Thanks for the ride!
- Morning, Henry. - Dr. Fox.
Good morning, Dr. Fox.
Hey, Celia.
- Lucius. - How's everyone doing today?
- Well, Gully's in a mood. - Hold the front page.
- How are the new goggles holding up? - They work.
But I look like a welder.
We'll work on that.
Hi, there.
Yeah.
'Scuse me.
Got to take a look at your servo-motors.
Make sure those suckers are still...
a... o... kay.
So how's things?
Oh, I'm sad, Lucius.
Very sad.
I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe I can help.
- Why are you sad? - You ever been in love?
A catch-all term for a multitude of nebulous mental states.
Well, I suppose the answer's yes.
I've been in love.
Long time ago, mind you.
This here is...
This is a place without love.
You are loved by millions.
- A national hero. - Then why...
why do you keep down here underground then, huh?
- You know why. - Can't breathe down here.
Fresh air, that's... ha. Yeah, that's what I need.
I need some fresh air...
What you're breathing right now...
cleanest air in the world, actually.
I built the A/C system myself.
No, you built a cage, Fox. You built a... a fucking cage.
I'm sick of it, and fucking sick of you.
This facility was built for your comfort and protection.
I don't need protection.
Oh, I just need to get out of here.
What the bloody hell am I doing here anyway?
- Whoa... hold on now. - No.
Gully. Gully! Gully, tell me where you wanna go
and I'll clear it with the PM's office
and assemble a travel team.
I don't need a fucking travel team.
It's just protocol. For everyone's safety.
You know regular folks can get scared of you.
Well, fuck 'em then. Fuck 'em.
Copy that, but unfortunately,
the eye scanner won't allow anyone without access
up to the street.
Goodbye, Dr. Fox.
At least tell me when you'll be back.
I'm not coming back.
Fudge!
Ahh...
Get out, get out!
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
Martha Kane for Prime Minister Aziz.
When's he back?
Okay.
Thanks.
- Hello? - Sam?
Mrs. Pennyworth's here.
- Hi, Mrs. P. - Good morning.
Oh, um, it's nothing.
- Mrs. P! - Here she is! Shiny button.
Now, you guys have a great day, huh?
We'll meet you at the park later, okay?
- Be good for Mrs. P. Yeah? - I will.
All right. Mm.
- You'd better. - Bye, bye.
- Bye, Mummy, bye, Daddy. - Careful on the steps, sweetheart.
Mrs. P, are we gonna do something fun?
- We need to talk. - What time did you get home last night?
It was late.
I guess you... you what? You... you ran into a door?
Yeah. Something like that.
It's just a bump.
Some desk job.
Thomas...
I haven't been honest with you.
And I'm sorry. I-I really am.
You're sorry? For leading a secret double life?
For risking your life? For deceiving me?
- For betraying our marriage? - I didn't betray our marriage.
Yes, you did.
And now what? How are we supposed to move forward
if I can't trust you to tell me the truth?
Want some truth, Thomas?
Your father is neck-deep in some serious trouble.
What are you talking about?
You already know, don't you?
He told you what he's doing here.
And what if he did? What's your involvement?
But why would he tell you?
Because he wants your help.
He didn't want my help. He wanted yours.
And I told him no.
- You did? - The point is we're married.
We're supposed to trust each other.
And listen to us.
Okay, here's what I know.
Wayne Enterprise and the CIA are here in London
testing a new drug,
only something's gone badly wrong.
People are getting killed.
And that's why your father's here, right?
- Something like that. - So what's gone wrong?
Thomas. You might as well tell me.
As soon as Aziz gets back from Paris,
I'm briefing him on all this.
The doctor that developed the drug has gone AWOL.
- Glubb. - Right.
And my father wants to find him... that's all.
He's done nothing wrong.
Nothing... criminal, technically.
Okay, well, then he's got nothing to fear.
Jessica Thistle was shot and killed last night
after going on a second blood-splattered killing spree,
this one at the residence of the singer Sandra Onslow.
The police haven't released the names of anyone involved
or how Miss Thistle came to be at the singer's flat.
Miss Thistle was seen as an example
of the escalating drug use and depravity
of today's youth
after she gruesomely and brutally stabbed her parents to death,
Sir Arnulf and Lady Annabel,
who are being laid to rest today in a private ceremony.
