Life on Mars (2006–2007): Season 1, Episode 6 - Episode #1.6 - full transcript

God have mercy.

Chris.

Five more minutes, dad.

And they call us
the thin blue line.

Sam? Darling?

Mum.

I've let you down.

I know you can't hear me, but...

it doesn't make this any easier.

I can hear you, Mum.

They showed me
this scan of your brain.



They look for these...
patches of colour,

and there's nothing, Sam.

For God's sake,
Mum, get better doctors.

Negligible brain activity.
That's what they call it.

Get better doctors,
get better scanners!

You're breathing,
but it's an illusion of life.

I know you've already gone
somewhere else now.

Oh god. Don't say it.

I've given my consent
to turn off your... to turn it off.

Mum, no! No!

It'll be this afternoon.

Two o'clock.

Sleep tight, darling.

I'll put this back on
for you anyway, shall I?



I'm alive!

Hello boss.
I feel as rough as a dog's arse.

You bastards!

Hey, no, I wanted to invite you,
but Ray said you'd just spoil it.

You wanna see patches of colour?

Boss, we just had
a call downstairs.

You lot never stop
playing the merry fools?

- We've got a crisis brewing.
- Get out, Phyllis.

Some loony's taken hostages
at the Manchester Gazette.

Reports are that he's armed
and very dangerous.

He's saying that at two o'clock
today, someone is going to die.

- Two o'clock?
- He's serious.

Someone dies at two.

So are you going
to throw chairs around

or do you fancy doing
something about it?

Chris, get on the phone.
Raise the department.

Nobody dies today.

My name is Sam Tyler.

I had an accident
and I woke up in 1973.

Am i mad? In a coma?
Or back in time?

Whatever's happened, it's like
I've landed on a different planet.

Now maybe if I can work out
a reason, I can get home.

We need this area evacuated.

If he is armed, he can
hit people from that building.

He's inside the Gazette offices.

Help me move this lot further back.

And we need to follow standard
procedure on this one, okay?

That old Hyde training kicking in?
Who is he?

We don't know anything about him,

or what he wants,
all we know is...

that he's given us a deadline.
Two o'clock.

Gives us five hours.

Chris, give these idiots a prod.

Can I be excused from running
about too much this morning?

- I feel a bit sick.
- You got a note?

Get this lot shifted.

Come on.

Hair of the dog.

Where's armed response?

You're looking at it.

We need an inner cordon
as well as this one.

Think of it as two circles,
one inside the other.

The area in the centre is
out of limits to everybody but us.

- Fair 'nough.
- Call it the doughnut.

Jam or custard?

Now you're just being silly.

I'm not the one
calling it a doughnut.

He's got a natural camouflage.
He can see out, we can't see him.

Excuse me!

Sir, can you go back
behind the cordon please?

Stephen Barton,
reporter from the Gazette.

Oh terrific.

Oi! We got another one for you!

Guv...

He walked in about
forty minutes ago.

He was just ahead of me.
He pulled a gun.

He means business.

You know, I'd listen to the snot in
my hanky before I listened to you.

Okay, brief me. Hostages' names?

Our editor, George Bates,
one of our reporters, Jackie.

Jackie Queen?

Think Doris is in there too.
She's George's secretary.

Did you recognise
the hostage-taker?

His face rang a bell but
I wouldn't want to guess at it.

Sticklers for the facts
on the Gazette.

You sure you boys aren't blowing
this up out of all proportion...

cos it's a slow news day?

- I know you journos.
- And they know you, Mr Hunt.

Did you see him?

Where was he, at the window?

This is the police!
You're surrounded, show yourself!

Can you hear us?

Why don't you talk to us?
We're listening!

Well, he's a rubbish shot.

- Missed all of us.
- He wasn't trying to hit us.

It's a message.
It means he's serious.

We need to start a dialogue
with the hostage-taker.

We don't need a dialogue,
we need the hostage-taker...

in cuffs or dead on the floor.

