Bluestone 42 (2013–…): Season 2, Episode 6 - Episode #2.6 - full transcript
The team survives a terrorist attack and an unexploded bomb but Nick berates Simon, whose gun has jammed again. In fact he has lost the firing pin and wrongly suspects that Rocket and Mac stole it. When they find it they fear he will accuse them of its theft so they put it in his cup of tea - which of course he drinks. Nick meanwhile goes after the bomber, whom he locates after having to eat a sheep's eyeball with the village elders. He is weary and turns to Mary for comfort but she reminds him of their sex ban after Bird has told her that Nick only loves one person, himself. The team then gets into the lorry for another job but hits an obstacle on the way...
- Do you fancy me or not?
- Of course I fancy you.
You're hot and you're tall, you look good
In uniform and you're Incredibly brave.
Wow. I fancy me now.
God, I wish they'd just fuck each other
and get It over with.
- Oh, Shit.
- Oh, shit.
Who puts a bare-wire loop trigger
Inside the plastic?
- Our bomber got someone.
- Oh, shit.
Low metal, same orange wire.
Oh, you have been busy, haven't you?
Yeah, it looks like
the same bomb-maker again.
I hate it when he leaves me presents.
I never get him anything.
Oh, he doesn't seem to mind, boss.
I reckon he just likes the attention.
I wish we could give him
a bit more attention.
Personal attention.
To the face.
And/or bollocks.
Whoa, whoa, hang about.
What the...?
- They've got Graham!
- Shit!
The road's not clear beyond the device.
- I've got him, boss!
- Hold! No clear threat to life.
- Warning shots, boss?
- A warning of what?
We can't actually shoot them
unless they shoot first.
- Those are the rules, boss.
- Yeah. Silly, Isn't It?
We're fighting this whole stupid war
on their terms.
Yeah. If I was in an Apache,
I'd hate to come up against that moped.
- Technically, this isn't a war, boss.
- No?
Soldiers. Bombs.
It does feel quite warry.
Still, we can't return fire
until we feel clearly endangered...
I know, Simon!
Shit! I mean, hooray!
Open fire!
Diamond 21, this is Bluestone 42! Contact!
- Bugger!
- Shots fired.
Sitrep to follow. Wait out.
Yep, don't use the big gun, Simon.
After all, it's not a war.
Ripped By mstoll
Diamond 21, this is Bluestone 42.
Request immediate fire support. Over.
Shit'. Simon, more incoming.
Second group of enemies from the west.
Rocket!
- Bird, get into cover.
- Yup.
Enemies close to you, heading west.
Roger that. Over.
Mortar support figures too, boss.
Mortar Team Frost, this is Bluestone 42.
Request HE 100 metres west of spot 25.
Boss! Boss, get here now!
IED right there!
Holy shit! You useless bastards need
to practise your fives and twenties!
Simon, I want even/one
as far away from this as possible!
- Mac!
- Bird, get Into cover!
I'm going to do a manual!
Roger that, boss. Everyone, get down!
I've got control of him!
Incoming!
Thanks, boss.
No problem.
- Here's your weapon back, boss. You OK?
- Yeah. No thanks to you.
I have to be my own
force protection now, do I?
Your SA80 jammed again!
It's the second time this week!
I clean it every day. Sorry, boss.
Well, "sorry" isn't going to help when I
get a sucking chest wound...to the head!
Is it?
Luckily there's no danger of that,
as this isn't a fucking war!
Mac! Rocket!
Rifles stripped and cleaned.
Rifles stripped and cleaned!
It wasnae our weapons
that didnae function.
Uh...panic over, everyone.
Weapons Intelligence ls here.
WISWO!
I've come about
your special bomb-making friend.
- You've got someone? Awesome.
- No, actually.
- We've had a bit of a setback.
- Oh.
We thought we had someone
from a partial print,
but he was just being paid
to stick the things In the ground.
- Ten-dollar Taliban.
- Shit.
Then we saw a device
with the orange wire here,
and Bluestone 44 found another here,
completely fucking our location profiling.
So, we've had to widen the search
to this area here.
We're referring to it as Area A.
- A stands for Afghanistan.
- Perfect.
So, what you're basically saying
ls we've got nothing.
Oh, less than nothing. Aren't we
a Dragon Runner down on the deal?
Could you not stop him?
Well, the boss did shout,
"Stop that, you rotter!"
but for some reason they just ignored him.
Right, talk me through this morning.
Well, basically, the, er...the main device
was designed to take ages...
...making it more likely that someone
would step on this little chap.
Hang about.
That's from an old VW Beetle.
- Really?
- You what?
The 721.
That is an ignition-switch assembly.
Towerblock, did you used to nick cars?
My dad used to have a Beetle. We used
to tune It up together every Sunday.
After I'd nicked some cars.
Right, well, I know
we've narrowed it down to Area A,
but, as this is our only link
to the bomber,
looks like we're going
to have to go with It.