And now, the surprising controversy erupting
- over the gold medal winner... - Result.
Didn't even mention us.
Looks like we're in the clear for this one.
Bravo, Mr. Aziz, for once.
Yeah.
You okay?
Been a long time since I've killed a woman.
Hmm. Never pleasant.
Feels like I've done something wrong.
There's always gonna be cock-ups. It's nobody's fault.
Ah.
It was me that brought her there.
Poor wee hen didn't even know what she was doing.
And you did what you had to do.
- Enough said. - Cheers.
Says in the paper she was an evil hippie drug fiend
filled with hatred.
That's not bloody fair, is it?
Well, she did stab up several people.
Maybe we misjudged her.
That was the drugs that made her do it.
She was a fine young woman.
It's not fair, dragging her name through the mud like that.
She's brown bread, Daveboy. She doesn't mind.
What about her family, eh? Hearing all that shite?
Oh, forget about it, mate.
Nobody believes what they read in the papers.
Lucius Fox for you.
Tell him I'm not here.
I did. Says he knows you're sitting in the bar with Daveboy.
I fucking knew he had cameras in here somewhere.
Did I not tell you that?
Have you got cameras in here?
Of course I do. Never mind that. It's Gully.
He took off.
Well, it's a lovely day out.
- He's entitled. - Well, that's all very well.
- But what if he goes rogue? - Well, he's bound to eventually.
Stands to reason.
We need your help to bring him in.
Quickly and quietly.
Sorry. Had a bit of a long night.
The only thing I'm doing today is having a nice kip.
We know where he is.
You should be home in a few hours.
Easy money.
If he's in London or the home counties, you're on.
Jackpot's betting shop in Hackney, okay?
Yeah.
Gully's gone AWOL.
Gotta fetch him home.
How is Captain Blighty our problem?
He's not. It's just a job.
What about solving the Thistle case?
The Thistle case? Hmm.
- You discovered any clues, Miss Marple? - Aye, fucking boatloads.
- Yeah, like what? - Well, all that stuff that Martha said
about the drugs and the CIA covering their tracks
by killing the fake nanny...
By Jove, Holmes. I think you've cracked the case.
Oh, fuck off. It's a clue.
Yeah, a clue best left to MI5.
I'm not fucking about with the CIA,
not for half an unpaid invoice.
And what about justice?
And you call me soft?
Not for justice neither,
and certainly not with a good paid collection job on the go.
Well... I'm not up for a job today.
I wasn't asking you.
Get some sleep. I'll call you later.
You... you want another?
Well, I'm here, aren't I?
Morning. Thought you'd be at work.
I told them I'd be late.
Thought I'd call that man you recommended today.
See if he can round up this missing employee.
Put all this behind us.
I doubt Alfred can fix this now.
Why's that?
Martha knows about Operation Lullaby State.
And the CIA.
And you.
- She's putting it all together. - You told her?
She knew.
She's going to the prime minster as soon as he gets back from Paris.
- Christ. - Let's get ahead of this thing, Dad.
Let's go to the English government
- and tell them what we know. - What?
They can help you track down this guy. The, uh, the doctor.
You think the English government
is just gonna turn him over to me once they have him?
Not a chance.
Has Martha told anyone else about this?
I doubt it. She reports directly to Aziz.
Well, that's something, I guess.
What's going on, Dad?
- What are you not telling me? - Nothing.
On your mother's grave, I've told you everything.
Okay.
Then go to the authorities before they come to you.
No.
- Not an option. - Dad.
No.
Let me call the shots, son.
Right now we need to be family.
I need to know that you're in my corner.
Uh-huh.
I'm in your corner.
Thanks. Means a lot.
Maybe one day that'll be a corner office in Wayne Tower.
- Hey. - Morning, all.
- What's he carrying? - He has a crate of whiskey.
Several hostages. And two days' battery charge.
Whiskey? That's not good.
I'm sure you can talk him down.
He always speaks very highly of you.
Did he mention I fucked his wife?
He does mention that.
But in a philosophical sort of way.
Mostly.
So you want me to go in there
for my regular fee
and extract a sad drunk with a death ray
who has every reason to despise me?
That's classy, Alfred.
Using your sordid love life to gauge a pay rise.
