04x10 - Diana

[bunniefuu]

You can't override the White
House. . . You're out Harry.

I may not be your boss
any more, Ruth, but there's
no need to be insulting.

I have something for you.

Our job is
to deal with the present danger.

We won't get a second chance
to find this weapon. He has to be
this way.

Nancy offered me your job.
What did you say? Told them
they couldn't afford me.

It's good to have you back.
It's good to be back.

If we fail, then a lot of
unpleasantness will come our way.

FAINT VOICES

g*nsh*t

Oh, no!

Peter.

Oh, Peter!
What have they done to you?

What have they done to you?

Ruth, it's all right.
It's me. Angela.

Put the light on.

Thought I'd wait for you in the warm.

I said put the light on!

I could have injured you with this.
Why you so jumpy? You ARE a burglar!

How did you get in?

If I were you I'd get Malcolm and
his techies to up your security.

Malcolm is still at Thames House?
Maybe. We'll set him a test.

Get him to upgrade and
see if I can still get in!

What do you want?

You've forgotten the date,
haven't you? Oh no.

I'm so sorry.

Peter k*lled himself
a year ago tomorrow.

Oh, Angela.

I wanted to marry him, you know.

I proposed to him !
After they fired him from
the Royal Protection Unit.

I thought you broke up after that?

We pretended to. It was his idea.

To protect my career in MI5.
What did he say?

No.

We saw each other though.

Like spy lovers avoiding the spies.

Why didn't you help him, Ruth?

How? You know how tight they are
about Royal Protection.
You were his sister.

Stepsister. You were in GCHQ.
At the nerve centre.
You could've helped him.

He was protecting Princess Diana!
When they found out how bad his
drinking was, they fired him.

He couldn't go on being near her.

They fired him because he
found out about the plot. What plot?

The plan by the security
services to assassinate Diana.

Which succeeded.

That is insane. You know it is.

Peter was fired on 1st August 1997.

On the 31st August, they k*lled her.

The nation's heart.

No.

It was a car crash. An accident.

No, it was m*rder.

And I can prove it.

We'll need to get an MD viewer.

Well, actually. . .

Bring work home do you?

When did you get that done?

Undercover with the INLA in '92.
That was a great operation.

The Contingent Events Committee.

This is a "no eyes" document.

It's meant to be destroyed after
it's read. How did you get it?
It was in Peter's things.

How did he get it?
]From Diana herself, of course.

And how did she get it?
She was a very clever woman.

Angela, you could go to
jail for having this.

Why do you think I microfilmed it and
hid it in my tooth? It's not funny.

Read the next page.

PD? Princess Diana.

Harry?

Oh, yes.

I've never heard of the
Contingent Events Committee.
Of course you haven't.

File number 954396G130497.

The last six numbers must
be the date 13th April 1997.

You can start by looking to see if
Harry's diary for then still exists.

Can start what? Our investigation!

We've got to get details of how they
organised the crash in Paris.
And m*rder*d her.

This is just one more crack-pot
conspiracy theory. Think, Ruth.

A "no eyes" document.

The security forces
k*lled the People's Princess!
It's the greatest scandal

of the age. Your brother k*lled
himself because he couldn't prove it.

You can.
And you want to, I know you do.

Stop it. Stop it! Do it for Peter.

No.

Then do it for the country.

It's madness.

All right, I'll go.

But I know the spook inside
you is saying, "What if?".

What if, Ruth?

Home time soon.

Do you fancy a drink?

Erm, don't know, maybe.
You seem a bit down today.

Oh, it's a funny throat.

Want a lozzy? No. No I'm fine.

I'm going to send
this back to registry.

You done with that one?

Not quite, no.

Did Steinberg show? No, no sign.

Nine days of obbo and not a whiff.

You coming to The George tonight?
Yes, please. Ruth?

What? George? Tonight?

No. . . Er, Adam ! Yes, Ruth?

I, er, no, it doesn't matter.

I just came across something.

Have you heard of the
Contingent Events Committee?

Can't say that I have. What is it?

That's what I was going to ask you.