Right, I'll get it to the lab.
Good work, Towerblock. Ah, we're going
to have to speak to the village elders.
See if they've seen a VW Beetle.
There's going to be a shura? Awesome.
Awesome? Aren't they just proper boring?
Yep, but I get the day off.
Can't do Afghan diplomacy
If you've got ovaries. Who knew?
Ooh, yes! Better, guys.
Better. Yes!
Where's my firing pin retaining pin?
It was here.
It...it was right here.
- Where is it, Mac?
- Dunno.
- Rocket?
- Is It lunch yet?
Where is it?!
Do you realise sabotaging a weapon
is a very serious offence?
- You must have dropped it on the floor.
- Right, well, start looking.
- Fingertip search.
- Aw, fuck off!
- Do it yourself!
- Now!
And whatever you do,
do not tell Nick that I've lost it.
Sh it.
Oh, Towerblock, erm...can you help look
for my firing pin retaining pin?
- Metal. About this big.
- Slightly bigger than his penis.
You know what you could do with?
Like, some bit of kit
that finds little bits of metal.
Hm. Hang about.
- Nick, you OK?
- Yeah, right as rain.
Yeah, I heard it was
a tough day at the office.
Yeah, if the office
was attacked by terrorists,
the photocopier was
stuffed full of explosives
- and the tea lady pulled an AK on me.
- Right.
Look, I just don't want you to feel like
you can't talk to me like you always have.
I mean, just because we've, er...you know,
slept together,
it doesn't mean that we can't chat.
Anyway, I hope you feel OK about all that.
Do you feel OK? You seem OK.
We'll just play it cool
and act [Ike It never happened.
Yeah?
- Nick?
- Er...yeah. Great, yeah.
Cool.
- OK, good.
- Great.
So...see you around.
Yeah .
Bye.
OK, guys, joke's over.
Give it back.
This lack of trust
is actually quite hurtful.
Aye. We didn't nick it.
Did we?
Here, Mac. Vallon this!
See If I've got lead In my pencil.
Fuck's sake!
Sabotaging a weapon is an AGAI offence.
When I prove that you have stolen it,
I will have you both court-martialled.
Do you understand?
- We didn't nick it, all right?
- Simon. Let's go get some lunch.
- Have a look with fresh eyes.
- Yeah, I don't want lunch.
Yeah, you do. Come on.
Sir.
Aaah, Khaleesi, loser of dragons.
What?
Just working my way
through Game Of Thrones.
No?
Anyway, don't worry about the robot.
just file it under expensive fuck-ups.
- Next to Iraq.
- Yes, sir.
But you weren't coming to see me
about that, were you?
Actually, we just wanted to have
a sit-down with the village elders,
talk about this bomber.
Probably some ex-Mujaheddin
veteran trained by the CIA.
Fought the Soviets and anyone else
who wandered uninvited Into his country.
Suppose I should respect him, really.
- Really?
- No! He's trying to kill me.
If I ever get my hands on him,
I'm going to punch him and punch him
until Simon mutters something about it
being "a little bit unprofessional".
Then I'd punch him again.
- Then I'm going to punch Simon.
- Right.
Well, this afternoon, Captain Softly
was going to talk to some elders
about a school we're knocking up.
Why don't you do that instead?
- See what you can find out.
- That'd be fantastic.
And no jokes about burqas, bombs,
al-Qaeda, guns, polygamy,
Russians, goats, dogs, cricket,
Pakistan, women's education,
Thursday nights, or hats.
Right, but the bin Laden material's fine,
though, yeah?
Oh, yes. That stuffs gold. Carly on.
Oh, there it is.
- Let's give it to him.
- No, no, no, no, no, no!
- Eh?
- He'll think we've nicked it.
He'll try and get us court-martialled.
But we can't let him go out
without a weapon.
And we won't.
We'll just let him find the pin himself.
- Ah!
- Mm-hm.
Genius.
But how's he going to find it there?
I could stand here pointing at it.
So...
Hi, Bird. Oh, yeah,
I never had chance to thank you.
- For?
- For...
you know, so that you-know-who
would lose interest.
Clearly has.
- And you're fine with that, are you?
- Oh, yeah. Totally fine. Oh!
Anyway, the point is,
he's moved on, no harm done.
So, that's...thank you.
No problem, Padre. I knew
If you fucked him, he'd lose Interest.
I... What? No, that...
that was...was just a wind-up.
- Oh, you don't really think that we...
- I don't think. I know.
Welcome to the Medhurst scrapheap.
I'm so weak. Why did I give in?
Curiosity?
Sexual frustration?
Boredom? Low self-esteem?
- Buzz in when you hear one you like.
- Thank you, Bird
- Ready?
- Aye.
Ah!
- You two all right?
- Aye.
OK, well, change of plan
for the afternoon.
