eye, Prof.
This might be my only chance.
Who are you?
I'm the girl whose future you stole.
Elvis Harte.
He was my fiancé.
Don't look at him. He's not going to help you.
You lured my fiancé into a trap...
... a radio-controlled IED.
Look at him.
LOOK at him.
He had his whole life ahead of him.
And you took him from me.
Georgie...
... we should go.
Because of you...
... I'm broken.
Have you got nothing to say?
Did you get what you want?
I thought I'd know as soon as I looked him in the eye.
Know what?
Whether he was sorry.
I mean, there was nothing.
Not even a flicker.
What're you saying?
You'll think I'm mad...
Try me.
There was just something about him.
I don't know.
_
Warlords aren't exactly shy in coming forward, are they?
Prof, he was just lying there, confused.
Your head has been all over the place.
Things aren't as you imagine them to be.
_
I thought I'd feel better...
... but I've just got this gnawing feeling, inside my gut.
Saying what exactly?
Something ain't right here.
Today's election will go down
as a significant turning point in Afghanistan's history
It is strange, isn't it? They'll be insurgents somewhere,
stood in a room, staring at a map of Kabul, looking for our weakness.
It's going to be carnage today, guys.
No wonder they don't trust us.
Important day. Let's try not to spoil it with silly behaviour.
That's where my fiancé was killed by Omar.
But you know about that.
Alert the bomb squad.
I want this whole wing evacuated right now. Let's go!
Outside the cement factory. Sergeant Lane in pursuit of insurgent!
Before you shoot me, you tell me the truth!
This was NOT the way things were supposed to have panned out.
Oh, my God!
You're Aatan Omar!
- Synced and corrected by chamallow - - www.addic7ed.com -