If I was married to a billionaire, I'd have much more class.
- Ha ha ha! - Ouch.
Touché.
- Okay, give me a number. - Double.
Go get him. Try to make it quick.
- Any ideas? - Yes.
- His suit has a kill switch. - I'm not gonna kill him.
No.
It's a small switch at the base of the neck plate.
Press it, and you'll cut his power.
His guns'll go off line, and he won't be able to move.
- But he'll be fine. - Does he know about the switch?
'Fraid so.
Now, he'll be fine for about five minutes.
Then we'll need to plug him in to this baby for a recharge.
- Or else what? - He'll die.
Oh, good to know.
- I'll get on with it then. - Thank you.
I'll fire up the bio-charges.
Martha.
When Thomas came to see me yesterday,
he had Samantha with him.
But my mum said she was working yesterday.
Why would she say that?
I think she might be seeing a man.
I was wondering if she'd said anything.
Switch. Behind the neck. Don't overthink it.
Can't risk any civilian casualties.
Gully, it's Alfie.
- I'm coming in. - Alfie.
Come on in, son.
Come and have a drink with me.
All right, Gull? Been awhile.
Yeah, someone fetch my old friend here a bottle, will you?
A drink for my friend.
Thanks, mate.
I, uh...
- I thought they might call you. - Oh, yeah? Why's that?
Someone they thought that I could trust.
- Hmm. - Someone who could get close.
You want me to turn around?
Make it easy for you?
When have you ever made things easy for me, Gully?
So what's this all about then?
- Why'd you run off? - Ohh...
I'm a wretched bloody serf, aren't I?
Bound to my master's land
and the whims of a rotting nobility.
I wanted freedom.
I don't blame you for going doolally, the way you have to live.
But on the bright side, you're Captain Blighty.
People love you.
Yeah, that's what they say, isn't it? Hah.
Not true though.
No, they... they're scared of me.
Of course they're scared, the way you carry on.
I mean, look around.
But on the plus side, there's a lot of love there.
When you're not being a cunt.
Cheers.
You know, this man here, he fucked my wife.
Steady on. Water under the bridge, eh?
Fucked my wife.
And came this close to killing me
with a sharpened stick right here.
You know what?
He's the only friend I've got in the whole bloody world.
Who said I'm your friend?
You are my friend.
Aren't you, Alfie?
Of course I am.
Come any closer...
I'm gonna have to stick a very small hole right through your temple.
Fair play.
Ahh.
Sorry. Where are my manners?
Please yourself.
What about you, miss?
No, thank you.
- You wouldn't be a Thistle? - No.
You point them out to me?
Ah.
- Thank you. Noted. - You don't know the Thistles?
No.
So why are you here?
- I'm here for Jessica. - You knew Jessica?
I did.
What a terrible, horrible tragedy.
It's horrible.
It's not my fault.
I had no choice.
I'm sorry?
No, I'm sorry. I'm, uh, raving and...
A wee bit under the weather.
All rise.
What do you know about pharmacology?
A little. Why?
Do you think a drug could make someone kill?
For someone who didn't want to?
Sure. I guess it's possible.
But I've never heard of anything like that.
- What does Thomas say? - Thomas?
Oh.
You know doctors. Too much jargon.
Couldn't understand half of what he said.
That's doctors for you.
- No offense. - None taken.
I have to meet Sam and Mrs. P.
But, um, you can handle it from here, right?
Sure. Alfie'll come through.
- Always does. - I'll check in with you later.
Lucius, do not get married.
You ever thought of children, Alfie?
- Thought of them? - Mm.
Yeah. Not much, but I have thought of them.
I always wanted children.
A proper family, you know?
You're not a domestic animal, Gully.
- Oh? - There's no shame in that.
Homes and gardens, settees and doilies.
Not your purview.
Well... that's you talking.
I daresay.
No. You know, Melanie didn't love me.
That was the problem.
I couldn't make her love me.
That was a long time ago, eh?
- Best look to the future. - She loved you though.
A passing infatuation.
What was it that she saw in you
that... that she didn't see in me?
Gully, that was a long time ago.
Oh, come on.
Come on. Tell me.
All right.
I didn't get drunk all the time.
I didn't beat her.
Oh.
Mm.
Good to know.