1600. Meeting with the village elders.
We'll have the usual small talk.
Then we'll tell them we're building them
a new school. Aren't we generous?
And then we'll casually ask them
about the VW Beetle.
Are we gonna ask
about the robot an' all?
Nah, we'll get a new one.
Rocket, you're our food point man.
- Gleaming.
- Yeah.
I seem to remember their house speciality
is cartilage, so you'll be eating for two.
Right, we leave at 1500.
Okay-doke.
So, you're saying have a bit of lunch.
No, I...
I need a weapon for the shura.
Well, go to the CQ.
What, and get my name put on the board
as Twat of the Week?
Oh, and then Nick'll find out. I don't
want him to think that I'm Incompetent.
Yeah. Best hide that fact
for as long as possible.
- You want weapon?
- Oh!
Shh!
What I really need is
a firing pin retaining pin.
Ah, no, very tricky.
New weapon? $50.
New firing pin retaining pin?
Ooh. $1,000.
Well, I don't have 1,000...
Let's see the weapon.
Oh, yes, yes. yes. Brilliant.
Behold.
The AK-48.
Like an AK-47, but more so!
Yes, more gold!
Only 50.
- Bargain.
- I can't carry that!
I'm in the bloody Army!
If you carry this, you will look like
you are In a much better army!
You will look like the King of the Army!
I will look like a drug dealer.
Many of the people at this shura
will be drug dealers.
Well, poppy farmers.
- You will fit right in.
- Categorically not!
- I throw in gold bazooka.
- No!
He is happy to meet with you again.
They heard about the robot.
Hashtag...fail.
They know where it is.
- Really?
- We can't go and get It, Towerblock.
It'll be a come-on. Find out where it is,
though. Show some willing.
Then, um...then tell them
about the school.
Sure you don't want to try this kebab,
boss? It's delicious.
Um...sorry, Rocket,
I've got a personal rule.
Never take gastronomic advice
from a Scotsman.
They are very happy
that the British are concerned
for the education of their children.
Good. Now ask them about the Beetle.
Yes, I have.
But they don't want you to go away hungry.
They have reserved a special dish
for their most honoured guest.
Mm!
The eyeballs and testicles of the sheep.
Oh, dear.
Jesus. I wouldn't eat those.
He says food first,
then you can talk about the Beetle.
This is very nice.
So, um...about the Beetle?
Oh! They have not seen one.
Bird.
Ah, Doctor Who ?
No, don't mind me.
It's a good episode and you're probably
going to talk all over it...Ma'am.
No, I'm not.
Although I could do with
a TARDIS right now.
Go back in time and change a few things.
Can't do that. You'd create
a temporal paradox. Terrible Idea.
I only want to change one thing.
Even the smallest thing
can destroy your entire future.
That's what... Oh.
Oh.
Sony, Bird. I'm surly.
Oh! I'm just being silly.
- I can't talk to anyone else.
- I knew this day would come.
Full-on girlie chats, waterworks.
Bollocks.
I just... Argh!
- I blame myself.
- Yeah, I blame you as well.
Look, what do you want from Nick?
I want things to go back to before.
- Ur-urghh! No, you don't.
- Eh?
You want Nick to have
fallen In love with you.
- No, I don't.
- Pretty sure you do.
Nick Medhurst only loves one person.
Oh. Nick Medhurst.
Which is why nothing ever touches him.
He's all like, "Yeah, why not?
Could be fun." And it is fun, for him.
Right.
- Bird, do you think he'll ever change?
- No. Do you?
Y-yeah.
- Ur-urgh!
- But...
- Ur-urgh!
- ...maybe...
Ur-urgh!
Bird, you are terrible at girlie chats.
I try to be.
Right, come on, guys. Shout's on.
Ooh! Circle.
All right, boss. All done.
We've double-checked, cos I know
you've got a fan In the Taliban.
Ooh. Rhymed.
Just my luck. Now, off you fuck.
Oh,very good.
Oh.
- CQ give you a rifle then, Skip?
- Yes.
Did he make you Twat of the Week?
- No.
- How come? You pay him off?
Well, you remember the home-made fudge
that Charlotte used to send me?
Fudge.
It's not funny.
We were together for 14 years.
And for how many of those years
did she give you fudge?
He's charging me one box every six hours.
If I don't pay,
I'm on the Twat of the Week board.
- Is he allowed to do that?
- He can do what he wants.
He's toying with me.
I've only got four boxes left.
Hee-hee-hee! Toying with your fudge.
Ha-ha-ha!
So, here's a thing.
This device was made
by my bezza In the Taliban.
Your Talibezza.
That's...Graham's track.
Used to make the pressure plate.
Low metal.
Cheeky bastard's
cannibalising the robot for parts.
God, it's like a hostage situation where
they send you the fingers of a loved one.
- So, if the bomber's got the robot...
- What say we go ring his doorbell?