Look, I know how to play this.

Soon as we get a clear shot of him,
job done.

We can end this peacefully.

I've got a plan. We work with him,
we gain his trust.

Why's he gonna trust us?

Because he needs us
to implement his demands.

Quid pro quo.

He gives a little,
we give him something in return.

Gift - reward.

And his idea of a gift might be
the release of a hostage.

Come on.

I'm stepping out!

Stay there.

I'm ready to listen
if you wanna talk.

Look, I'm not here
to tell you what to do.

You're in charge,

that's obvious.

My role is to
facilitate your needs.

Okay, talk to me.

We're both reasonable,
we can both be reasonable.

What do you want?

What is it that you want?

I've already got what I want!

Why don't you...

tell me your name?
What's your name?

I'm... I'm DI Tyler. Sam.

Master key.

It'll open most doors
in the building.

He asked for it,
but I'd rather give it to you.

This is the crisis centre.

I think, if it's the centre
of the crisis you're looking for,

it's out there.

Fire brigade,
ambulance service, police,

all convene here,
away from the building.

Mr Barton, phone lines.

They run out of the west side
of the building.

Okay, we cut them.
We cut him off.

I want to keep him contained.
He'll be isolated.

His only way of speaking to the
outside world will be through...

...us.
- Me.

I'm the negotiator.

I'll make you a hat.

He wants something,
we have to find out what that is.

In order to do that,
we have to find out who he is.

I am agog with excitement.

How about you, Sergeant?

Think we'd better get outside, guv.

Check that doughnut
hasn't gone soggy.

Inspector?

Tell the Inspector.

I saw him, clear as day.

He walked past me,
into the building, very determined.

I saw the gun in his hand, I ran.

Can you describe him?

Ordinary, really.

Lean.. curly hair. Overalls.

- What kind?
- Brown.

He was just very...

ordinary, that's all I can...

- Sorry.
- That's okay. Thanks.

He has to be stopped, he practically
ran over a kiddie in that van.

Found you.

Reg Cole.

And we've got an address.

He's not home.

Fast and thorough. Clock's ticking.

You're the psychology graduate.

Dunno.

He lives alone.

He's got a thing about battles.

Glory.

He's a reader.
Browing, Shakespeare, Tennyson.

Giles.

Brecht.

"Unhappy the land
that has no heroes"

Is he a war hero?

Why would a man with a fixation for
heroism do something this terrible?

I've got to find him, Annie.
Or someone...

What? What, Sam?

I need to...

DCI Hunt, CID, uniform,

no one seems to
know what's going on,

and everyone's running around like
David Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.

Butch Cassidy.

Any Cassidy, I don't care.

You need to get back.

As soon as he opens the window,
we'll have him.

Why would he open a window?

Might be getting stuffy.

That bloke's marking time
is for two o'clock.

So what did you find out?

He lives alone, er...

Looks like he fought in the war,
he was honoured for it,

he's got a thing about glory,
heroism...

Let me try again, guv.

If he wants to talk, I've got something
to work with now, haven't I?

Reg!

Can you hear me?

It's DI Tyler!

Sam!

Is it okay to call you Reg?

Or is it Reginald?

Perhaps you'd prefer Mr Cole?

Reg, we're gonna move
into the building,

just into reception.

Okay, so just stay calm.

Why's it so hot in here?

We cranked the heating up.

You did what?

Boiler's pumped in from an outhouse.

I wanted to force him
to open a window.

- For God's sake! I told you...
- Turn the heating down.

Reg?

What was that,
I can't quite hear you.

Are you trying to antagonise me?

Hello, DCI Hunt.

Was it your brilliant idea to turn
this place into a Shanghai sauna?

She sounds bad.

It's Doris,
George's secretary, she's...

She could die. Anyone could die.

Turn the heating down.

Reg.

I'm trying to work with you here.
I'm trying to help.

I would appreciate it
if you could help me.