It could be clandestine.
You mean attached to Anti-Terrorism?
I don't know.

Anti-Terrorism Sub Committees are
top secret but they're listed.

Ask Harry. He loves clandestine.

Yeah, but don't mention it to him.

I mean, I'll talk to him.

No need for you to.

What's the matter?
Nothing. Isn't that. . . ?

Hello everyone,
I've got a special treat for you.

Angela Wells.

Oh God. Miss Wells.

Zafar Younis, Field Officer.
Very, very pleased to meet you.
And I you, Mr. Younis.

Ah this is Jo Portman, Junior Field
Officer. Jo. Glad to meet you.
You're a legend. Am I?

Sweet of you to say so.

We've never met. Adam Carter,
Intelligence Officer.
I joined after you left.

Recruited from MI6, weren't you?
Yeah. I heard.

Old spies don't die, they just
sit with their ears to the wall.
I'm very sorry about your wife.

Accept my sympathy for your loss.

Thank you.

Hello, Ruth. Hello, Angela.

To what do we owe this visitation?
Thought I'd come and see you, Harry.

I smuggled her in. Since she's
retired and doesn't have any passes.
Tut, tut.

I've got to be at Downing Street. . .
five minutes ago! Learn from
this woman. She's got a lot to give.

Harry.

Juliet. Glory, Miss Wells!

So long. Is the tooth. . . ?

Still operational. Tooth?

One of Malcolm's greatest ideas.
Spectacular dentistry. Ruth?

Harley Street dentist did it,
under the Official Secret's Act.

And anaesthetic, of course.

What tooth? Microdots. For when
Angela went on the INLA op in '92.

Those were the days. Oh, that op's
famous, they use that in training.

Come into my office, you can tell
tall tales to the troops later!

No! Get her out! What?

Get her out of here, now!

Ruth, what's the problem?

Oh, I don't think I'm going to
leave this early, do you, Ruth?

I think you better do what she says.
Do you, pretty boy?

What? Please. All of you.

Do pay attention to me.

This is a trigger.

It sends a signal to there.

The expl*sive's concentrate 34,
plastic expl*sive, developed
by the Ministry of Defence.

It's concealed in the sides
and bottom.

This trigger, and the detonator
which I can operate
with the flick of my thumb,

is an old but reliable
Czech system called a Seva Gola.

It has a range of 100 metres.

Malcolm, explain what this means.

Oh. Well, concentrate 34
is very powerful,
it's a very sweet expl*sive.

Sweet?
I mean effective. . . Effective, yes.

One ounce is equivalent
to at least a kilo of TNT.

I have five ounces.

Do go on.

The. . .Sevo Gola remote detonation
system was developed by the Czech
Secret Service way back in the '70s.

It's never been bettered
for reliability.

Tell us what the effect would
be if I pressed this button.

It would k*ll all of us.
And probably many more people
in the building.

Actually, the building
itself probably wouldn't survive.

Well, Harry,
looks like you've been hand-bagged.

What do you want us to do, Angela?
I want you to order a lock-down.

If I order a lock-down now,
the whole building will know
we've got a problem.

Don't pretend to be thick, Harry.

Not a real one. Tell the switchboard
you're calling a lock-down exercise,
to isolate the Grid.

Intruder containment?
Tell them it's an exercise
when it's the real thing? Neat, eh?

You! Lock the pods.

Right.

How do I do that?
Don't be a smart-arse. Do it.

Done.

Now, Harry, call the switchboard.

Lock-down exercises are usually
called by the. . . Harry! All of you!

You have got to co-operate!

I AM prepared to die!
Understand that!

This is Harry Pearce, Section D.

I am ordering a spot lock-down

commencing in 15 seconds.

Disconnect all telephones
and communication lines.

You'll be contacted by messenger
when to reconnect.

Now, Angela, can we. . . ? Wait!

You! Cut the top off
that water cooler.

Right, all mobile phones in there.

You know what this is about,
don't you? No talking! No talking!

Right, briefing.

Tell them, Ruth. Tell what?

The reason I'm doing this!

Angela, you will never get
away with it. I don't care.

