Welcome to the Punch (2013) - full transcript

- Talk to me.

- Yes, tonight.

Sternwood is doing it tonight.

- Jesus, Max,
you might finally have got him.

Where?
- Aberdeen Square.

- Are you sure?
- Yeah.

Yeah, I'm positive.

Fuck!

- Lewinsky?

- Max, Sternwood
is highly dangerous.

You're obsessed!



You're not thinking straight!

Listen to ma.
Backup is on its way.

Don't go in unarmed.

Repeat: Do not go in unarmed.

That is an order!

- Agh!

Ag h!

Ag h!

Ah!

- Newspaper, sir?

Newspaper?

Paper, sir?
- No.

- Paper, sir?

- Yes, thank you.



- Newspaper, sir?

Would you like a newspaper?

- Ladies and gentlemen,
my name is Joanna McCauley

and I'm your
Chief Flight Attendant.

On behalf of Captain Hanna
and the entire crew,

welcome aboard
this non-stop flight

from London to Reykjavik.

Our flight time
will be approximately

2 hours and 35 minutes.

We'll be flying at an altitude
of 32,000 feet

and a ground speed
of 500 miles per hour.

- Sir!
Sir, the seat belt sign is-

Sir!

- Get out of the way!

Dad?

- Ruan?

- I'm so sorry, Dad.

I wouldn't have made it.

- Made it back?

- Yeah, I fucked up.

- What do you mean?
What's wrong?

- Dad, I fucked up.

I have to go back
to the Greigo Mar.

- Greigo Mar,
what's that?

- Dad.

- Look, if you're in some kind
of trouble, I can have somebody-

- Dad, I'm scared.

- Lie down on the floor!
- Freeze!

- Ruan, where are you?

- Dad

- Ruan!

- Gun crime is an election issue
this morning.

After last night's shooting
of two young men,

Robert Wiseman,
the shadow home secretary,

has, again, called for

the police force
to be fully armed.

' Max!

We're late.

Again.

Wow.

Place is looking
really homely, Max.

So, Mr. Warns,

escorting convoys
and guarding VIPs,

your days have got to be
pretty regimented, haven't they?

- Something-something funny?

- I'm wise to you.
- Yeah?

- I can see the path
that you're on.

It's like I'm looking
at a grid zone...

all rolled out
in little coordinates.

And I'm tracking exactly where
you're going with it.

I reel off my old routine

like the brainwashed robot
that you think I am.

And then you tell me
how unfortunate it is

that someone
with my conditioning

doesn't know
his exact movements

on Saturday night.

- Well, the security guard
patrolling the container yard

said he saw you

and a kid
fitting the description

of Otis Blake
the night he was murdered.

That's unfortunate.

In fact, he took down
your number plate.

- Means you're fucked.

- Yeah, well, I told them,

and now I'm telling you...

I was with my grandmother.

- Doing what?

- I was watching a film.

- What film?

- Calamity Jane.

- It is a classic.

- How's that film end again?

- They ride off
into the fucking sunset.

Prick.

- All right, Max.
- All right, mate.

- They want to see you.

- Max.

- Nathan. Sir.

We all good?

- We're letting Warns go.

The security guard
who identified him

at the container yard,

he's retracted his statement.

Says he made a mistake.

Warns' grandmother
backs up his alibi,

says she was with him
all night,

watched the film
Calamity Jane.

- This is bullshit.

- I need this arrest
more than anyone,

but without hard evidence,
he walks, all right?

- So what, nothing turn up
at the container yard?

- Team swept every dock,
found nothing.

- You know why he was
thrown out of the army, Nathan?

- He resigned.

- He was guilty.

- The witness has retracted,

the container yard is clean,

and Warns' alibi is solid.

The decision's
already been made, okay?

- Well, the decision's bad.

- And so's your attitude.

- Oi, why don't you go
and wait inside, yeah?

Go on.

She's good at her job, you know?

- No, I like her.

She's got the same fire
that you used to have.

- How can you just stand there
and not even argue your point?

- If I had a point,
I'd argue it.