Is that what this is all about?
- Melanie? - I miss her.
Oh.
In fact, when I finish this bottle,
I'm gonna watch the two ten at Catterick.
And then I'm gonna commandeer myself a big, bloody ship,
go to America, and find her.
You once told me that a good soldier faces facts.
Yeah.
Well, face the facts, Gully.
The government aren't letting you go to America.
You're a valuable bit of kit. A national asset.
They'd sink your bloody ship before they let the Yanks
or anyone else have you.
I can't carry on like this, I...
I got to escape somehow.
Yeah, fair play. I don't blame ya.
Why don't we go back to Fox's place?
Give yourself a while to come up with a better plan than this lark.
Yeah.
Oh, fuck. Banville Lady. At 50 to 1, I had her!
I'd be fucking minted. Minted.
- If not for Captain Assface. - Oi.
- Show some respect. - What did you call me, sir?
You're an assface car battery.
- Bollocks. - Watch it.
How dare you.
Oh... ooh...
- Oof. - Good riddance.
Had to be done.
I'm beginning to suspect
that you're not quite as good a friend
as I thought you w...
Sorry, Gull.
Come on, then.
Hang on a sec. Where you going?
Fuck's sake, mate. First you want him out.
Now you want him to stay. Which is it?
He cost me a sure thing.
- Now he can pay us back. - How's that?
Well, that suit must be worth some serious dosh.
- Leave it, and you can go. - Oh, give over.
This is Captain bloody Blighty. National hero.
He's having a bad day. We all have them.
- Fuck him. - Shame on you.
Where's your patriotism?
- Where's your compassion? - Right here.
All right, calm down, lads.
Thank you...
augh!
Ah!
Okay. I need a... a...
Easy, mate.
- No need for that. - No need? No need?
50 to 1!
Bloody horses are a mug's game, aren't they?
One day you're up, the next you're down.
Premium Bonds is the thing...
Ah!
Close your mouth. Come on.
- Pretty high! - Mrs. P!
Mrs. P, did you tell Alfie you were working yesterday?
That boy doesn't know when to let things lie.
Yes, I did.
- That's what I told him. - Okay.
It was a lie.
Okay.
I was seeing a man.
Wow.
Tell me everything.
No, I mean, if you want to. Only if you want to.
I won't pry.
Actually, I will pry. But you can tell me to shut up.
I know how it is to have a secret life.
Have to have something for yourself, right?
Mm-hmm.
I, uh...
There was an advertisement in the paper.
The Lonely Hearts?
My God, that's so brave.
I wish they wouldn't call it that.
"Lonely Hearts." It sounds so sad.
No, it doesn't.
You're taking action.
Taking control of your own life.
So how was it? Who'd you meet?
You won't tell anyone, will you?
No, Mary, no. Of course not.
We met at nice tea rooms.
Good cakes. Adequate tea.
The gentleman seemed amiable enough.
Till, bold as brass,
he said "carpe diem."
- What does that mean? - Mm, well, you may well ask.
You're too well brought up, Martha, so you wouldn't know.
It means, "What about a bit of how's your father?"
Whose father? I don't understand.
He asked me to go to a hotel with him
and have S-E-X.
Okay.
- Did you? - Stop it!
Of course, I didn't.
You didn't? You swear? Come on.
No! I swear.
Would never do that.
- Did you want to? - No.
Not even a little bit?
Well...
- Maybe a little bit. - I knew it.
Out of curiosity.
You know, more than lust.
I've only ever been with one man.
I always wondered if it was different
with different men.
Uh, yes. You bet it is.
I suspected as much.
Mary, don't let one bad date stop you.
You deserve to be happy.
Mummy, Mummy, I'm going on the slide!
Things were so much simpler
- back when I met Alfie's father. - Mummy, look!
- How long were you two married? - 28 years.
What's the secret?
- Hm. - Look, Mummy!
Respect.
You're husband and wife, for better or worse.
Everything else is just what passes the time.
I'll go get her stuff packed up.
- Mrs. Wayne. - Yes?
My name is Dr. Robert Glubb.
We need to talk.
Not here.
There's a pub in the East End called the Queen Anne's Revenge.
Meet me there in half an hour.
Is he okay?
I need to run a full diagnostic to be sure,
but yeah, I think we got him plugged in just in time.