I told you I couldn't help you.
No, you refused to help.
Different thing.

This won't bring Peter back.

This isn't about Peter. It's about
this profession, this country,

that we're supposed to protect but
which turns on its own. Tell them.

Angela believes

that Princess Diana was m*rder*d
by the British Security Services.

By us.

What's funny? Nothing.
You find that funny? No. Funny?

That your boss was on a committee
that ordered the faking of the
car accident which k*lled Diana?

Angela, what are you talking about?
I'm talking about you

being chair
of the Contingent Events Committee.

The what? The committee
that organised then ordered the
assassination. This is madness.

You can't deny
there was such a committee. I can.

Angela, you must let us help you.

Peter Haigh.

Do any of you, apart from her,
know who he was?

You don't, do you, you b*stards!

Peter Haigh.
He was fired from the Royal
Protection Unit attached to Diana.

Clever as well as pretty!

What was he fired for?
He had a problem.

Indeed he did. He knew the truth!

It was an alcohol problem.
He drank because of the truth.

Very good people often do.

I loved him.

She didn't,
even though he was her brother.

Yes, I remember. He was your
stepbrother, wasn't he, Ruth?

Yes.

Angela, if this is about family. . .
Peter knew what your
committee was planning.

But they fired him before he
could prove it, let alone stop it.
There never was such a committee.

Oh, yes, there was!
No, Zaf! No!

It's all right.

Karate kid? That it?

Martial art training, didn't
get it in my day. It's a CIA fad.

Nearly got you all blown up, Harry.

And you. And me.
You don't care about yourself?

Me, I'd be pleased to join the hail
of human mincemeat if I pressed this.

Right! New arrangement.

Someone get me some handcuffs.

Handcuffs! Come on, standard
field issue, good old-fashioned
bobby's handcuffs! Get me two pairs.

Put one cuff on her wrist.

And the other cuff on the handles of
my so expensive, beautiful
Italian leather handbag.

Bought it for a wedding, by the way.

The other pair on the desk.

Everyone back! Way back!

Now. . .Giggler.

We're going to go, quietly,
into the meeting room.

These are my demands. I want to know
details of how Diana was m*rder*d,

with hard, incontrovertible
evidence of the conspiracy.

I want documents on Royal Security,
how it could have been breached,
and how she was m*rder*d.

Then I want the evidence taken
to every newspaper
and television room.

When that is done I will disarm my
Italian handbag and surrender to you.
You can do what you want with me.

What if there is no conspiracy?

Are you going to blow yourself up
anyway and us along with you?
Prove Peter wasn't lying, and live.

Put me be with the bag.
Jo is a junior officer. Oh, stop
being a leader, pretty boy.

I mean, I know
you're a resourceful lot.

You'll go into a huddle and plot.
You're spooks, it's your nature.

But I've had the training too,
remember, so don't be stupid.

I was better at the game
than the lot of you.

Except perhaps you, Harry.

I couldn't have m*rder*d Diana.

You've got until dawn.

And just to impress on you
how serious I am. . .

I want to die, really.

I really do.

Come on, Giggler.

Every 30 minutes he reports to me.

Don't let me get too suicidal.

Would you like a coffee or
tea, or something?

I'm sure that someone. . .

Or some water?

I joined the service because of you.

Not exactly but,

you were held up to us.

You were a heroine.
Giggler, stop it.

I just always wanted to meet you.

Yes, dreamt of becoming my friend,
haven't you, while being handcuffed
to five ounces of plastic expl*sive?

No. You are trying to get into the
first step of the hostage and siege
procedural manual.

Personalise the situation.

So that I will
break down and say,

"Oh, I am sorry, I didn't realise
you were a human being".

Listen.

The only human being
I care about blew his brains out.

I cradled him in my arms, his
blood all over me. Now shut up!

'The trouble is it's an old device. '

It's operated by a radio signal.
Can't we neutralise it?
Short-range high frequency.

If it was modern,
maybe we could mess with it
but it's old technology.

The best for this type of job.

Where the hell did she get it from?

Agents do tend to build up
private collections of equipment
over the years.

Someone in here
walked off with a micro-dot reader.