- When I asked to work
with you, Max,

I thought
you'd at least have my back.

- Yeah, look...

Look, I've just learned
not to get involved, all right?

- You've just learned to take it
up the ass from Geiger.

- Human emotion, my God.

- You want to get yourself
a notebook.

- You're worried I might get
ink poisoning, aren't you?

- Ifs already
infected your tongue.

- At least my ass
is still intact.

- Juka, what's that about?

- Young guy traveling under
the passport of William Morgan

collapses on the runway
at City Airport.

Turns out the real Morgan
died five years ago

in a car crash
in Dudlow, Essex.

- So what?

- So they check
his fingerprints.

Turns out that he was arrested
as a kid for shoplifting.

- Juka, come on, man,
my toast is getting cold.

- It's Ruan Sternwood.

- All right, I'm being asked
a lot of the same questions,

so grab pens,
'cause I'm not repeating it.

Last night,
Jacob Sternwood's son,

Ruan Sternwood,
was picked up at City Airport

suffering from a gunshot wound
to the stomach.

Ballistics show he was shot
by the same gun as Otis Blake,

but this,

this is the icing.

Before Ruan collapsed,
he made a call

from a mobile to a landline
in Hella, Iceland.

Right now, an SFO Unit's
making its way

to a remote address
94 kilometers east of Reykjavik.

They'll make entry
at approximately 2200 hours,

and they've been instructed
to shoot to disable.

- It won't work.
- Why?

- Because it won't.
They need to hold off...

or let Sternwood think
we haven't clocked on.

Surround the house,
take him when he moves.

That's when he's vulnerable.

' Max!

- Say something, then.
- No.

- Something you want
to add, mate?

- No.

No.

- It won't work.

Uh, all right, um...

Well, what do you think
will work...

Sarah?

- Well, Nathan...

You've got to...

hold off,

wait.

Surround the house,
and...

take him when
he's least expecting it.

- And if I tell them
to hold off

and we turn up and find out
that he's got away...again.

Who's gonna take the flak?

- You had no problem
pointing the finger last time.

- You disobeyed orders.

You paid the price.

If you're such an expert, Max,
why's he still at large,

and why is you
not standing up here?

- I don't give a fuck
about any of that stuff.

Do you know what, mate?

It's your call.

- Yeah, it is.

And it's done.

- Max, this is gonna be hard.

Try not to act too smug.

- Innocent people
were killed last night.

I'm not smug about anything.

- You know what I mean.

- Oh, for God's sake,

I'm Robert Wiseman's
campaign manager.

Max...

Tell him who I am.
- What? Uh, no.

I've never seen her
before in my life.

- And we're trying to establish

whether there's a link
between the two cases.

Right, I'll take any questions
you might have.

- That's two people
in a related shooting

and not a single lead
to show for it.

- As I said,
we're on top of it.

I'm confident it will be

resolved quickly
and efficiently.

- Thanks.

- How do you react to the shadow
home secretary's claims

that we're suffering
twice the level of violent crime

committed
in the United States?

- Well, I'm not gonna
get involved

in an election campaign.

Suffice to say,
whoever takes office on the 21st

needs to ensure the police

have all the resources they need

to carry out their job-.

- You think what happened
to Sternwood's son

will draw him out?

- I was shot in the leg, Jane,
not in the head.

- Don't I know it.

- Arm transport police
with Tasers,

increasing
the number of officers

qualified to utilize firearms.

- Don't ask.

- Wasn't gonna.
- Next.

- Your own figures
show a 17% increase in gun crime

in the last 12 months.

- I'm not gonna get
into a debate about statistics.

No more relevant questions,

I'll bid you all
a good morning.

Thank you.

- Tough questions.

- I've heard worse.

- You ducked them like a pro.

- I'd take that
as a compliment...

if you weren't

the shadow home secretary's
campaign manager.

- We win this election,

and you'll get
the backing you need,

but for now, the questions
are gonna get tougher.

- Well, I'm sure you'll
spin it to your own agenda.

- The kid at the airport,

any truth
he's Jacob Sternwood's son?