Why don't you let me
send a doctor in, for Doris?

No. No doctors.

Okay, why don't you
send her out then?

It would be the
chivalrous thing to do.

Well, at least we know
where he lives.

I could send him a Christmas card.

There's gotta be another way in.

You can't start sneaking coppers
into that building.

I can do what I like,
I'm senior officer.

Send men in there heavy handed
and you are lighting a match...

in a dynamite factory.

Doris is driving him mad,
and he refuses to see a doctor, so-

Alright, we forget going in there.

We'll draw him out.
And then we'll kill the bastard.

We ensure standard procedure
for a hostage scenario

to ensure the release
of the hostage-taker-

What about a nurse?

I trained in the Women's Department.

I could administer
basic First Aid in there.

No. Too dangerous.

"Dangerous" is part of the job,
isn't it?

Hang on,
a copper inside'd be perfect.

They could give us a signal
if he goes for a slash or something.

Shouldn't be a plonk though.

A nurse is non-threatening.
Keep him off guard.

You'd need a uniform.

A nurse came with the ambulance.

Tea wagon's arrived, boss.

Wouldn't want you drying up in the
middle of negociations, would we?

Blimey, I've dreamt about this.

Don't worry love,
just like riding a bike.

Guv, he's gonna frisk her.

You know, something tells me
Reg isn't around lots birds.

We stuff this
down her knickers,

he won't have the nerve to look.
- I'll do it.

We shouldn't underestimate this man.

A stalemate can turn
into a massacre like that.

You're not in charge, Tyler.

No, the bloke with the people
at gunpoint is in charge.

Reg?

It's alright.

I need you to go in there
and calm things down.

If we get his full attention,
I've got a chance to sort this out.

Eyes and ears open.

Lovely mouth closed. You'll be fine.

Nurse Cartwright.

Reg?

Brought a nurse, for Doris.

Reg, she can only help
the situation, what do you say?

Send her up!

Okay, Reg.

I've done something for you.
Why don't you do something for me?

Why don't you tell me
what today is all about?

Reg?

You can withdraw
the feeding tube now.

We'll disconnect at two.

I know what she's thinking in there.

Who, Annie?

Jackie Queen.

She's thinking
we've run out of ideas.

Is there something I should know
about you and Jackie Queen?

She's got it in for the police.

She wants to know
everything about us.

If you've got nothing to hide,
you've got nothing to hide.

Nothing to hide on this one.

The whole city can see
we've got cordons and doughnuts

and now we've sent a helpless plonk.

We're at a very delicate stage of...

Alright, Steve, keep your hat on.

Guten tag, gents.

Morning, Litton.

D'you want me get a bowl
of water for your guide dog?

Regional Crime Squad
should've been notified, Gene.

Tread carefully.

Hey, relax, Sonny Jim.

Big boys are here.

Check your weapons.

Don't do this.
We've got Annie on the inside.

What, you're sending the birds
into battle now, Gene?

Don't wanna get your shoes dirty.

I'm begging you not to do this.

No one can die.

Alright, Cole, this is DCI Hunt.

You're on your last warning!

DCI Litton, Regional Crime Squad.

If you want to play a long game,

that's fine with us,
we're not going anywhere.

Means that I'm threatening you.

We don't want to threaten him.

We can't afford to
lose a single hostage.

What? No one?

Well, there's a thought.

It'll look good in the papers.

Yeah, well, making the front pages
is an occupational hazard.

"RCS diffuse the crisis,
lead everyone to safety"...

yes, I'm liking that.

Maybe we should just shoot him.

- We need to negotiate!
- No, no. Him! Litton.

Nah. Paperwork.
It'd be a bloody nightmare.

I want spam sandwiches and water!

We could let him eat lead instead.

Leave them outside this door
and no funny business!

You've got til two o'clock,

to tell us what you want, Reg.
After that, it's no holds barred.

Don't trust him, Reg, he'll blow
your brains out, given half a chance!