But, instead of running off, blow down
the door, pile in and see who he is.
- Fucking come on!
- And then kick the shit out of him.
That would be unprofessional.
Boss, you're not going to do
anything stupid, are you?
It's a bit late for that, Bird. I came
here to pull bombs out of the ground.
But the only reason the bombs
are in the ground in the first place
is cos I came here.
It's all pretty fucking stupid.
- Ooh, fudge!
- No!
- Ah!
- It's my last box and It's for the CQMS.
- I need that gun for the overnight raid.
- Skip?
Just be Twat of the Week.
It's only a week.
Even/one thinks
you're a twat anyway, so...
This operation could get really kinetic.
- Properly...kinetic.
- Fucking hope so.
I just...I don't want Nick
thinking that I can't protect him.
Just doesn't...
Maybe you'll find
your retaining pin, Skip.
- Drink your tea.
- Aye.
Things are always
In the last place you look.
Nah, it's...it's gone.
Never mind, eh? Drink your tea.
I'm just sorry that
I thought It was you two.
Because you are better than that.
Aye. Drink your tea.
What the fuck was that?
Aah! What did I just swallow?
- Firing pin retaining pin, Skip.
- What?
- So, you did fucking nick it!
- No, we never.
- So, what was that?
- We found it.
Bollocks.
- Why didn't you just give it to me?
- Cos you don't trust us.
If we just handed it over,
you'd say we'd stolen It.
No, I wouldn't.
But we just did hand it over and
you did say we'd stolen It. Case closed.
Aha!
Right. I'm organising a trip
to a quiet place In the country.
Which we're going to slightly blow up.
We go in at 0300,
so total radio silence at 0230.
This gives us the added advantage
that we won't be able to hear
any of Sergeant Hogg's shit jokes.
So, let's get them all out the way now.
Ladies and gentleman and engineers,
Search Team Leader Sergeant Hogg.
Whoo!
So, here's the compound we're looking at.
Entrances here and here.
There's a mine in the doorway,
so that's out.
This wall looks good,
but I want to clear along the top first.
- Medic!
- Go, go, go, go!
Shit!
- Clear!
- Right, nobody touch a fucking thing!
- Simon, get the search team.
- Boss.
We need a full fingertip search.
Everything could be booby-trapped.
- Yeah, this is him.
- Not necessarily, boss.
I mean, how much orange wire
is there in the world?
No, I know it.
Boss, it might not be him.
This is him, all right.
He's been doing this for years.
We're secure.
- How's Hogg?
- Fucked.
On a chopper.
Still breathing. Losing blood.
Shit. Shit!
When I get my fucking hands
on this guy, I'm going to...
Boss.
He was trying to run away.
This is him?
Puck's sake.
What am I going to do now? Find out who
his favourite member of One Direction is?
- How old is he?
- 17. So?
You made all of these?
just take him away.
- So, you got him, then?
- Yeah.
I thought there-'d be this big moment,
you know, when we're face to face
and I'd say...
I dunno. Or I'd hit him or something.
I sound like a dick.
And how do you feel now?
Honestly? Um...
I feel nothing. just...nothing.
Just...empty.
Is there anything I can do for you?
No, we can't.
Just thought it might be fun.
Who for?
I dunno.
OK.
Good meeting, everyone.
You been Valloning your own shit again,
Corporal?
Yes.
- Do you find your retaining pin?
- No.
Did you do a fingertip search as well?
Yes.
I've got two hours before the fudge
runs out and I'm Twat of the Week.
Well, next time,
you'll know to trust your men.
No, cos next time Mac will nick it.
Aye. I probably will.
- It'll turn up eventually.
- Well, let's hope so,
because there is a limit to how much
of my own shit I will search through.
Out of interest, Simon,
how much shit is that?
Actually, I'd rather not know.
But I am keen to discover the rationale
behind your faecal trawlings.
Sir, through a series
of...unfortunate events,
I swallowed my firing pin retaining pin.
Oh, dear.
Those things are like hen's teeth.
Nick, Simon swallowed
his firing pin retaining pin.
- No...
- Been going through his shit,
to try and recover it. Resourceful.
You should have said so.
I always carry a spare.
Right.
Anyway, just wanted to congratulate you
on the raid. A great success.
And we've heard that
Sergeant Hogg has stabilised.
Poor chap's lost the eye,
but otherwise doing OK.
Thank God for that.
- Guys, we've won a competition.
- Have we?!
Yeah, we won a trip to see a suspected IED
in Yellow 1A. Whoo!
Well, carry on.
Lost an eye.
Poor fucker.
But on the plus side,
half-price sunglasses.
And the Annual Wedge fancy-dress ball,
he can always come as a pirate.
Maybe he could get a bionic eye,
see through walls.
Oh, that'd be fucking mint!
Still, he's got his crown jewels.
What more does he want?