- Where did you get that?

- Come on.

I ran your press for five years.

Could be useful.

- If it's handled well.

- Yeah.

- See you, Jane.
- See you.

- I've got a meeting
with the anti-gun lobby.

I've got two minutes.

- Max and I were
just discussing this Blake case,

and we thought
there may be a way in

through Ruan Sternwood.

Didn't we, Max?

- Uh, yeah.

Look, I don't know
about a Blake case, but...

if it was me,
and it's not me,

but if it was,

I'd put Ruan
in an open hospital, public,

man it 'round the clock,
dangle the hooks,

see if Sternwood bites.

That's it.

- You think
you two are up to this?

- Yeah, of course we are.

Aren't we?

- Mm-hmm.

- Max?

- He's still reeling
from last time.

- He was bang on
about Iceland, wasn't he?

- Look, um...

I'm up to it, all right?

- You leave the Blake case
to Nathan,

and you stay out of his way,
do you understand?

I take your point.

You get the hospital,
but that's all.

- Thom, he's too close to it.

- Nathan, fuck off.

- I'm not too close,

I'm just over it.

- You won't have a problem,
then, will you?

- Do you want me
to start on row two?

- No, no, just start
with the "A" class, son.

- Yes, boss.

- Jesus, Jake.

Why don't we
just let off some fireworks

while we're at it?

- I wouldn't be here
if I wasn't a thousand percent.

You know that.

- Come here.

Car was run-of-the-mill?

- It was perfect.

- Took a few knocks?

- I've had worse.

- So why did you
level the house?

- Became just another place
to hide.

I'd rather see it burn.

- If it's any consolation...

you're looking good.

- Great outdoors.
- Mm.

- What's that?

- Karen says I carry it off.

- Oh, does she now?

Well, you look like
Kenny Rogers.

- Mm, I can shave,

and you'll still look like
a bag of smashed crabs.

- How is he?

- They've taken him
to St. Bart's.

" And?

- Apparently Ruan was involved
in some low-level stuff,

nothing serious.

But he started hanging out
with a kid called Otis Blake.

All mouth, no muscle.

Ruan raised the cash,

using the family name
as leverage.

Otis did the deals.

And that's where
it gets complicated.

Four days ago,
Otis was found

floating in the Thames
with a bullet in his head.

The next day,
they pick up Ruan

at City Airport
suffering from a gunshot wound.

They know who he is, Jake.

They're going to make
an example of him

because of us...

because of you.

- Eastover Air,
Beaverbrook chartered,

Conlin Museum,

Sherriff capital,

Armourers Pacific,
elite security,

landed armored trucks twice.

He's created
a legend for himself.

I'll give him that.

- What?

- Man can kidnap,
kill, rob, hurt people...

He gets called a legend.

Do well at school, Juka?

Get good marks and all that?

- Yeah.
- Mm-hmm?

- Yes.

- So you work hard,

you do your best,

and I guarantee

you'll get remembered
as a nobody.

Only lasting thing
about Jacob Sternwood

should be
his fucking prison sentence.

- Do you work here?
- What's that?

- Sorry, mate.
Do you work-

I'm looking for room 45.

- Second door on the right.

- Nice one.
Cheers, mate.

- Get down!

Fuck are you doing here?

- I'm looking for room 45!

- All right, fuck that.
Up you get, come on.

Who fucking sent you?
Who sent you?

- No one sent me.
- You're lying to me already.

- Max! Max!

- I fucking swear!

- Can I ask
a few questions, sir?

No, no, no, ifs fine.
It's fine.

It's fine.
You're all right.

- Oi.

Who told you that was room 45?

- What?
I don't know.

Some tall geezer
in a baseball cap.

- Move, move!

Get down!

' Max!

- How is he?

- We're not gonna walk him
out of there.

Lewinsky's all over him.

- I told you.

You should have killed
that prick

when you had the chance.

- Do you know the Greigo Mar?

- Yeah, it's a...

hotel.

- Ruan mentioned it

the night he called.

It was the last thing he said.