Please! You're jeopardising
everything here!

I'm approaching the door.

I am *not* armed.

I've got sandwiches
and water for you.

I'm gonna unlock the door.

I'm gonna unlock the door
and I'm gonna bring this stuff in.

Okay? I'm not trying
to pull a fast one,

you have my word.

I'm unlocking the door now, Reg.

Reg, I'm inside.

We'll remove his catheter.

Call the nurse.

Perhaps we can talk more
about how all this came about?

You disobeyed me.

I was just trying to help you, Reg.

And if I'm in here, with you,
then I can help you.

What gives you the...
hubris to imagine you can help me?

Okay, let's put it another way.

Let me work with you.

There's a lot at stake here,
Reg, for both of us.

It's over. Drop it.

- Guv...
- Drop.

- The nurse is dead.
- Then so are you.

Guv, put the gun down.

D'you wanna see her brains
all over the wall?

- D'you wanna see your own? Drop it!
- Back away!

You threw away my gun!

I saved her life.

You threw away...

my gun!

You were very wise.
And you were exceedingly stupid.

Give her your key.

Now. Lock the doors.

Oh, Doris!

So what about it, Reg?

Quid pro quo?

I saved that situation just now.

I did that for you.

Can't you do something for me?

Why not?

Should have kept mine, Reg.
Yours looks knackered.

Service revolver. Oiled every day.

Was that supposed
to be a rescue attempt?

You don't do rescue attempts,
do you Gene?

Shut your eyes, come in blasting,
that's your strategy, isn't it?

So, an hour and a half.

Tell me what's so important
about two o'clock.

It's our deadline
for the evening edition.

See...

I'm the front page, Inspector.

"At 8.30 this morning,
an ordinary working man

entered the offices of the
city's most respected newspaper

and took control of it at gunpoint."

I want my story heard.

What is your story?

What you should be
worried about, Inspector,

is how the story ends.

I need to make Doris
more comfortable.

It's too hot for her
here by this radiator.

Can someone help me, please?

Okay, what's it all about, Reg?

Tell me about the article.

Injustice.

Someone, please.
I think we should move her, guv.

What did you say?

Nothing. She needs proper...

What did you say?!

I'm a trained nurse!

Doris is ill. Let her go.

That would be
the honourable thing to do.

Not like dressing a policewoman
up in a nurse's uniform

and sneaking her in,

despite the fact that
you gave me your word!

Oh, come on, Reg, you're a criminal!

You do what you do,
I'm a copper, I do what I do.

Cats eat kippers, dogs eat bones.

All I want is to tell the world
what's in my head.

And just for once have them listen.

I was going to release them,

then I would do what I had to do,

and the world would be left
with my epitaph in the paper.

Not now.
You've dishonoured yourself.

And the price you pay is death.

Two o'clock.

On the dot.

Who's gonna die? All of us?

Look, I could go out there
and plead your case.

You've got grievances. I can put them
to the appropriate authorities.

- What about us, George?
- Jackie, I am this newspaper.

God, I'm sweating pints!

Fear turns us all
into heroes or cowards.

Thing is, we don't know which,
til the moment comes.

I need a drink.

The runners need greasing.

Here.

That is a single malt!

What kind of a monster are you?!

You have your place in society.

- Even he has.
- Oh, I get it.

Old soldier with a grudge.

Wants folk to salute him
as he's walking down the street.

You're annoying me.

You should hang your
head in shame, pal.

Those guns should be used against the
enemy, not against your own people.

- What do you know about this gun?
- What should we know, Reg?

Some people are the living dead,
and don't even know it.

I woke up one morning...

and I realised it.

Well, that was a hell of
a piece of negotiation, Sammy-boy.

Maybe you could talk him into
shooting us both up the jacksie.

He's very clever
and he's very lonely.

There's something else.

Yeah, very armed.
We need to overpower him.

He said fear turns us
into heroes or cowards.