I know it's your dream to have
more balls than eyes, Mac,
but maybe Sergeant Hogg...
Bluestone 42?
Bluestone 42?
Bluestone 42, respond.
Bluestone 42, nothing heard, answer me.
Charlie Charlie One, this is Zero Alpha.
Two One Alpha, Two Two Alpha,
establish point of co-ordinates...
Ripped By mstoll
- Of course I fancy you.
You're hot and you're tall, you look good
In uniform and you're Incredibly brave.
Wow. I fancy me now.
God, I wish they'd just fuck each other
and get It over with.
- Oh, Shit.
- Oh, shit.
Who puts a bare-wire loop trigger
Inside the plastic?
- Our bomber got someone.
- Oh, shit.
Low metal, same orange wire.
Oh, you have been busy, haven't you?
Yeah, it looks like
the same bomb-maker again.
I hate it when he leaves me presents.
I never get him anything.
Oh, he doesn't seem to mind, boss.
I reckon he just likes the attention.
I wish we could give him
a bit more attention.
Personal attention.
To the face.
And/or bollocks.
Whoa, whoa, hang about.
What the...?
- They've got Graham!
- Shit!
The road's not clear beyond the device.
- I've got him, boss!
- Hold! No clear threat to life.
- Warning shots, boss?
- A warning of what?
We can't actually shoot them
unless they shoot first.
- Those are the rules, boss.
- Yeah. Silly, Isn't It?
We're fighting this whole stupid war
on their terms.
Yeah. If I was in an Apache,
I'd hate to come up against that moped.
- Technically, this isn't a war, boss.
- No?
Soldiers. Bombs.
It does feel quite warry.
Still, we can't return fire
until we feel clearly endangered...
I know, Simon!
Shit! I mean, hooray!
Open fire!
Diamond 21, this is Bluestone 42! Contact!
- Bugger!
- Shots fired.
Sitrep to follow. Wait out.
Yep, don't use the big gun, Simon.
After all, it's not a war.
Ripped By mstoll
Diamond 21, this is Bluestone 42.
Request immediate fire support. Over.
Shit'. Simon, more incoming.
Second group of enemies from the west.
Rocket!
- Bird, get into cover.
- Yup.
Enemies close to you, heading west.
Roger that. Over.
Mortar support figures too, boss.
Mortar Team Frost, this is Bluestone 42.
Request HE 100 metres west of spot 25.
Boss! Boss, get here now!
IED right there!
Holy shit! You useless bastards need
to practise your fives and twenties!
Simon, I want even/one
as far away from this as possible!
- Mac!
- Bird, get Into cover!
I'm going to do a manual!
Roger that, boss. Everyone, get down!
I've got control of him!
Incoming!
Thanks, boss.
No problem.
- Here's your weapon back, boss. You OK?
- Yeah. No thanks to you.
I have to be my own
force protection now, do I?
Your SA80 jammed again!
It's the second time this week!
I clean it every day. Sorry, boss.
Well, "sorry" isn't going to help when I
get a sucking chest wound...to the head!
Is it?
Luckily there's no danger of that,
as this isn't a fucking war!
Mac! Rocket!
Rifles stripped and cleaned.
Rifles stripped and cleaned!
It wasnae our weapons
that didnae function.
Uh...panic over, everyone.
Weapons Intelligence ls here.
WISWO!
I've come about
your special bomb-making friend.
- You've got someone? Awesome.
- No, actually.
- We've had a bit of a setback.
- Oh.
We thought we had someone
from a partial print,
but he was just being paid
to stick the things In the ground.
- Ten-dollar Taliban.
- Shit.
Then we saw a device
with the orange wire here,
and Bluestone 44 found another here,
completely fucking our location profiling.
So, we've had to widen the search
to this area here.
We're referring to it as Area A.
- A stands for Afghanistan.
- Perfect.
So, what you're basically saying
ls we've got nothing.
Oh, less than nothing. Aren't we
a Dragon Runner down on the deal?
Could you not stop him?
Well, the boss did shout,
"Stop that, you rotter!"
but for some reason they just ignored him.
Right, talk me through this morning.
Well, basically, the, er...the main device
was designed to take ages...
...making it more likely that someone
would step on this little chap.
Hang about.
That's from an old VW Beetle.
- Really?
- You what?
The 721.
That is an ignition-switch assembly.
Towerblock, did you used to nick cars?
My dad used to have a Beetle. We used
to tune It up together every Sunday.
After I'd nicked some cars.
Right, well, I know
we've narrowed it down to Area A,
but, as this is our only link
to the bomber,
looks like we're going
to have to go with It.
Right, I'll get it to the lab.
Good work, Towerblock. Ah, we're going
to have to speak to the village elders.
See if they've seen a VW Beetle.
There's going to be a shura? Awesome.
Awesome? Aren't they just proper boring?
Yep, but I get the day off.