Take me there.

- Sorry. Excuse me.

- Excuse me,
what's going on?

- He's going
into cardiac arrest.

Wait outside.

- No, if you let this out,
he'll disappear.

- Oi, you just stuck a gun
in a visitor's face.

They're trying to kick us
out of here.

- All right, all right,
all right.

Look, look, look, just...

Let me think.
Just"

You keep Sarah and I
posted here, all right?

We keep things ticking over.

You release
that Ruan's improved,

and that's going to keep
Sternwood in play.

If he thinks
he can walk his son out,

he's gonna check the angles.

- Thom.

Look, at the very least,
it's gonna keep the press

off your back
for a couple of more days.

- All right, you stay here.

Got it all figured out,
haven't you?

- He would have checked in
under his mother's name.

- Welcome to Greigo Mar Hotel.

- Roy, bring me that penknife.

- What are you thinking?

- I'm thinking...

you put it out there

Ruan Sternwood was staying
at the Greigo Mar Hotel,

and let's see
what comes crawling in.

. Okay-

- Can you hide that
somewhere safe?

- Yeah.

- When you've done that,

go home,
kiss your wife.

Don't get involved in this mess.

- I was involved the second
they pulled the trigger.

- I take it
we're not staying here.

- You are.

I'm gonna go track down
this security guard,

see if he's been squared off
by Sternwood.

- What, you think
he shot his own son?

- No, no, I think
he's been planning something.

It fucked up, and now
he's covering his tracks.

- Can you just take a step back
for a minute?

- What the fuck's
that supposed to mean?

- Meaning maybe it's not
all about Jacob Sternwood.

- What else is it about?

- Dean Warns, for a start,

and a dead 22-year-old.

- Yeah, which all lead back
to Jacob Sternwood.

I've just got to figure out how.

- You? Right, right.
- Yeah, me.

- You know what?

Catching Sternwood
is not going to change the past.

- It has to!

Or I'm always gonna be

that nobody
that got shot in a tunnel

and let him get away with it.

- Listen.
- Don't.

- Please.
- Sarah, please.

- Listen to me.

What went down in that tunnel

does not make you a nobody.

- Hey, trust me.

Concentrate on now...

'cause you're too good
at your job to waste it.

No...

- No.

You're still gonna have to
stay here and cover for me.

- Didn't anything I just say
make sense to you?

- I understood it,
just don't agree with it.

- I'm coming with you.

- Sarah,
I am not fucking asking.

You're staying here.

- Fuck off.

- So...

it's down to you,
whatever you want.

I mean, you want it new-school
or old-school?

We roll it new-school.

I'll get that shit on Facebook,
Twitter, BBM.

Instant, right?

That's the way the gospel's
usually spread nowadays:

cyber-styley.

We go old-school,
it's more orthodox methods,

people on the pavement:

bookies, dog tracks, runners.

Bit of a nightmare,
but I can do it.

Or I can blitz it
on both platforms,

but that's pretty much
gonna be double.

You want me to get rid
of this shit?

- Ruan Sternwood is staying
at the Greigo Mar Hotel,

room 1308.

Just put that out there, okay?

And, Rob...

you mess this one up,

I'll show you
fucking old-school.

- Don't forget
to take your sandwiches.

- All right.
See you later.

Go back in. lt's cold.
- I'm all right.

- Joseph 0109')?

All right, wait there.

Did you ever see or hear

a Jacob Sternwood
at the container yard?

- No.
- No?

You never met him?

Then what'd you retract
your statement for?

You said you were positive

you saw Dean Warns
with Otis Blake

the night he was killed.

What's changed?

- All you people look the same.

- Yeah? Look at this.

Go on, look at it.

He'll walk free,
do it again,

and that'll be your fault.

- Look, in Nigeria,

this is reality.

No one gets justice.

- Yeah, and in this country,

you'll go to prison
for taking bribes

and pretending
something didn't happen.

How's that?

- Please...

I have a family
to support, eh?

A family who I hope to come

and live with me here
in England.

- So what are you saying?