Something he's seen or done,

in the war perhaps.

The way he reacted
when you mentioned the gun.

We've got to find
the key to Reg Cole.

Right now, there's another key
I'd like to get hold of first.

Hatching another
impressive plan, Gene?

You done something
to your hair, Jackie?

- Why?
- Suits you, that's all.

Give us a fag.

Get back in here!

What is it with you and that Jackie?

She's a harpy, end of story.

Do you make friends
everywhere you go?

She wants me.

Poor bitch.

Where did you get that extra water?

Full vase of flowers.

He's testing himself.

And us.

"Mr Cole was infuriated beyond reason

with the injustices of a cheap world,

obsessed with easy glory.

A world that honours the profane,

and delights in the
sanctity of the self.

It is far too florid, Reg.

Our readers would've skipped down to
the bit about you shooting everyone.

"This frightening day
ended in a nuclear explosion

of desperate bloodshed, as Cole, 59-
- 55!

...finally unleashed
his pent-up fury."

I'll get the Carnegie award for this.

Posthumously, of course.

How many'd you kill
during the war, Reg?

Not enough? None at all?

Feeling unappreciated?

"Mr Cole...

was a man of unique intelligence,

who never felt appreciated.

He saw poetry and prose
as a celebration of life.

He saw in literature
all the good things.

Courage...

fortitude, sacrifice.

But in his daily life, he saw...

cowardice, selfishness,

a desire for cheap glory.

And so he felt alone.

You're in the wrong institution,
Inspector Tyler.

You don't know the half of it.

- I'm not lonely.
- No, but you feel...

isolated.

Like the Connecticut Yankee
in the court of King Arthur.

A man out of time.

Stranded in a heathen world.

Which is why you
have to prove yourself.

You know,
none of this would've happened,

if you'd managed to get
yourself laid once in a while.

Shut up, Hunt.

'least I have the guts
to tell it to his face.

I don't hide behind
tomorrow's chip paper.

Oh my God. Help!

She needs help!

I need a mirror, has anyone got-

Think she had a heart attack.

I can do mouth-to-mouth but
I need someone who can perform CPR.

Can you help her?

You can do it,
Doris, come back to us.

Come on, you're missing all the fun.

She's gone.

You can do it, fight!

Fight! Fight!

Good girl!

I had never seen
that technique before.

Why don't you let her leave?

Or any of them?
What have they done to you, Reg?

Thank you, Reg.

George...

I could write your biography, Reg.

It would make a fascinating read.

They could turn it into a film.

Richard Burton'd be
a dead spit for you.

You'll be immortal.

Let me go and I'll do this for you.

You're interested in me?

Really?

It's a Monday.

You normally play golf.

Your clubs are behind the coat stand.

You always bring them in Friday.

Over the weekend,
they have to be moved

so that someone can clean
all the corners in your office.

You're always surprised that they've
changed position over the weekend.

You stay late every night.

- To write the front page!
- Only you don't, does he, Jackie?

You sit in the office,

and you climb into the Scotch bottle
while Jackie does all the work.

Only she never gets
her name on the front page.

Eventually you stumble off
and she's left to it.

And she accepts this because, well...

it's the way it is.

In the morning, someone
turns up at the crack of dawn,

to empty the bin in your office,
get rid of the evidence.

Preserve your respectability.

Who are you?

And you Jackie.

Don't you ever wonder,
after you've worked late again,

who left the light on in the stairwell
so you don't trip up in the dark?

I don't understand.

Don't you usually wear
your red skirt on Mondays?

- Are you spying on us?
- I work here!

Eight years!

I fix the locks on those doors.

I help bring in the
new filing cabinets.

I mend the electrics,
tend the grounds, clean the windows.

I am here!

Just hoping that my little
efforts will be noticed.

If we're all the same underneath,

why do you have a place in life?

Let me live.
I've learnt me lesson.

You feel powerless.

I can understand that, Reg.

Feel like you've been written off
and you've got...

so much to give.