He wants to go to America.
- To find Melanie. - Oh, wow.
- Good. - Good? How?
He's never going. Aziz'd never allow it.
And even if he did, I mean, look at the state of him.
Can hear you.
Sorry, Gull.
Didn't mean anything by it.
Don't be.
It's true. Look at me. I'm not a man.
I'm a household appliance.
I'm listening.
Tell Aziz he can have me and the lullaby drug for the right price.
Well, first I need to know you are who you say you are.
- I'm Dr. Glubb all right. - Convince me.
I used to work for your father-in-law.
I developed a completely new and extremely effective class of drug.
Psycho-kinetics.
Now I want to sell my expertise on the open market,
Wayne Enterprises and the CIA are out to kill me, okay?
I'm Dr. Glubb.
No one else wants to be me.
You killed that CIA officer?
I regret that. It's unavoidable.
I had to get away from him.
Okay. Let's assume you're Glubb.
So why are you coming to us now?
My original buyer was murdered to stop the deal.
There's not many other buyers who can afford me.
That original buyer would be Sir Arnulf Thistle?
Yes.
Are you interested or not?
What's the right price?
I need $5 million a year, a secure laboratory,
and full protection.
- You don't come cheap. - I'm worth it. Trust me.
I'll talk to the Prime Minister.
- I'll be in touch. - Wait.
Tell me about Patrick Wayne.
What part does he have in all this?
- We don't have time. - Talk fast.
Wayne's not the one you have to worry about.
Go, go, go, go.
Go!
Change of plan. We gotta clean up.
Okay, ma'am. We don't have clearance.
No, I don't need clear it with anyone.
This is my op.
- Just do it. - Yes, ma'am.
"I hold it true whate'er befall. I feel it when I sorrow most.
"'Tis better to have loved and lost
then never to have loved at all."
Thank you, Lady Catherine.
I believe that's the last of our eulogies...
Excuse me.
Sorry to interrupt, Padre, but, uh...
- do you mind if I say a quick word? - It's not really the moment.
I'll be just a sec.
This won't take a sec.
I didn't really know these two.
But wherever they are, I'm sure they're probably better off.
The fucking world being what it is these fucking days, eh?
I knew their daughter Jessica.
Not very well. I only met her yesterday.
But we had a good chat.
And I know that she is not the monster
that everybody's saying that she is.
She deserved far better than what she got.
She was going after my mate, yeah.
So I had no choice.
I had to shoot her.
I... she didn't suffer. Hey?
It was a good blot. Dead before she hit the ground.
No way she felt a thing.
So silver linings and all that, hey?
There are worse ways to go, believe me.
I'd say being eaten alive is probably the worse.
Uh...
I was... I was out on patrol one day. This is way back east.
And someone said, "Watch out for the fucking crocodiles."
We thought that was fucking hilarious.
Fucking crocodiles?
And then, what do you know? It fucking...
That's enough. You need to leave.
- I'm telling a fucking story here, pal. - Let's go.
I'm not fucking finished, am I?
- Hey! - Vicar!
Hey!
You need to leave now.
I'll fucking leave when I'm ready to fucking leave!
You... fuck!
Martha?
Samantha?
Anyone home?
Just us, I'm afraid.
Mind pouring one of those for me?
And don't be shy.
Sure.
Uh, where's my father?
No idea. When I left this morning,
he seemed very worried about something.
Did he?
You wouldn't happen to know what he was worried about?
Nope.
You're a bad liar.
Especially for a Wayne.
Uh, well, I assure you, I'm... I'm not lying.
Mm-hmm.
How are you and Martha?
Excuse me?
Your father and I staying here is a nuisance, I know.
I'd hate to think I was the cause of a marital rift.
No, uh, no rift.
We're, uh, we're great. Better than ever.
Hmm.
I'm so glad to hear it.
Hmm.
Well, uh, Martha and Samantha will be home soon.
So I should, um... I should make a start on dinner.
Doesn't your housekeeper do that?
Oh, it's her night off.
Are you good?
In the kitchen?
Uh, I try.
Need a hand?
Mm-mm.
No. I'm good.
Hmm.
Oh, my God.
Quiet.
I can't let you do this.
- We don't have time for this. - I'm serious. No more.