- I'm saying I don't know
this Jacob Sternwood.

I'm saying when I'm given
a new job with more money,

I don't argue.

- What?
- This may be nothing.

All the informants, all of them,

called within the space
of half an hour of each other

saying exactly the same thing.

- What thing?

- That they've all heard
that Ruan Sternwood

is apparently staying
at the Greigo Mar hotel,

room 1308.

- Money's not here.

- Keep looking.

- Fuck you, Bartnick.

What do you think I'm doing?

- Bartnick!

_ Harvey, go!

Get out of there!

. Okay-

- Hold my hand!

- Can't see!
Where are you?

Sternwood!

Fuck!

Sternwood!

Fuck

Oh, fuck.

- Yeah, thank you.

- If you just want
to sign there.

- Right. Whereabouts?

Here?

There you go.
- That's all done.

Nice one, mate.
- Thanks.

[car door shuts]

[engine turns over]

- Hi.

- Um...

- Sarah.

- Lu-um...

- Luke.
- Yep.

- Luke, um...

I'm in a lot of trouble,

and I was wondering
if you could help me.

- Yeah, yeah, what is it?

- Well, my company's
lost this container,

and I was wondering
if you could help me find it.

- Yeah.

Then, um...

I'm your logistician.

Well, I was-
I was hoping you'd say that.

- Um, what's the name
of the company?

- S.C.l. Haulage.

- Right.

Yeah, if you wanted, we could,

um, find it together.

I don't know if you know,

but this is actually one

of the largest container yards
in Europe...

Max knows I'm here.

Don't do this.

- This is Sarah Hawks,
leave a message.

- Sarah, it's Max, call me.

- Have you ever heard
of someone called Bartnick?

' Who?

- Bartnick?

- Nope.

- These two guys, you know,

they scoped the room.

The way they fired their guns,

ifs like they were trained,
you know?

It...

It was all too practiced.

- Hey, honey.

- Give me the keys.
I want to open up.

- Kids go off to school okay?

- Yeah, fine.
- Hey, Karen.

- Fuck you, Jake.

Roy, do you know what?

I don't want this shit
in my life again.

Do you understand me?

- If it was one of ours,
we'd do the same.

- If it was one of ours,

this never would have happened
in the first place.

I'm just hoping
that this dead policeman

hasn't got anything
to do with you.

- This government expects
brave officers like Harvey Crown

to go into battle armed
with only a whistle and a baton.

- That guy's
not dead two minutes, Jane.

Already you're going to use
that for your campaign?

- This is for your benefit, Max.

When he's home secretary,
you're going to get

the proper tools
you need to do your job,

and half the people in this city

won't be shit-scared
just to walk down the street.

Of all people, I thought
you'd have believed in that.

- Jane,
I'm paid to catch crooks,

not get them elected.

Thom.

I've got to talk to you.

I can't understand

why an officer
from clubs and vice

was found dead
in Ruan's hotel room

with a gun in his hand.

- Yeah, I can't understand
what you were doing there.

I told you the hospital
was yours and nothing else.

- I had information.
I acted on it.

- Well, so did Harvey Crown.

Maybe he was checking out a lead
and needed protection.

- If it was
just a routine check,

if it was
just a couple of good old boys

doing their duty,
that's fine.

But why two officers
from separate divisions

twinning it?

Why did one of them run?

- What do you mean
two officers?

- Found it at the hotel.

Nathan's.

- Did you know about it, Thom?

- Of course I didn't.

I've got the press
jumping all over me.

I'm trying to run this division.

I don't need this shit as well,
do I?

- Jacob Sternwood was there too.

- Have you got evidence?

- He was there.

- Well, that's not good enough.

You better
get your facts straight.

I'll look into Nathan and Crown,

and you focus on Sternwood,
okay?

And you get back to me.

- Yeah.

- Max.

It's good to have you back.

- Kincade Security Solutions,

founded in Switzerland, 1942,
by a devout Christian.

Get this: he used to inscribe
biblical verse

on the side of their weapons.