Treat this as an operation.
Adam, you're in charge.

I'll dig into the files,
see if I can profile her.

Is there no physical
way we can get to her?

We've got mace and firearms,
but with that Seva Gola,
it's too risky.

We're into mind games, then.

Umm, don't underestimate this woman.

She mastered in psychological
manipulation. Keep it simple.
We'll prove that she was right.

Even if she's wrong? Absolutely.

And send a false story
to the media?

It won't be false though, will it?
It'll be how MI5 m*rder*d Diana.

Don't get you. I want you to put
together how MI5 could have m*rder*d
Diana. The most convincing case.

And that's what we'll sell to her.
All right.

Malcolm, see if there's anyway you
can knock her out in there, bearing
in mind Jo's with her. Will do.

Ruth, I want to talk to you.

Good.
But first, Colin, come with me.

Looks like Adam Carter's
running the op. As you'd expect.

Is he the wonder boy they say he is?

Giggler, I asked you a question.

My name's Jo. No, it isn't.

I'm de-personalising you to Giggler

so that when you start telling me
about your sick mother
or your p*ssy cat at home,

I don't break down in tears and say,
"Sorry, sorry you can go. "

Adam's brilliant at his job, yes.

Mmm.
What do you think his game plan is?

I don't know. Guess.

As a promising spook.

You must make judgements
about his decisions all the time.

Don't you want his job
some time in the future?

He's going to do what you want.
Is he? Yes.

I think not. I suspect
Adam Carter's deeply devious. No?

Can you warn them outside
to clear the rest of the building?

Not with a lock-down. No way.

Short of digging our way out.

Could you do that?
Well, the main ventilation shaft's
on the other side of that wall.

Can you get through it?

We can try.

OK, just one of you do it. The rest
of us will have to stay in view.

Colin?

Right. OK. If you can get
a hole big enough, go through it.

What's this? The tunnel in Paris,
where she crashed.

To help us think. Good.

You all right?

This woman's a heavyweight.

I don't think we're anywhere
near knowing what her real game is.

Mind games, Giggler.

That's what we're in for.

But Adam Carter could get you k*lled,

along with all your friends.

But, you being so close
to the expl*si*n,

there'll be hardly
anything left of you

for your poor sick mother to bury.

How do you know my mum's sick?
Oh, is she? How did you know that?

Mind-reading.

Like the psychics, the palm readers.

A simple technique, mention a
few commonplace things, cat,
mother, something's bound to be true.

What is it, cancer?

You b*tch. Yes.

Circumstances can change you
wonderfully.

We are what happens to us,
don't you find that to be true?

Looks like Ruth's about to own up.

Ruth? She's been a naughty girl.

I wanted to love her, you know.

She could have been my sister too.

You knew about this. She came to see
me last night. She what? I sent her
away. I didn't have an inkling. . .

Well, why didn't you report it?
Guilt? Yes, say guilt.

My stepbrother, Angela and me,
it was complicated.
For God's sake, Ruth.

She gave me this. It's MD film.

I got in early and blew it up.

PD. Princess Diana.

Harry's name's attached. Yes.

There's something else.

Harry's diary.

Entry for 13th April, 1997.

Look at the morning - meeting.

So? All the other meetings in the
afternoon are marked. This isn't.

The dates, his name -
he must have been at the
Contingent Events Committee.

This is nonsense. You mean
it's a fake? Of course it's a fake!

Dreamt up by some spotty paranoid.

There's a whole snake-pit of
Diana conspiracy theories out there.

Where did you get it from anyway?
Let's just deal with
the situation we have here.

Harry, are you sure this Committee
never existed? Of course.

And you never served on it?
Well, since it never existed,
obviously I did not!

Have you found anything
we can use to get at this woman?

I'm not past the basic biog details
yet which are dazzling.

Newnham College Cambridge,
double first in modern languages.

Athlete, University Blue
in the 10, 000m, almost made
the 1984 Olympics.

Fast-tracked to the Home Office
and to us. And to cap it all,

her father was
the Bishop of Norwich.

The makings of a heroine.

Or a serious lunatic.

Why didn't you show him the diary?
Because I think this committee
really existed.

An MI5 committee? That organised
the death of Princess Diana?

So, Angela's right? What kind of
organisation are we working for?
State assassins?

You know we've k*lled people.
t*rrorists! Where do you draw the
line? You draw the line with her,

a woman the people loved. It's like
a coup against the nation's heart.
Calm down.

We'll take it step by step.

To confront Harry, we need proof,
confirmation from another source.

The trouble is because of the
lock-down, we can't make e-mail
enquiries, even internally.

We can't access the records
of other departments, MI6. . . We can
get into our own data banks though?

Yes. So work with that.

Right.

Now what are YOU up to?

Take the cutting arm off?

Use it as a knife?

Great.

You OK?

Don't talk to her.

She's roughing you up so that
we worry about you as a hostage.

Oh, Adam Carter.

Don't let her do it.

What is Malcolm doing with a
guillotine? Planning to cut off
your head!

He's making a chart display.

Really.

So apart from putting up
a few pictures,
what else have you achieved?

We've only had a half an hour.

Bring me everything
on Royal security protocol.

Somehow in Paris MI5 got wrong
security measures. I want
all the documents, every scrap.

Maybe I'll find out how
MI5 did this before you do.

Sure.

Get on with it.

Any sign of them? Sign of what?
Don't play the silly billy!

Minutes of the meeting
where they decided to k*ll her.
That's what I need.

What if they don't exist?
They exist!

Security protocols?

That's all we can find.

Who's working my profile up?

Harry?

I'll lose my patience.

Suddenly.

I'm very impulsive, you see.

I'm in despair, you see.

That much.

Bear that in mind.

But you must know it's not true.

You must.

You know what this country lacks?

A culture of death.

We used to have one of those,
when we were Christian.

OK, I'm ready.

Now don't forget we're
only playing "what if?".

You mean what if Harry organised
the assassination of Princess Diana?

I think he could have.
You don't mean that! Don't I?

It's the conspiracy theories,
they suck you in.

Yeah, they do. Some say it was
caused by Satanists
because Diana's Mercedes

crashed into the 13th pillar
in the tunnel.

Or that the limo was stolen
by the Israeli Secret Service.

The steering was modified so it
could be controlled by a remote
radio signal. Now Mossad did it? No.

MI5 and MI6 did it
in a joint operation.

And I'll show you how.

The British Embassy in Paris
denied ever knowing that
Diana had arrived in Paris.

But they did.

And the night before she arrived at
the Ritz, two very high-ranking MI6
Officers arrived at the Embassy.

Do you know who they were?
Yep, Mace and Siviter.

The heavy brigade.

The point is, everything
at the hotel was orchestrated.

Look at this.

What do you see?

It's a classic stake-out procedure.

Everything can be
observed and overheard,
but everything looks natural.

What's this?
How we k*lled the Princess.

At the front of the hotel
were paparazzi.

They were in a frenzy to
get quotes and photographs.

But were they all
really journalists?

Three of them, leading the jostling
and shouting, can never be traced.

And British security officers had
been picked up on the hotel's CCTV
loitering around all day.

So what's going on?

MI5 wanted
Diana's party to switch cars.

The Mercedes S600 parked
at the front of the hotel,
was heavy and armoured.

But the alternative car,
parked at the rear of the hotel,
is a light Mercedes S280.

A much, much easier target.

And driven by Henri Paul,
head of Security at the Ritz
but not the regular driver.

And he was drunk.

No, no he wasn't. Now that's
the MI5/MI6 cover story, "Diana
k*lled in drunk-drive accident. "

Henri Paul reported for duty
at 10pm.

No-one reported him drunk.

On CCTV his movements are normal.

The autopsy after his death in the
crash showed his liver was normal.

The police say the car
left the Ritz at great speed.

CCTV footage shows
it left at normal speed.

And a few days earlier he passed
a rigorous medical exam

to renew his pilot's licence.
He flew light aircraft.

Yeah, but the police found
high alcohol content in his blood.
Yeah, but it wasn't his blood!