Can't do Afghan diplomacy
If you've got ovaries. Who knew?
Ooh, yes! Better, guys.
Better. Yes!
Where's my firing pin retaining pin?
It was here.
It...it was right here.
- Where is it, Mac?
- Dunno.
- Rocket?
- Is It lunch yet?
Where is it?!
Do you realise sabotaging a weapon
is a very serious offence?
- You must have dropped it on the floor.
- Right, well, start looking.
- Fingertip search.
- Aw, fuck off!
- Do it yourself!
- Now!
And whatever you do,
do not tell Nick that I've lost it.
Sh it.
Oh, Towerblock, erm...can you help look
for my firing pin retaining pin?
- Metal. About this big.
- Slightly bigger than his penis.
You know what you could do with?
Like, some bit of kit
that finds little bits of metal.
Hm. Hang about.
- Nick, you OK?
- Yeah, right as rain.
Yeah, I heard it was
a tough day at the office.
Yeah, if the office
was attacked by terrorists,
the photocopier was
stuffed full of explosives
- and the tea lady pulled an AK on me.
- Right.
Look, I just don't want you to feel like
you can't talk to me like you always have.
I mean, just because we've, er...you know,
slept together,
it doesn't mean that we can't chat.
Anyway, I hope you feel OK about all that.
Do you feel OK? You seem OK.
We'll just play it cool
and act [Ike It never happened.
Yeah?
- Nick?
- Er...yeah. Great, yeah.
Cool.
- OK, good.
- Great.
So...see you around.
Yeah .
Bye.
OK, guys, joke's over.
Give it back.
This lack of trust
is actually quite hurtful.
Aye. We didn't nick it.
Did we?
Here, Mac. Vallon this!
See If I've got lead In my pencil.
Fuck's sake!
Sabotaging a weapon is an AGAI offence.
When I prove that you have stolen it,
I will have you both court-martialled.
Do you understand?
- We didn't nick it, all right?
- Simon. Let's go get some lunch.
- Have a look with fresh eyes.
- Yeah, I don't want lunch.
Yeah, you do. Come on.
Sir.
Aaah, Khaleesi, loser of dragons.
What?
Just working my way
through Game Of Thrones.
No?
Anyway, don't worry about the robot.
just file it under expensive fuck-ups.
- Next to Iraq.
- Yes, sir.
But you weren't coming to see me
about that, were you?
Actually, we just wanted to have
a sit-down with the village elders,
talk about this bomber.
Probably some ex-Mujaheddin
veteran trained by the CIA.
Fought the Soviets and anyone else
who wandered uninvited Into his country.
Suppose I should respect him, really.
- Really?
- No! He's trying to kill me.
If I ever get my hands on him,
I'm going to punch him and punch him
until Simon mutters something about it
being "a little bit unprofessional".
Then I'd punch him again.
- Then I'm going to punch Simon.
- Right.
Well, this afternoon, Captain Softly
was going to talk to some elders
about a school we're knocking up.
Why don't you do that instead?
- See what you can find out.
- That'd be fantastic.
And no jokes about burqas, bombs,
al-Qaeda, guns, polygamy,
Russians, goats, dogs, cricket,
Pakistan, women's education,
Thursday nights, or hats.
Right, but the bin Laden material's fine,
though, yeah?
Oh, yes. That stuffs gold. Carly on.
Oh, there it is.
- Let's give it to him.
- No, no, no, no, no, no!
- Eh?
- He'll think we've nicked it.
He'll try and get us court-martialled.
But we can't let him go out
without a weapon.
And we won't.
We'll just let him find the pin himself.
- Ah!
- Mm-hm.
Genius.
But how's he going to find it there?
I could stand here pointing at it.
So...
Hi, Bird. Oh, yeah,
I never had chance to thank you.
- For?
- For...
you know, so that you-know-who
would lose interest.
Clearly has.
- And you're fine with that, are you?
- Oh, yeah. Totally fine. Oh!
Anyway, the point is,
he's moved on, no harm done.
So, that's...thank you.
No problem, Padre. I knew
If you fucked him, he'd lose Interest.
I... What? No, that...
that was...was just a wind-up.
- Oh, you don't really think that we...
- I don't think. I know.
Welcome to the Medhurst scrapheap.
I'm so weak. Why did I give in?
Curiosity?
Sexual frustration?
Boredom? Low self-esteem?
- Buzz in when you hear one you like.
- Thank you, Bird
- Ready?
- Aye.
Ah!
- You two all right?
- Aye.
OK, well, change of plan
for the afternoon.
1600. Meeting with the village elders.
We'll have the usual small talk.
Then we'll tell them we're building them
a new school. Aren't we generous?
And then we'll casually ask them
about the VW Beetle.
Are we gonna ask
about the robot an' all?
Nah, we'll get a new one.
Rocket, you're our food point man.
- Gleaming.
- Yeah.