Recently experienced
a fall in share prices,

which they put down to,
and I quote,

"Uncertainty
over U.S. foreign policy

"and poor visibility

on contracts
from the U.K. Government."

- All right.
What about Warns?

- No record
he's ever worked for them

as a military contractor.

- Then you've got to find
a connection with Sternwood.

- I've tried.
There isn't one.

- Try harder.

Has Warns traveled to Iceland
in the last 12 months?

Were any of the weapons

that Sternwood used
in the past Kincade?

Come on.

Oh, and where the fuck is Sarah?

Find her, all right?
Tell her to call me.

Tell her
if she's still pissed off,

I've got something
that will cheer her up.

- Oh, sir.
- What?

- Otis Blake,
arrested a year ago

for a minor drug offense.

Arresting officer:

Harvey Crown.

- Well done.

- Nathan Bartnick.

- My son got involved

with something
he didn't understand.

And he paid the price.

He's got a good heart,

unlike ours.

- You killed Crown.

- You shot my son.

- No.

But I know who did.

Look, maybe
we should meet tonight,

talk this through.

I know a place.

- Where?

- A club.

- You all right, mate?
We're closed.

- Yeah...
yeah.

Did you get my message?

Yeah, that's the second time.

That's the second time this week

you sent me to fix a machine
when it's not broken.

Yeah, so what's...

I don't give a fuck
what kind of...

It's fine, man.
It's fine.

It's balls-up at the office.

I don't give a fuck
what you said.

Just tell him
he's a fucking moron.

- This is Sarah Hawks.

Leave a message.

- Relaxing at a murder scene?

- Fuck.

- That's commitment
to the cause, isn't it?

- How did you know I was here?

- I know everything.

- Don't doubt it.

- Night shift
reported you here.

- I was looking for Sarah.

- What?

Lovers' tiff?

- You could say that.

- Do you want to know
the real reason

they first asked you
to head up the Sternwood case?

- Not fucking really.

I don't know.
My good looks? My charm?

- We hadn't been
able to get

anywhere near Sternwood
for years.

Our incompetence could be
passed off as your inexperience.

- You were so fresh, Max.

I knew you could take a couple
of knocks and keep on running.

You worked harder than any man
that came before you.

I mean, Christ, you nearly
caught him single-handedly.

- And you still had to
fight them to take me back.

I never thanked you for that.

- So when you take him down
this time,

you take him down hard,
okay?

And I'll make sure
the whole world is watching.

'III

I did something,
something I'm not proud of,

so you better be right
on this, Max.

I tapped Nathan's line.

Someone called him
about the Greigo Mar.

Nathan was-
Well, he was guarded.

He was paranoid.

He couldn't wait to get
off the phone quick enough.

They're meeting tonight.

They're meeting here.

I want you to go
and check it out.

Keep it contained, yeah?

- Yeah.

- Call me
when ifs through, yeah?

- Yeah.

- Sign here please, sir.

- You fucking owe me for this.

- I'd say this makes us
fair and square.

The first one's in.

Gun's ready to fire.

Fuck!

- You take Sternwood.
He's unarmed.

I'll deal with Lewinsky.

- Jake?

- Agh!

Ag h!

- Move!

Go!

Now take me to my son.

- I've been trying
to call you, Max.

I'm glad you turned up.
- Pete, we'll talk later, yeah?

- Yeah, right.

- I'm taking this man
to see his son.

Can you give us two minutes?
Could you?

- What's this?

Get out.

Get out.

- What the fuck?

- Call for backup!
Go!

- Deal with him,
or I fucking will.

- Just give me one minute.

Walk away, Juka.

You have to trust me.

This isn't what it looks like.

Just turn around.

Please, Juka,
you're gonna get hurt.

Just walk away.

- We found her body.

We found her body in your bed.

- Juka, you armed?

- Who killed my son?

Was it the police that came
to the hotel looking for money?

The ones in the club?
Huh?

What about that girl?

- Who was she?
Was she involved?

- Why didn't you just kill me
that night?

Why didn't you just kill me
in that tunnel?

- For what?

Your son and Otis Blake
were killed

by an ex-soldier
called Dean Warns.

That's the guy
that focused on me

at the club tonight.

He was working
with Nathan Bartnick,

Harvey Crown,
and possibly...

possibly Lieutenant Commander
Thomas Geiger.

That girl...

Sarah, had written something
on her hand:

Punch 1-1-9.

Now, Dean Warns
was seen at the container yard

with Otis Blake
the night of his murder.

That place is separated
into three different docks:

Turk, Acorn,
and the Punch.

And that's what I know.

- 1-1-9
are container coordinates.

We used to bring diesel in
off the ships.

- We'll end this tonight.

And when it's over,
you'll go to prison,

and I'll be the one
that puts you there.

' Nan?

I got your message.
You all right?

What, you feel ill?

- Look who's here.

It's your old mates
from the second battalion.

- All right, mate?

It's good to see you.

- There's fresh tea in the pot.

- Your old Nan
was just telling us

how you make big money working

for some
private military contractor.

- Kincade.
- Yeah, that's it.

Says they pay you straight
into some European bank account

so you don't pay no tax.

- No tax.
- That's amazing, mate.

What sort of thing
they have you do?

- Oh, ifs, um...

pretty cloak-and-dagger.

- Yeah?

- So when'd you turn up?
- Oh, not long ago, darling.

They told me not to tell you,

said you'd get a kick out of it.

- Yeah, I wish you had, Nan.

I'm busy tonight.

- Come on, mate.

Come and sit down.

- Yeah, why not?

- What could be more important

than seeing your old squad,
darling?

- That's all right, Iris.

We know how busy Dean's
been keeping himself recently.

We were just telling
your old Nan

how we were the only ones
to stick up for you,

how we were the only ones
to speak up

and voice our disgust when they
forced early retirement.

- You were like a rock.

- Smuggling guns in the coffins
of dead soldiers.

- Yeah, you wouldn't be
involved in anything

as sordid as that,
would you?

- Let's hope it's all
behind us.

- How's your son?

I hear he's been getting himself
into a bit of stick.

- Yeah, unfortunately,
Ruan passed away recently.

- And that's why
we've come to see Dean.

Take him down to the Punch
for a few drinks.

See our old friend
Thomas Geiger.

- So how do we do this?

- Roy's feeling a bit rough.

- I get terrible migraines.

Feels like my head's
gonna explode.

- He's gonna stay here
and keep her company.

- You don't mind if I stay here
and relax, do you, Iris?

- Course I don't,
handsome man like you.

- Maybe they can watch
Calamity Jane.

- I can make us some more tea.

- No, no, no, Iris,
you just stay right there.

- Dean, what's going on?

- It's all right, Nan.

I'll tell you
why I'm a good soldier:

Because of selfless commitment.

Otis Blake,

Ruan Sternwood,

Harvey Crown, Sarah Hawks,

all necessary casualties,

all necessary fatalities
of this operation.

- Or maybe we're just murderers,
plain and simple.

- Well, that's where
you're wrong.

I'm a superior soldier.

- You're just
a hired fucking killer.

- I want to settle things.

When I close this down,

it'll be because I put

the operation
before my own needs.

Told you before,
I'm wise to you...

Max.

You think that keeping
her hostage as collateral's

gonna force me
into a corner.

But none of you have been
where I have,

seen what I've seen.

None of you have
that selfless commitment.

Not one of you possesses
what it takes...

to actually put a bullet

in the back
of that woman's head.

- It's gonna be all right, Nan!
Just close your eyes.

- Warns?

- I need you to meet me.

At the Punch
tonight at 12:00.

Kincade want me
to move them out.

Lewinsky's getting too close.

This could all explode
in our hands.

- No, I can't do it.
It's too risky for me.

- You meet me...

or I'll make sure all this lands
on your fucking head.

- Why do you need me
to come down?

- Just fucking do it!

- Oh, fuck.

How you doing?

I can't feel my legs, Jake.

- Really?

- Fuck off

- Oh, for fuck-

No, you fuck off.
Jesus.

- You gonna be all right
staying here?

- Yeah.

I'm sorry for this, man.

- No, no, no, you did good.

You did good.

No, I'm ...

I'm sorry about your boy.

- Yeah.

- Ladies and gentlemen,

the man who's going to lead
this party into government,

our friend, our leader,

Henry Callaghan.

- You're a very difficult woman
to track down all of a sudden.

- It's a very busy time for me.

- Warns wants
to meet me tonight.

At the Punch.

Who arranged this,
was it you?

Kincade?

Thought you had everything
you needed, you know,

all the headlines you require,
am I right?

Janey, you listening to me?

Your little project
came apart at the seams.

Max is an inch away
from piecing all this together,

and Sternwood
is still at large,

so you better pay attention.

- Campaign's going very well.

We're ahead in the polls,

if that's what
you're referring to, Thom.

- No, it's not what
I'm referring to.

Who arranged tonight?

- You've lost me,
I'm afraid.

- You fuckin' bitch!

People have died
because of this,

because of us.

I've lost men all because
of your fucking progress,

and you sit there in denial
like some fucking royalty.

You don't even have the class
to look me in the eye.

- Thom, listen.

I have to get this speech right
with Robert.

I think you did the right thing.

I hope this pans out
for you okay.

- Sorry to call you
on this number,

but Warns
can't be reached.

It seems
we've got a serious problem.

Ow!

You broke my fucking arm!

- Thom.

Thom.

You tell me
what the fuck this is.

- Don't make things
worse for yourself, Max, eh?

Now, you stop this now,
and we can settle it.

- You can't settle
the death of Sarah.

You can't settle
trying to set me up for murder.

- I am your commanding officer.

Right now you're wanted
for the murder of your partner,

so you're going to need
all the-

Ah!

- Those two boys...

came here on the night
of the 7th

to buy guns from him.

- He was
with Bartnick and Crown.

And one of the boys, Blake,
recognized Crown.

He'd been arrested by him
a year ago.

And that compromised the deal.

Blake died,

but Ruan got away
with a hold-all full of money.

You get your fucking hands
off me!

Bartnick and Crown
went to the hotel

looking for their money
and come across Sternwood,

and you suddenly get worried

that I'm gonna
piece things together.

You, Thom,

were meant to be my friend.

This can't just be about money.

Not for you.

- Policemen
weren't meant to die.

It was all gonna be simple.

It was gonna change things,

make things better for us.

Robert Wiseman, he got it.

Just one more gun scandal,

and his party
would win the next election.

- Jane Badham?

- She found Warns.

He shipped in the guns,

set up Otis and Ruan
as buyers.

I provided some manpower,
turned a blind eye, you know.

Then a new squad would come in,

arrest the two boys
with the guns.

Big public outcry,

Jane handles the PR.

And Wiseman
takes the next election.

- Kincade supplied Warns.

Kincade'd get
the multimillion-pound contract

to supply body armor,
training packages,

and guns to the police.

- Yeah.

- What do you get, Thom?

- On.

- What'd you get?

You get a healthy bank account?

Get fast-tracked
to the role of...

what?

Commissioner?

All for obedience
in the line of fucking duty.

- Fuck off!

You, more than anyone,

should get
what's happening here, Max.

I'm the one has to go
and see coppers' families

when they've been shot
and murdered in the street

'cause they haven't got
the proper armor!

What do you think's
gonna happen, Max, eh?

You think we're just gonna
walk out of here?

Kincade have got all
the bases covered, you know.

Yeah.

All this means too much to them.

And Warns, eh?

He's not
just some fucking amateur

you just walk all over.

You shouldn't have
brought him here, Max.

You shouldn't have
fucking brought him here.

- Get to the car.
I'll cover!

Ag h!

- Let me have your gun.

- Selfless commitment.

- Think what he did to you, Max.

Remember who helped you
come back, huh?

You owe me.

This is your chance, Max.

You bring him in.

You bring that fucker in.

- Enough!

- Agh!

- Clear!

- On me!

- I don't have visual.