But you made a difference!

What about...

What about the war?

The war?

Yes, Reg. The war.

Days when you could actually
look at yourself in the mirror.

You don't understand.

I understand that right now, you're
not honouring what you fought for.

You can still back away from this.

You can still walk away
with your honour.

Don't move any further, George.

Sit down, George!

You're not a killer.

You're just... angry.

An underappreciated hero.

That's what you are, Reg.

Now...

I'm leaving.

I'm gonna walk down the fire escape.

Okay, George, let me see.

How does it feel to shoot someone?

Is it how you imagined it?

You weren't there, were you?

You never went to war.

You wanted to, though.

You have a deadline to meet!

Okay, Jackie.

Just take a deep breath.

Count the number of steps
from there to your desk.

Just relax. Think you can do that?

Good girl.

You know,
I thought I could reach him.

But he's totally insane.

I'm glad you noticed.

This is gonna be a bloodbath.

You're wasting your time, guv.

Trust the Gene Genie.

Hold still.

The door that leads to the fire escape
is out there in that corridor.

- Do you think we can get them out?
- Maybe.

Well, we can either
sit here waiting to die,

or we do it.

Carry on writing.

I feel sick.

Write.

Better keep going, Jackie.

I think you need to come out here,
mate, we need some help.

It's the guv.

I think it might be something
he ate for his breakfast.

He's allergic to fatty foods.

Low carbs only, he needs fresh fruit.

- It's happened before.
- Will he wake up?

I don't want you to miss this.

What'll revive him?

Punch to the face.

Run!

Go for the fire exit!

Bastard!

- Gene...
- It's okay, love.

Enough!

Miss Queen.

I have a new ending for your article.

"At 2pm today,

the hostages were forced to witness
the execution of three police officers,

as reprisals against a...
a pointless escape attempt."

Are we gonna die now?

No, I reckon we could take him.

I'll jump on him, you take his gun

and Cartwright can jump
up and down on his knackers.

Free the hostages,
get down the pub, no problem.

Well, that's a relief.

For a moment there,
I thought we were in trouble.

When you die, there's supposed
to be this tunnel of light

and you get to relive all your
very best and most wonderful moments.

Go on then, Cartwright.
Give us an example.

Graduation day.

Jumping off a twenty
foot bridge into a weir,

with a bottle of Mateus
Rose in one hand...

Go on...

With a bottle of wine in one hand,

and me bra in the other.

I think that's just become
one of *my* dying memories.

And you, Sam?

I suppose the day I was...

...made a DCI.

Is that the same day
I became King of Egypt?

Oh, yeah, sorry, yeah.

The day I was made DI.

Is that the best you can do?
Something to do with work?

Birthday.

My last birthday.

No, no, actually, it wasn't my last,

what I mean is, it was...

my fourth birthday.

My dad was away a lot. Salesman.

And I woke up that morning,
and I remember thinking,

"Is he gonna be here, is he gonna be...

...downstairs?"
- And was he?

And I went down, and my mum
was waiting in the living room.

And she said, "I'm so sorry, Sammie.

He couldn't make it back in time."

I was gutted.

And I just stood there...

and then I heard this whistling.

For He's A Jolly Good Fellow.

And he came into the room.

I didn't turn round,
'cause I just wanted to...

savour...

that moment.

Knowing that he was there.

I don't think about my past.

Come on.

There must be some...

juicy bit of Gene Hunt heroism
buried in there somewhere.

What, you think this job's heroic?

We clean out the gutters,
that's what we do.

It's a thankless task.

Don't tell me you don't
feel good about what you do.

Ask Jackie Queen if
she thinks we're heroic.

What is it with her?
She wrote a piece about you...

An armed blag at a post office.

This bloke had a gun

and was running towards the crowd.

It wasn't a gun, though, was it?

It was a stick.

He was unarmed.

Jackie, what- what's happening?

I'm going to the loo.
Reg is counting.