I seem to remember their house speciality
is cartilage, so you'll be eating for two.
Right, we leave at 1500.
Okay-doke.
So, you're saying have a bit of lunch.
No, I...
I need a weapon for the shura.
Well, go to the CQ.
What, and get my name put on the board
as Twat of the Week?
Oh, and then Nick'll find out. I don't
want him to think that I'm Incompetent.
Yeah. Best hide that fact
for as long as possible.
- You want weapon?
- Oh!
Shh!
What I really need is
a firing pin retaining pin.
Ah, no, very tricky.
New weapon? $50.
New firing pin retaining pin?
Ooh. $1,000.
Well, I don't have 1,000...
Let's see the weapon.
Oh, yes, yes. yes. Brilliant.
Behold.
The AK-48.
Like an AK-47, but more so!
Yes, more gold!
Only 50.
- Bargain.
- I can't carry that!
I'm in the bloody Army!
If you carry this, you will look like
you are In a much better army!
You will look like the King of the Army!
I will look like a drug dealer.
Many of the people at this shura
will be drug dealers.
Well, poppy farmers.
- You will fit right in.
- Categorically not!
- I throw in gold bazooka.
- No!
He is happy to meet with you again.
They heard about the robot.
Hashtag...fail.
They know where it is.
- Really?
- We can't go and get It, Towerblock.
It'll be a come-on. Find out where it is,
though. Show some willing.
Then, um...then tell them
about the school.
Sure you don't want to try this kebab,
boss? It's delicious.
Um...sorry, Rocket,
I've got a personal rule.
Never take gastronomic advice
from a Scotsman.
They are very happy
that the British are concerned
for the education of their children.
Good. Now ask them about the Beetle.
Yes, I have.
But they don't want you to go away hungry.
They have reserved a special dish
for their most honoured guest.
Mm!
The eyeballs and testicles of the sheep.
Oh, dear.
Jesus. I wouldn't eat those.
He says food first,
then you can talk about the Beetle.
This is very nice.
So, um...about the Beetle?
Oh! They have not seen one.
Bird.
Ah, Doctor Who ?
No, don't mind me.
It's a good episode and you're probably
going to talk all over it...Ma'am.
No, I'm not.
Although I could do with
a TARDIS right now.
Go back in time and change a few things.
Can't do that. You'd create
a temporal paradox. Terrible Idea.
I only want to change one thing.
Even the smallest thing
can destroy your entire future.
That's what... Oh.
Oh.
Sony, Bird. I'm surly.
Oh! I'm just being silly.
- I can't talk to anyone else.
- I knew this day would come.
Full-on girlie chats, waterworks.
Bollocks.
I just... Argh!
- I blame myself.
- Yeah, I blame you as well.
Look, what do you want from Nick?
I want things to go back to before.
- Ur-urghh! No, you don't.
- Eh?
You want Nick to have
fallen In love with you.
- No, I don't.
- Pretty sure you do.
Nick Medhurst only loves one person.
Oh. Nick Medhurst.
Which is why nothing ever touches him.
He's all like, "Yeah, why not?
Could be fun." And it is fun, for him.
Right.
- Bird, do you think he'll ever change?
- No. Do you?
Y-yeah.
- Ur-urgh!
- But...
- Ur-urgh!
- ...maybe...
Ur-urgh!
Bird, you are terrible at girlie chats.
I try to be.
Right, come on, guys. Shout's on.
Ooh! Circle.
All right, boss. All done.
We've double-checked, cos I know
you've got a fan In the Taliban.
Ooh. Rhymed.
Just my luck. Now, off you fuck.
Oh,very good.
Oh.
- CQ give you a rifle then, Skip?
- Yes.
Did he make you Twat of the Week?
- No.
- How come? You pay him off?
Well, you remember the home-made fudge
that Charlotte used to send me?
Fudge.
It's not funny.
We were together for 14 years.
And for how many of those years
did she give you fudge?
He's charging me one box every six hours.
If I don't pay,
I'm on the Twat of the Week board.
- Is he allowed to do that?
- He can do what he wants.
He's toying with me.
I've only got four boxes left.
Hee-hee-hee! Toying with your fudge.
Ha-ha-ha!
So, here's a thing.
This device was made
by my bezza In the Taliban.
Your Talibezza.
That's...Graham's track.
Used to make the pressure plate.
Low metal.
Cheeky bastard's
cannibalising the robot for parts.
God, it's like a hostage situation where
they send you the fingers of a loved one.
- So, if the bomber's got the robot...
- What say we go ring his doorbell?
But, instead of running off, blow down
the door, pile in and see who he is.
- Fucking come on!
- And then kick the shit out of him.
That would be unprofessional.
Boss, you're not going to do
anything stupid, are you?
It's a bit late for that, Bird. I came
here to pull bombs out of the ground.
But the only reason the bombs
are in the ground in the first place
is cos I came here.