His family claim the samples
were mixed up or even switched.

The sample that was supposed
to be Henri Paul's contained a
large amount of carbon monoxide.

It belonged to a suicide
who'd drunk a lot before he k*lled
himself by car exhaust fumes.

OK, so an MI5/MI6 field team get
Diana out of her usual car and into

a more vulnerable one with
a less experienced driver.

What then? Then they assassinate
her by staging the accident
and they do it like this.

The road by the Seine
goes into a tunnel.

Henri Paul. . .

accelerates to get away from
the paparazzi who are
following on motorbikes.

Behind, is a big white Mercedes.

This is the control vehicle
for the operation.

Behind that,
is a small, white Fiat Uno.

The Fiat Uno overtakes
first the control vehicle

and then, when Diana's car is deep
inside the tunnel and most at risk,
it pulls alongside.

It was driven by agents to distract
Henri Paul at the crucial moment.

The Fiat Uno pulls away and behind
there comes a motorbike

with a pillion rider
and this pillion rider is carrying
a hand-held strobe light.

This strobe, smaller than a cigar,
is tuned to a cycle
of 12 hertz per second.

The strobe blinds Henri Paul,
just for a moment,
but that's all it takes.

The car crashes.

The People's Princess dies.

At the 13th pillar.

And Satan has his way.

I'm believing it.

Oh God. OK, if we have to, that's
the story we'll give to Angela.

Story or truth?

Protect the heart of the nation -
that's what we're meant to do
in this job.

Instead did we rip it out.

I've found a trace of the committee.

Look.

These are registry files cached
on our system. It's a backup. When
you delete a file a tag remains.

The file's still
on the hard drive? No, it's been
over-wiped manually. But?

BUT back in the '90s, a hacker got
into the Thames House system.

You mean that nine year-old
from Macclesfield?

Yes. Well, he used
a keystroke virus. And it's
still filed in a quarantine folder

and on it. . .

there's a log of file names.

So the file existed.
So did the committee.

And Harry's on it.

What are we going to do?

They've discovered something.

Your big idea, Pretty Boy?

Dig a hole, your idea!

I felt the vibrations in the wall.

Ah, every man's dream -
escape from Stalag 13!

All right, I'm stopping.

There's steel bars
in the bloody way anyway.

Get out!

Dawn!

You've got till dawn!

Harry.
You denied it to Angela's face.

Tactical reasons, I can see that.

But I have to ask you again, did
you ever serve on something called
the Contingent Events Committee?

This is a print-out
from the registry computer.

The record of the committee meeting
was overwritten.

I have retrieved a mention of it.

Also this is your diary,

from 1997.



there is an entry for
a morning-long meeting.

This is the same date. . .

.as that on the micro dot document.

Yes. Yes, what?

Yes, the committee existed.
And I was a member.

You mean you planned
Diana's death in Paris? Yes.

Why?

The woman was unstable. There were
fears she was being manipulated by

undesirable influences.

She was causing untold damage to the
very central pillar of the British
State, the Royal Family itself.

It was felt if an accident
could be arranged,

there would be outpourings of grief
which would, paradoxically,
unite the nation.

We were right in that.

You k*lled her.

What are you going to do?

Tell Angela.

Er, lift the lock-down.
Call Special Branch,

to arrest you for
conspiracy to m*rder.

Better do it, then.

It will defuse this
terrible situation.

Unless, after all it's not true.
Of course it's not true.

I should bloody well think not!
Have you two lost your reason?

The committee was there to operate
worse-case-scenario exercises.

Imagine the worst
to be able to prevent it.

We had to look at Diana being
m*rder*d. The Government were
terrified about what might happen.

She was a loose cannon.
Out at all hours,
all over the world, with men.

She was an irresistible
target to the loonies

who are swarming across
this planet.

We had to look at it.
What did you fear the most?

An attack in a car,
being pursued by paparazzi.

Probably overtaken
by a motorcyclist.

A pillion rider could easily sh**t
out the car tyres using a 5.7.

I've not. . . Ultra light weapon,
fires a frangible b*llet.

Blow out the tyres, car crashes,
preferably in a closed space.

Dear God. You predicted her death.

Yes. But it was an accident.

We were terrified. We tried to cover
all traces of the scenario document.

But bureaucracy
always leaves a slime trail.

I've got to go
and give her something.

Zaf's faking the document,
I could make her buy that.

No. We've got to get her
to surrender to us.
And you shouldn't do it.

No, there's too much between her
and me. You mean Peter Haigh.

I'm sorry, Ruth,
I've been busy looking at
the psychiatric assessment reports.

Hers and yours.

My file?
The key is your stepbrother.

There is something you can tell her,
isn't there, Ruth?

No.

Let me take her Zaf's material.
You try and sell her a pup,

this building will be rubble
in seconds. Don't forget,
we're talking about Angela Wells!

Ruth. . .

Ruth. . .

What do you want?

Let her go and I'll tell you.

No, no.

There was a committee.

Harry sat on it.

He worked out how to k*ll Diana.
Oh, my God.

Let her go and I'll tell you more.

Go.

The plan to k*ll Diana. . .

was to fire a disintegrating b*llet

from the pillion of
a passing motorbike.

The front tyre bursts,
the car crashes.

Peter was right.

No, he wasn't.

Harry's committee was
examining worst-case scenarios.

The horrible thing is they
nearly predicted the crash.

But they didn't cause it.

There was
no motorbike assassin, no plot.

Just fate.
Are you trying to get us all k*lled?
No, Angela.

I've got to tell you something.

About something that happened. . .

.when he was 20 and I was 18.

You slept with him.

Is that what you're
trying to tell me?

You see, there were rows.
His father wasn't getting on
with my mother,

we saw they
were going to break up and. . .

Peter and I, we got
close to each other.

No.

We. . .

We fell in love.

We ran off together.

For a mad week.

To Blackpool.

Blackpool. . .

It was winter.

The town was all shut up,
it was. . . it was oddly beautiful.

We stayed in about the only
B&B that was still open.

You see, it shouldn't have been. . .
my mother and his father who met.

It should have been me and Peter.

When we went back, there
were terrible scenes.

Strangely. . . it patched
things up between our parents.

And I. . .

I just left.

That's why you never got on with me.

You were still in love with him.

Yes.

He always drank, Angela.

Most of the time in Blackpool

I was drunk with him.

He was a dreamer.

And in love with me.

Always.

Never with you.

No.

Don't.

CLICK

Well done. You think so?
You broke her.

Maybe I broke me, too. That's
adrenaline withdrawal. Is it? Good.

Thank you. Ruth. . . I lied. I told
her I'd slept with my stepbrother.

I sold myself, my feelings,
to manipulate her.

You think I'm a limited man.

You think I don't
understand the emotional side.

Self control, self denial,
these are the things which
keep us together in this job.

You told a huge lie
about your personal life.

I can't bear that I did. Aren't you
proud you had the nerve to do it?

It was horrible.
Aren't you proud you told the lie?

Aren't you proud you talked
Angela out of that room?

Oh, God forgive me.

You're a born spook, Ruth.

I stole the MD reader.

Then return it.

There IS plastic expl*sive.

But no mechanism.

I've had an idea.

So we're all agreed.

This is our decision.

I'm sorry but I hate it.

She was vicious to me.

Jo, you and I never knew this woman.

In her time
she saved many, many lives.

We have a debt to her. It could be
any one of us sitting in that chair.

Angela, we've got
a proposition for you.

We're going to treat you
as a victim in the field.

You mean that?

Thank you.

Thank you.

ANGELA: I've ruined
everything I believed in.

I've destroyed myself.

It's OK.

No, this is wrong, you can't just
let her go! It's a spook tradition.

If one of us goes to pieces during
an op in the field, we get them
out of trouble.

But this wasn't an op.
To her, it was.

There are conditions.

Silence.

Yes. You leave the country.
We never see you again.

If we do,
we throw you to the wolves.

Yes. Thank you.

I lost my way. . .

so badly.

I must smarten up before I leave.

Without your handbag, I'm afraid.

Zaf, get a messenger
down to Control.

Tell them to lift the lock-down.

How do we explain a hole in the wall
to Internal Services?

Mice.

Jo? Steep learning curve.

I feel like I'm on one, too.
The trouble is it's curving down,
not up.

Angela was the last person
I expected to see in pieces.

Hiya. You two look like death,
you been out late with Angela?

No, after she left, we had
a night-long lock-down exercise.

Did you? That's very keen of you.

General sharpening up, I thought.
Excuse me.

I'm glad Angela's visit inspired
such dedication to staff training.

Bit late in the day. . . Harry!
There's a document missing.
What document?

I made a list of all the papers
we showed to Angela, and
they're all here but for one.

Has she taken something? Yes.
It's the report we did last year

on the new security measures
at Buckingham Palace.

It was a blind. It's her MO,
she twists and turns
so we don't see her real target.

Which is? The Royal Family.

Adam Carter. A woman's just
left the building, stop her!

Her Majesty is at Buckingham Palace.
I want a double A national alert.

Get me Sir Petrie Meacham. I'm
moving the Royal Family to Pegasus.

Pegasus? Top-security
royal protection bunker.

Sorry, will someone
tell me what's going on?

I fear we may have a situation.

SIRENS WAIL

Yes, yes, we're fully up to speed.
The family will be with us
in three minutes.

Nothing. We've got 250 officers
in and outside the palace.

She can't have slipped through that.
Maybe she's waiting.

No, she'd move at once in case
we got onto her. Which we did.

Did Princess Diana
ever go to Pegasus?

Yes, in 1987. Was Peter Haigh
assigned to the princess in '87?

Yes.

Are you thinking. . . ?

He could have told her
about Pegasus.

This is the most secret installation.
There's no way a lunatic
could get in here.

You mean a lunatic like her?

You mean this is her? When did
you employ her? Seven months ago.

As an electrician. You let that woman
get at the electrical system?

She passed all the vetting.

Where's your LEX control panel?

Down here.
Ruth, get Malcolm over here!

What do you think she's done?
In seven months, with her know-how?
Something nasty.

We have to get the Royal Family
out of there.

I don't think that's possible.
What do you mean?

I must call the b*mb squad.

No time.

Malcolm? There's strong readings
for expl*sives but I can't see. . .

Oh, no.

She's coated the wires
themselves and replaced the casings.

It must have taken her months.

The entire building's
rigged to explode.

Adam, speak to me.

Malcolm. . .

You had no idea which wire to cut.

Well, it was one of them, why not
all of them? Have you any idea
how dangerous that was?

Not as dangerous as standing here
and waiting for the clock
to hit zero.

Yes, I know.

I froze. I'm sorry.

I'm so sorry.

All secure? Yeah.
The Royals got to Scotland yet?

On their way. Malcolm?

I sent him back to Thames House
in a car. He OK? Fine.

Malcolm !

Nice work, Malcolm.

Adam told us how you cut the wires,
stopped the device with
seconds to spare. Terrific, Malcolm.

He said that? When he phoned in
his field report.

He was full of praise.

I see.

We couldn't protect the Queen in
our most secure bunker. We stopped
the b*mb. Not the b*mber.

We'll find her. If we don't,
hell will have to be paid.

Malcolm?

Adam's report was wrong.

I panicked.

He covered for me,
I can't let him do that.

Yes, you can. No.

You see, bravery's something I dread.

This is the Coriolanus nightmare.

The greatest fighter in your army
turns against you to destroy
all you stand for.

She staged the whole thing
just so that we'd put
the Royal Family into Pegasus.

I hate the fact
that she knew we'd let her go.

She knew we'd treat her
as a victim in the field.

We had no choice, it's the code.
Time to get rid of it. You can't!

What if one of us goes to pieces
in the field?

Angela Wells is beyond any code now.

There is still a way
we could help her.

PHONE RINGS
What do you mean? k*ll her.

Yes.

I want the anti-t*rror1st committee
to declare special powers.

INAUDIBLE

Get me the Home Secretary now. I
want authorisation to sh**t to k*ll.

SCREAMING

Get inside! Get inside!