When he gets to fifty,
he shoots George.

Again.

He was a wee kid with
a wooden stick, Gene.

You shot him in the back.

He was running towards the crowd.

We'd been in a siege
situation for hours.

If he'd been armed,
he could've killed the lot of them.

I had to make a decision,
woman, in a second.

And you nailed me for it.

You turned it into a hatchet
job and I had to live that down.

The looks I got from
people on the street!

It was covered up. No enquiry.

All the Gazette ever asked
for was greater police accountability.

You also asked for my head
on a plate and that was wrong.

Let me tell you for the record,
I am not the villain of the piece.

I'm not like Litton, Jackie,

I don't need to see
myself on the front page.

I don't deserve to be
shown supping with the devil!

Why are you here?
Is that what you came over for?

No.

He's reached forty.

I've got to go.

Where are you?

The van's arrived, for the typesetters.

We're ready to go to press.

I know you wanna be a hero.

I saw what you wrote in your flat.

Brecht.

"Unhappy the land that has no heroes"

That's half the quote.

"Unhappy the land that has no heroes.

No, unhappy the land
that needs heroes."

I don't understand.

If you fail to be a hero,
be content to be a villain.

- And that's the point of all this?
- In the end, yes.

I tried to be a heroic nobody.
Didn't work.

So now I'm a famous villian.

If you kill us,

they will come in here
and they will kill you.

I die famous.

You die coppers.

I don't think you really
wanna be a villian, Reg.

I think it's fear
that's made you do this.

No point in you trying to be a hero.

No one to save. Not even yourself.

I'm not trying to be a hero.

You're deluded, Sam.

You're breathing, your heart's beating,
but it's an illusion of life.

You're dead already.

Time to put you out of your misery.

Bye, Annie.

When you're done with him,

you'd better turn on me quick,
Cole or I'll kill you.

Two o'clock.

And I didn't turn around...

because I knew my dad was home.

Sammie! Big boy now, eh!

It's over, Cole!

You've met your match!

No! Sir, no!

Put the gun down, Reg.

Somebody call an ambulance!

He can't be...

It wasn't supposed to...

Someone dies, two o'clock...

What's that all over him?

Scotch.

He's bleeding whisky.

That was the guv's collar.

I want that known.

Have you got that?

And I want Love Me Tender
played at my funeral.

That was lucky, eh?

What are the chances?

Pretty good, actually.

You never know how far
you're gonna be from a boozer!

Watch out!

No, stop, stop!

What would he say?

What would he say,
the man whose pistol that is?

That's a hero's pistol, Reg.

Come on.

Gimme the gun.

It's over.

Nobody dies today.

He assaulted a fellow senior officer.

DCI Litton was a target.

For a second, I didn't see a copper,
only a helpless victim.

I positioned DCI Litton on
the floor in order to protect him.

Would you say that was fair,
Miss Queen?

Wait for the evening edition, Mr Hunt!

I'm serious,
I don't want to see a hatchet job.

I don't do hatchet jobs. I do my job...

just like you.

The guv took a shot to
the chest in the line of duty.

Luckily, he had the foresight
to be wearing protection.

Well, I'm a great believer
following standard procedure

in a hostage-taking scenario.

I just cheated death.

What?

They didn't switch me off. Why?

Sam? Do me a favour.

Enjoy the moment.

Good lad.

Cheers.

Here we go, boys and girls,
we've made the evening edition.

I propose we batton down the
hatches and spend the week in here.

Can someone book me on the
first flight to Jamaica, *please*!

I'm telling you for the last time,

I don't care what your machine says!

I'm leaving him on!

You say you can't detect anything,
but I know what I saw!

At two o'clock,
on the dot, I saw Sam smile!

I saw him smile!

Operator, can I connect you?

- Hello?
- I was just connected.

So tell me, between you and me, guv,

how does it feel to be a hero?

Like being drunk.

On myself.

Spoilers after credits!