It's all pretty fucking stupid.
- Ooh, fudge!
- No!
- Ah!
- It's my last box and It's for the CQMS.
- I need that gun for the overnight raid.
- Skip?
Just be Twat of the Week.
It's only a week.
Even/one thinks
you're a twat anyway, so...
This operation could get really kinetic.
- Properly...kinetic.
- Fucking hope so.
I just...I don't want Nick
thinking that I can't protect him.
Just doesn't...
Maybe you'll find
your retaining pin, Skip.
- Drink your tea.
- Aye.
Things are always
In the last place you look.
Nah, it's...it's gone.
Never mind, eh? Drink your tea.
I'm just sorry that
I thought It was you two.
Because you are better than that.
Aye. Drink your tea.
What the fuck was that?
Aah! What did I just swallow?
- Firing pin retaining pin, Skip.
- What?
- So, you did fucking nick it!
- No, we never.
- So, what was that?
- We found it.
Bollocks.
- Why didn't you just give it to me?
- Cos you don't trust us.
If we just handed it over,
you'd say we'd stolen It.
No, I wouldn't.
But we just did hand it over and
you did say we'd stolen It. Case closed.
Aha!
Right. I'm organising a trip
to a quiet place In the country.
Which we're going to slightly blow up.
We go in at 0300,
so total radio silence at 0230.
This gives us the added advantage
that we won't be able to hear
any of Sergeant Hogg's shit jokes.
So, let's get them all out the way now.
Ladies and gentleman and engineers,
Search Team Leader Sergeant Hogg.
Whoo!
So, here's the compound we're looking at.
Entrances here and here.
There's a mine in the doorway,
so that's out.
This wall looks good,
but I want to clear along the top first.
- Medic!
- Go, go, go, go!
Shit!
- Clear!
- Right, nobody touch a fucking thing!
- Simon, get the search team.
- Boss.
We need a full fingertip search.
Everything could be booby-trapped.
- Yeah, this is him.
- Not necessarily, boss.
I mean, how much orange wire
is there in the world?
No, I know it.
Boss, it might not be him.
This is him, all right.
He's been doing this for years.
We're secure.
- How's Hogg?
- Fucked.
On a chopper.
Still breathing. Losing blood.
Shit. Shit!
When I get my fucking hands
on this guy, I'm going to...
Boss.
He was trying to run away.
This is him?
Puck's sake.
What am I going to do now? Find out who
his favourite member of One Direction is?
- How old is he?
- 17. So?
You made all of these?
just take him away.
- So, you got him, then?
- Yeah.
I thought there-'d be this big moment,
you know, when we're face to face
and I'd say...
I dunno. Or I'd hit him or something.
I sound like a dick.
And how do you feel now?
Honestly? Um...
I feel nothing. just...nothing.
Just...empty.
Is there anything I can do for you?
No, we can't.
Just thought it might be fun.
Who for?
I dunno.
OK.
Good meeting, everyone.
You been Valloning your own shit again,
Corporal?
Yes.
- Do you find your retaining pin?
- No.
Did you do a fingertip search as well?
Yes.
I've got two hours before the fudge
runs out and I'm Twat of the Week.
Well, next time,
you'll know to trust your men.
No, cos next time Mac will nick it.
Aye. I probably will.
- It'll turn up eventually.
- Well, let's hope so,
because there is a limit to how much
of my own shit I will search through.
Out of interest, Simon,
how much shit is that?
Actually, I'd rather not know.
But I am keen to discover the rationale
behind your faecal trawlings.
Sir, through a series
of...unfortunate events,
I swallowed my firing pin retaining pin.
Oh, dear.
Those things are like hen's teeth.
Nick, Simon swallowed
his firing pin retaining pin.
- No...
- Been going through his shit,
to try and recover it. Resourceful.
You should have said so.
I always carry a spare.
Right.
Anyway, just wanted to congratulate you
on the raid. A great success.
And we've heard that
Sergeant Hogg has stabilised.
Poor chap's lost the eye,
but otherwise doing OK.
Thank God for that.
- Guys, we've won a competition.
- Have we?!
Yeah, we won a trip to see a suspected IED
in Yellow 1A. Whoo!
Well, carry on.
Lost an eye.
Poor fucker.
But on the plus side,
half-price sunglasses.
And the Annual Wedge fancy-dress ball,
he can always come as a pirate.
Maybe he could get a bionic eye,
see through walls.
Oh, that'd be fucking mint!
Still, he's got his crown jewels.
What more does he want?
I know it's your dream to have
more balls than eyes, Mac,
but maybe Sergeant Hogg...
Bluestone 42?
Bluestone 42?
Bluestone 42, respond.
Bluestone 42, nothing heard, answer me.
Charlie Charlie One, this is Zero Alpha.
Two One Alpha, Two Two Alpha,
establish point of co-ordinates...
Ripped By mstoll