- This is going too far. I... - Patrick, go to your room.
- You can't do this. I'm the... - Go to your room.
That was the best funeral I have ever been to.
Ah.
You oughta see me at weddings.
You just ripped away the whole silly bourgeois façade of it all.
Well, I'll pay for any damages.
You were fabulous.
Do you need to go to hospital?
Hey, no. Soft gits. Couldn't hurt a fly.
- I've had worse, believe me. - Oh, I do.
Sally Prufrock. Pleasure.
Wallace MacDougal.
- My friends call me Daveboy. - Why?
- Why do they call you Daveboy?
I've never asked.
Oh, you're very funny, Mr. Daveboy.
Would you like to go for a drink with me?
- Can I ask you a question? - Of course.
When I said that Gully wanted to go to America
to find Melanie,
you said you thought that was good. Why?
It's a reason to live, however hopeless.
A reason to live?
It's a bit melodramatic, don't you think?
You saw him today. What do you think?
I think that Gully Troy's too much of an arrogant prick
to go quietly.
Always has been.
That's what made him such a good officer.
- Strange. - What's that?
I wouldn't have thought to classify arrogance
as a characteristic of good military leadership.
Trust me.
It's the only fucking characteristic.
You have to believe that you're somehow special.
That the rules of life and death don't apply to you.
That was Gully fucking Troy.
And if you served under him, that was you too.
I'm not sure how much of that Gully's left.
Mm, people don't change.
Maybe that's the problem.
He didn't change when he had the chance.
Now it's too late, and he knows that.
Blimey.
You're a real ray of fucking sunshine.
Sorry.
Polite conversation's never been my strong suit.
Mm.
I should go back, check on Gully.
Thanks for the beer, Alfie.
- Yeah? - Sandra here?
She's not taking visitors.
Bloody parasites.
? Forgot my six-string razor ?
Party's over. Everyone out.
- Who the hell are you? - I'm the man giving you a choice.
Out a door, out a fucking window. Makes no difference to me.
- Hey, there's no reason to be so... - Shut it!
Oh, there's a privet hedge. You'll be all right.
Out!
And you lot, out!
All right, all right.
Hey.
Alfie?
What are you doing here?
I was in the area. Got peckish.
Thought I'd see if you could do us a sandwich.
No. No sandwiches.
Never mind.
I expect there's biscuits at least.
Are you all right?
No, I'm not.
Are you really here for a sandwich?
No.
Yes.
Tell him to call me as soon as he lands.
Thanks.
Samantha's all tucked in.
She's fast asleep already.
Thank you.
Do you know where Thomas is?
- Good even, Thomas. - Oh, hey, Mrs. P.
Where have you been?
Well, my father and Virginia are out for the night,
and so I thought I'd pick up dinner for two.
I got the Sole with the lemon butter
from Mirabelle's that you like.
- Really? - Yeah.
I'll heat it up and open the wine now.
Okay.
What?
Have a lovely evening.
Thanks.
- This is really... - So, I was...
- Um, after you. - No, after you.
Uh, well, I was... I was just thinking that, um...
we need to take a step back from all this drama
and remember the important stuff.
That's funny.
I was thinking the exact same thing.
Which is that we love each other.
And we have a beautiful daughter.
- And nothing else matters. - Exactly.
I'm sorry I lied to you.
I'll never do that again.
Yeah, well.
I'm sorry that I was judgmental and self-righteous.
I'll go.
Wayne Residence. Thomas speaking.
? I hear you whispering ?
? But nobody is there ?
? My eyes are still lingering ?
? On your empty chair ?
? My darling... ?
Is everything okay?
Thomas?
What's wrong?
- Nothing. - Obviously something is.
Who was that on the phone?
I can't tell you.
- Why not? - I don't trust you.
Come on.
I thought we just now agreed to get past all this.
Easy for you to say.
What's that supposed to mean?
Look at us.
We're both prisoners.
We're both of us guilty.
Thomas? There's no need to exaggerate.
- What are you doing? - I'm sorry. No choice.
Thomas!
Thomas.
Please don't do this. Thomas.
I'll see you in hell.
Oh, my God.
Hang on, Martha. Hang on!
? I gave you... ?
Yes, I need an ambulance now at 34 Edith Row.
And send the police as well.
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --