[Martian] I thought I could let you go.
Make it all easier for you. For me.
[Sami] I have to go.
[Grandma] Maybe she has a plane to catch.
[Grandpa] With no luggage?
[Henry] Dr. Blake is over from our psych department,
here to evaluate mental health
- across the Department. - Sure you are.
How many of Coyote's sources have we notified?
I contacted a fourth who sounded spooked.
It's Alexei Orekhov.
We need to exfiltrate him now.
You really think he's that unstable?
Nope. I think we can use him.
[Naomi] You're being sent to Tehran to identify
Iranian nuclear engineers.
What if I don't make it in?
Figure out something else to do with your life.
- [shouting in Russian] - [Henry] We have Orekhov.
- [speaking Russian] - [Blair] "I report to Moscow."
- "I work for..." - What's happening?
He's quacking.
[Blair] "...the Americans and the Russians."
[Bosko] Felix is the heaviest
of heavy, heavy shit,
and nobody would ever mention,
ever.
[Martian] I'm looking for someone
attending your conference.
Dr. Samia Zahir?
[professor] Yes, uh, she has not been back since the first day.
♪ "Love is Blindness" by Jack White ♪
♪ Love is blindness ♪
♪ I don't want to see ♪
♪ Won't you wrap the night ♪
♪ Around me ♪
♪ Oh, my heart ♪
♪ Love is blindness ♪
♪ Blindness ♪
♪ Love is blindness ♪
♪ I don't want to see ♪
♪ Won't you wrap the night ♪
♪ Around me, yeah ♪
♪ Oh ♪
♪ My love ♪
♪ Love is blindness ♪
♪ Oh, love is blindness ♪
♪ Oh, blow out the candle ♪
♪ Blindness ♪
[Bob Seger's "Night Moves" playing]
♪ I woke last night ♪
♪ To the sound of thunder ♪
♪ How far off, I sat and wondered ♪
♪ Started humming a song from 1962 ♪
♪ Ain't it funny how the night moves? ♪
♪ When you just don't seem to have ♪
♪ As much to lose ♪
♪ Strange how the night moves ♪
[door sliding]
[vehicles whooshing in distance]
♪ With autumn closing in ♪
["Night Moves" playing over speaker]
♪ Mm ♪
♪ Night moves... ♪
Batter up. Phone's awake.
♪ Night moves ♪
[singing along] ♪ Working on the night moves ♪
♪ Night moves... ♪
♪ pulsing, suspenseful music ♪
♪
[Grandpa] Signal's gone.
Elevator? Parking garage?
New software.
Even if he gets on the subway,
sends out a Wi-Fi signal, relays it.
It'll come back. He can't get far.
Underground.
- Excuse me? - Uh, you said "subway."
It's the called the "underground," or the "tube."
Is that right? I said "subway"?
- Yeah. - Did that-that irritate you?
That I said "subway"? Didn't you just say "elevator"?
♪
[speaking inaudibly]
Evening, Mr. Lewis.
Your guest arrived half an hour ago.
Thank you.
[Sami] Let's pretend
this coffee is just like the coffee in Addis.
- What's wrong? - [sighs]
- I'm just tired. - Are you okay?
I have a deadline. My publisher's going nuts.
Wait. You-you finished?
No, uh, three chapters.
It was going fine.
Then I hit a bump.
- Well, congratulations. - Why?
You have writer's block.
So that means you're a real writer.
Well, you know what they say is good for writer's block?
Hmm?
Ask anyone.
[whispers] They will all tell you.
♪ slow, somber music ♪
♪
[grunts softly]
Okay.
So, how's your course going?
My course?
Well, let's see. Generally speaking?
The lectures are dry, tedious,
mind-numbing and/or deathly dull.
But you're getting by.
I guess I have a high boredom threshold.
Don't take that the wrong way.
- Samia-- - I dreamt about you.
Not about you, about us.
We had a little apartment at the top of the stairs.
There was a bathtub in the kitchen.
Anyway, we were in the tub,
the sun was shining.
You looked at me...
...and you smiled.
- And-- - [phone ringing]
Don't answer it.
Why not?
- Because. - Because what?
[ringing continues]
Shall I answer it?
[ringing continues]
♪ slow, atmospheric music ♪
♪
- Hello? - [Henry over phone] It's me.
[chuckles] Wow.
Thought I was off the clock.
Come downstairs.
[hangs up phone]
Who was it?
- You're not gonna believe this. - Paul.
- Not in a million-- - Tell me, who was it?
My publisher.
[scoffs] What?
It's... it's-it's nearly midnight.
His office is around the corner.
I told him he could find me here.
He just needs to shout at me before he flies
to the Frankfurt book fair.
[exhales]
Give me ten minutes.
Tell him you have writer's block.
♪ dark, eerie music ♪
♪
You killed your phone.
And you tracked me.
How? CCTV?
Which I should not have to do.
Like I shouldn't be tailed by a couple of morons.
I'm not hiding. You called, I picked up.
- After-- - [man] Harry?
- Excuse me. - [busy chatter]
After dropping off the map for hours.
Jesus Christ.
- You slipped your tail. - So get a better one.
What difference does it make if I'm here or at home?
I checked the register.
You're signed in as Paul Lewis?
[busy chatter continues]
♪ dark, eerie music ♪
♪
[sets cups down]
[Martian] The woman up in the room,
- she's married. - And you thought you'd use
your covert Agency legend to fuck her.
I mean, I'm out here saying you don't have PMD,
and then, poof, like magic, in walks Paul Lewis.
Henry.
Gadding around, banging married women?
Why are you using a defunct identity to--
[stammers]
Martian, I cannot know this.
Then stop following me.
You deployed undercover for years.
People come back damaged from that.
Can't sleep. Flashbacks.
Some go absolute raving fucking lunatic insane.
Therefore, we have protocols.
For instance, we follow you.
This has to stop.
- I understand. - No, I mean it.
You get one for free. Two, you're on your own.
[distant siren wailing]
Where are you going?
- To say goodbye. - No.
- [chuckles] I have to explain-- - Martian.
- I have to explain why I left. - Walk away.
- Henry. - Walk away, Martian.
It'll make it worse. She'll be suspicious.
No, it will not. You know why?
Because Paul Lewis doesn't exist.
He turns the corner,
and he's gone forever.
It was a fuck.
You made a mistake.
You acknowledge the error in judgment,
and you thank me for understanding.
This isn't national security. It's personal.
It's the Agency.
Nothing is personal!
♪ pulsing, dramatic music ♪
♪
Ladbroke Grove, please.
[Blair] When you're done with breakfast,
there's a safe house.
It's a farm out of London.
We'll provide food and a therapist.
We had no choice, Alexei. I hope you understand--
No choice. No choice?
How about I tie you to a fucking chair?!
Three years!
Three years of loyalty!
You pitiless, soulless ghouls!
I will never work for you again. Hear me?!
- Never! - You have to put this back on.
Fuck you!
[muffled] Don't fucking touch me!
Get your hands off me!
[newswoman] Again the Ukrainian army is
on the defensive and digging in
to hold on to key cities in the east of the country.
[Emily] Henry?
[newswoman] This includes Pokrov,
which is seen as strategically important to fighting...
Henry?
[newscast continues indistinctly]
What's wrong?
I have a Zoom with Charlie, but the link's down.
[tapping keys]
I can't find him.
[sighs]
Mm, it's probably just a server glitch.
He's never missed a time.
You're right, it's probably a glitch or something.
It'll pop up later.
- I have to go to work. - Mm-hmm.
Love you.
Love you, too.
You know, you've... you've got that look.
[scoffs] What look?
The cowboy who's been shot but isn't gonna let anyone know.
I'm just a little tired.
Charlie's okay, right?
You don't know anything?
I know bad news travels.
I know he has a lot of people watching over him.
And I know I'm not one of them.
See ya.
♪ somber, intriguing music ♪
♪
[door opens, closes]
[Bosko] Coyote's network appears sound.
The live missions we put on hold
while we verified operational security
are back online.
Thunderbird, Rattlebox, Niagra.
Uh, all except Felix.
I received your direct order on that.
You know, Felix is the ball game.
I can count on the fingers of one hand
how many people know about it, including POTUS.
I understand.
Felix is an operation of extreme sensitivity.
Meanwhile, you still don't have your agent back.
[sighs softly]
Not as yet, no. No, sir.
This briefing is adjourned
and will recommence in ten minutes, in The Cube.
Yes, sir.
Get me the boys down in SIGINT.
[Ben] Uh-huh.
Yes, sir.
Big Man in the Cube. Ten minutes.
[Simon] World War III?
Well, that or an alien invasion.
- Okay, let's go. - Okay.
[man] They're ready for you, sir.
[indistinct chatter]
♪ tense, pulsing music ♪
♪
All set?
Yes. Uh, so once the door's locked,
the system boots for biometric log-in--
Yeah, I know, I know.
[door closes]
- Morning. - Hey, look, it's my stalker.
Can you keep a secret?
[scoffs] I forgot about your sense of humor.
I fucked up.
Recently. For personal reasons.
I owned it, put it right.
We're not machines.
Yet.
[Bosko] James Bradley,
Chief London station.
How you doing in there?
Cozy.
You ready to rock?
Yes, sir.
This is a, uh, briefing
on the top secret operation code-named Felix.
[radio static buzzes]
[JSOC operative] The Reaper footage shows
they were chased into the quarry by two Russian Tigr APCs.
Ten minute firefight.
After which, two Tigrs exit the quarry onto the main road.
- Alone. - All comms are blackout?
They followed protocol
for emergency abort and went dark.
Assuming they follow protocol
to the letter, what next? Go to ground?
For 48 hours, then resume their extraction route.
We keep the route open, pray they make contact.
Well, we can do more than pray. We can find them.
How recent are these maps?
[scanner beeps]
All of these military units are on the move, right?
[JSOC operative] The front has moved at several
key flash points.
This entire area is now deep behind enemy lines.
That puts conventional search and rescue,
helicopters, drones, all off the menu.
Three guys, trained to vanish,
in thousands of square miles of open country.
Needle, meet haystack.
[Henry] Felix is on pause, so that gives us some time.
Felix is active.
Since when?
Felix is a mission of the utmost sensitivity.
The capture of these operatives would constitute an immediate
strategic geopolitical disaster. We have to get them back.
It's crucial to national security,
but even more crucial is that we do not,
under any circumstances, reveal their covert activity.
You find them. Bring them back.
Whatever it takes.
[radio static pulsing]
[rapid gunfire in distance]
[Boutenko] That way. Quick.
On the right, on the right. You see it? There.
[engine shuts off]
[ignition sputtering]
Yeah.
- [engine starts] - [whoops]
♪ tense, dramatic music ♪
♪
[Koval] The front line is moving daily.
We could easily run into another control point or patrol.
I'm more worried about spotter drones.
Now, we need to move,
but being on the road, we're an obvious target.
- What's that? - Stop the car. Stop the car.
That's armor on the move.
- Russian tanks. - [Boutenko] Fuck.
Turn us around.
This whole section is crawling with Red Army.
[Charlie] I'm gonna show you what to do.
I want you to drive ten klicks.
We're going to find woodland or forest.
- Okay. And then what? - Then we vanish.
All right? We go dark.
Go. Go, go. Get us out of here.
[radio static pulsing]
♪ soaring, dramatic music ♪
♪
- [Blake] Martian. - Dr. Blake.
- Did you forget? - Unfortunately,
right now, I have other priorities,
one of which is national security.
I'm sorry. I'll rearrange.
Owen.
- Hmm? - Talk to me about long-range IR.
Specifically?
We have satellites over Ukraine with infrared cameras.
Gambit 3, Lanyard 9 and Hexagon.
- But-- - But?
If you're looking for a human being, you can forget it.
The resolution on even most advanced kit
is only about 20 meters.
- Shit. - I know.
What's with the plastic?
Incontinence.
[Henry] Langley briefed you.
On Felix.
- I can neither confirm nor deny. - Right.
From the look on your face, I-I can... imagine.
Yes, I imagine you can.
How... warm...
- [scoffing] - ...am I?
Look, I'm not asking you to...
Fuck it. Forget it.
Forget it.
Henry.
There are 170,000 words in the English language.
Each year, 2,000 of them become obsolete.
And in the-the great verbal bathtub
of our collective being,
presently circling around that open drain
are these words:
"stoicism,"
"fortitude,"
"duty," "honor," "sacrifice."
I know how hard this is for you right now.
Heart versus job.
Soul versus duty.
That's where they put us.
Or where we put ourselves.
Either way, I know it, you know it.
Charlie does, too.
He signed up for this.
We all did.
- Yeah. - [door closes]
♪ slow, atmospheric music ♪
♪
[phone vibrating]
[indistinct TV chatter]
[door opens]
[man over TV] That guy wasn't just going fast.
[men over TV] He was going Tony Fast!
- [siren wailing over TV] - [SpongeBob] Huh? Oh, no.
The cops are after us. What are we gonna do?
[Tony Jr.] What? Sorry, I couldn't hear you
- over that siren. - [Martian] Hey.
- Hey. - Good day?
- Eh, you know. - [Tony Jr.] What's that?
I couldn't hear you over that helicopter.
- You been out? - Hmm?
[tires screech over TV]
[SpongeBob shouts]
[Martian] Poppy.
- What? - I asked you a question.
Have you been out today?
Uh, no.
[Larry] Sweet. Instant tannage.
- Uh, I was watching that. - [TV shuts off]
The entire apartment reeks of weed.
I walk in the door, you're sitting there,
Cheetos, SpongeBob.
What the hell is going on, Pop?
- Flat. - What?
You said "apartment." It's a flat.
Okay.
- Your eyes are bright red. - [sighs]
My eyes are,
and have always been, cobalt blue.
Perhaps you forgot.
This one,
age 11, turned slightly bluey-green.
I don't smoke weed.
Impedes ambition and stunts a growing brain.
It's the neighbors. Guy next door.
- Classic Bohemian. - It's not the neighbors.
Yeah, trust me.
It's coming through the air vent.
Speaking of which, found this.
♪ slow, suspenseful music ♪
I was looking for somewhere to hide my stash.
My "ganje."
And I thought, "He'll never look here.
Not in a million years."
Great minds, huh?
What, you thought I spent the entire day
just eating Cheetos?
Mr. SquarePants was my cover.
After you left, I tore this place apart.
I went through drawers, cupboards, everything.
Nine hours.
The air vent was the last place I looked.
Aren't you worried that a kid
can figure out your supersecret hiding place?
Although I doubt the KGB is searching with
half the motive that I have.
'Cause let's face it, there's national secrets
and then there's "who the fuck your dad is."
Yeah.
You caught me.
I lied. Sorry.
Because we should be honest with each other, shouldn't we?
Otherwise, what the fuck are we doing here, Paul?
♪ dark, suspenseful music ♪
♪
[grunts]
Do you know this place isn't bugged?
Do you know who's listening?
- This isn't a game. - [whimpers]
[panting]
- I'm sorry. - [exhales]
I'm sorry.
- [grunting] - Poppy.
[exhales]
- Poppy. Poppy. - [whimpering]
- [phone vibrating] - [door opens]
[door closes]
[phone beeps]
- Hey. - [Sami] What happened?
Where did you go?
Uh, my publisher's a jumpy guy.
He told me to go straight home or he'd cancel the book.
[Sami scoffs] And you couldn't call?
Listen, can you meet me tomorrow afternoon?
♪ slow, somber music ♪
♪
[busy chatter]
Langley's reviewing all intel
from sources recruited by Coyote.
Russian subs in the Med, Lukashenko's visit to Qatar,
the Spetsnaz bases in the Donbas,
the Baltic Cooperation Council, all of it.
If Coyote's rogue,
half our intel on Ukraine is corrupt.
If not, and his cover's blown,
we've got more people with their head in the noose
than just Felix.
How's Martian settling in?
He's fine.
No speed bumps?
You're not his handler anymore.
It's not always easy to switch off.
You mean for him or for you?
Both, I guess.
♪ intriguing music ♪
♪
[elevator doors slide open]
Hey. How you doing?
Morning, sir.
Hey, so, how are the digs?
- Not too poky, I hope. - Eh, it's fine.
Yeah. Yeah, that's good to hear.
Yeah, it's... You're up in the Tower, right?
The Lauderdale at the Barbican.
Ah. Okay.
Hanging out with your kid, your daughter, right?
- Poppy. - Yeah.
Yeah. Well, that's great.
That's great.
I'm glad it's working out.
The apartment, I mean.
The flat.
[Naomi] Sometimes when you wind a mission up that fast,
there's fallout.
And was there?
No. I mean, I think he was a little thrown
by the speed of it all.
Martian was just pissed that he got shut down.
Well, he dealt. He's a pro.
[Bosko] Anything you want to talk about,
my door's open, okay?
- Thank you. - Henry.
Morning.
- You told him. - [scanner beeps]
Piss off, mate.
Then who did?
Not me.
Who?
Take a wild guess.
- Grandma. - Or?
- Grandpa. - Or?
Both.
- Morons, huh? - [sighs]
Don't blame me. I-I believed you.
♪ slow, atmospheric music ♪
♪
[Henry] Supposing the network is sound,
it doesn't mean that Coyote is.
Belarusian service were trained for decades by the KGB.
They know how to run game.
So, Langley thinks
Coyote is a double who got pulled home.
Fed us fake intel and we ate it up.
- [Henry] For years. - [Blake] You knew him.
What would make him vulnerable to turning?
[Owen] On the surface?
- Nothing. - What about below the surface?
Coverts flip for two reasons.
One, ideology, two, a bag of money.
Only one in a hundred is ideology.
There's a third reason.
Only other reason I've known someone to flip,
betray their country, is-is love.
♪
I know how to find Felix.
Two Ukrainian SF kids and one senior Delta.
So he's calling the shots.
He won't want to move far. Moving risks engagement.
Draw a 20-kilometer radius.
Discount buildings, open ground.
Section every wood larger than three acres.
Search dead centers of these sections.
That's our haystack.
Get time code from surveillance satellites
and planes that Owen's already on.
I've got the raw data ready to search.
Look for single car-sized heat patterns
that are stationary then vanish within five minutes.
The Russians have drones up with IR cameras.
Deltas are trained to pour water on an engine block
to cut the heat signature.
That's our needle.
♪ intriguing music ♪
♪
Thank you.
[man] Have a good day.
♪ fast, intense music ♪
♪
[drone buzzing]
[steam hissing]
[thunder rumbles]
[drone buzzing in distance]
Get down. Get down, get down.
[exhales sharply]
[drone buzzing]
[buzzing continues in distance]
No, that's not a random pattern.
Should we move?
It'll follow us.
[Boutenko] Vehicle. Two klicks out.
Off-road. Moving fast.
- Inbound. - [device beeping]
♪ slow, somber music ♪
♪
What do we do?
It's your war, boys.
You call it.
I say we take position and fight.
Seconded?
All right.
See you on the other side.
♪
[Koval] Quick. I hear it.
[bird squawking]
♪ slow, suspenseful music ♪
♪
[Koval] I have the shot.
Do we engage?
[Charlie] Wait.
On my command.
Can't identify. Wait.
[brakes squeaking]
Hold fire.
Movement.
Hold fire.
Friendlies. Do not engage.
[car door closes]
Count to 50. It's our turn to hide.
[thunder rumbles]
Who's this?
Resistance.
They can supply you with papers and take you to a clinic
where the target is due to arrive in a week.
Our mission's back on?
So it seems.
[chuckles softly]
[Blake] I'm happy you made time for this.
These sessions are an important part
of the process of reentry,
and it gives everyone, including you,
the opportunity to gauge where you are,
where you've been and... where you're going to.
Should we dive in?
Before we begin, I want to make something clear.
I've done this many times.
I've met with many, many returning agents,
and they broadly fall into two categories:
those who engage in the process and those who resist.
It's...
It's pretty clear which category you fall into.
What is your question, Doctor?
Do you see these sessions as...
some sort of hurdle, something you have to game?
On the contrary.
My chosen career is a psychological tightrope walk
over a pit of fire. [chuckles]
I need all the help I can get.
- How long were you undercover? - This last hop, six years.
- What was your name? - Paul Lewis.
So for six years, you were Paul Lewis.
Yes.
How does it feel to suddenly be Brandon again?
- What do you mean? - What do you think I mean?
Well, I'm not sure. See, I was always Brandon.
You had an ordinary life out there?
No. It just had to look like one.
And the friends you met?
- You leave 'em behind. - How?
Same way you end any friendship.
Reply to emails less. Be distant.
People forget.
And sexual relationships?
You've read my file.
Samia. How do you cope with that?
Speak to your postman. It's a process.
Are you aware that you're giving brief,
some might even say curt, replies to my questions?
[laughs] I am now.
[Blake sighs]
Your daughter, Poppy, how is she coping?
"Coping"?
Her father returns after years away,
she's going from a child to a young woman,
now you're back...
Do you want to talk about that?
- May I say something? - Of course.
Psychotherapy is a set of psychological methods
that use regular personal interaction
to induce behavioral changes, overcome problems
and increase happiness.
I believe that's how Wikipedia
defines psychotherapy, word for word.
So a normal psychotherapist is hoping
to increase happiness and overcome problems.
I'm a clinical psychologist, but I know where you're going.
Good. Can I go?
[stammers]
Please. My apologies. Continue.
You said just now there are two types of agent.
Broadly speaking.
I was speaking about something very specific.
Why are you shutting me down, Doctor?
- I'm-- - I'm trying to--
- Okay. - I'm trying to say something
and you don't want me to say it.
- No, I'm not. - Yes, you are.
[chuckling] I'm...
Well...
anyone watching the tape of this session,
anyone who isn't you, may not agree with that.
They may think you're being defensive.
This is not my first rodeo.
It's not a rodeo.
[Blake] Anyone watching this tape
might think I was being defensive.
That's their right.
They might also sense aggression.
Anger. Frustration. Pain.
You think it's possible that you're the one
who's being defensive?
That you may have something to defend?
Perhaps even to hide?
Okay, I think...
You said there's two types of agent.
I believe there's one.
The insane.
Go and pretend to be someone you're not.
Lie to everyone.
Risk your life on a daily basis.
Then come home, just fucking deal.
No glamour, no money, no exploding watch.
A nation needs protecting, it builds an organization.
The CIA, this Department...
it seeks us out, targets us.
Individuals who need something.
Something they can't get anyplace else.
It nurtures us, weans us, feeds us
and sends us out into the world to behave
in entirely unhealthy, devious, deviant, dangerous ways.
And then when we come back, it asks us how we feel.
And all the while, it's hoping
we don't suddenly flip and become well
and can no longer do the job.
You're not trying to help me, Doctor.
You're worried I may have somehow become sane.
Well, I can assure you
the person sitting in front of you
is, was, will remain purely, deeply,
identifiably 100% nuts.
Not too nuts. Not "burst in here and shoot everyone" nuts.
Just nuts enough.
♪ slow, somber music ♪
♪
Can I go now?
[busy chatter]
Hi. Uh, one ticket for Catch-22.
[waves lapping softly on-screen]
[audience member coughs]
♪ slow, atmospheric music ♪
♪
[pained grunt]
[whispering] That's for running off.
- [engines running] - [bugle playing]
How was class?
Same.
I went.
They hadn't seen you. You haven't been going.
Wait, first you run off, and now you're stalking me?
I thought we could have dinner. I went to pick you up.
- Nice surprise-- - Playing the jealous husband?
I already have one of those.
Why are you lying?
I skipped because it's pointless.
[siren wailing]
I don't need a European academic explaining my subject to me.
So why enroll in the first place?
To get a grant.
But why did I want to get away?
From my life, from being scared?
I was blown up, Paul.
Shot at.
I saw people get killed.
Surely you of all people would understand
- why I would want to run away. - So say that.
Why lie and try to sell it to me?
It's not a lie.
[scoffs]
[engine whirring]
Enjoy the film.
[plane engine sputtering]
[Martian] Why are you really running?
[Sami] Are you even listening to me?
[Martian] What do you do all day?
Be specific.
Why am I being interrogated?
Are you in London because you knew I'm here?
If so, how did you know?
I had no idea. You called me.
You could've been in London waiting for me to call you. Hey.
You think I would fly all the way here
just to sit and wait in case maybe you call me,
after months and months of silence?
Well, did you?
[Sami scoffs]
♪ tense music ♪
♪
I never thought I would see you again.
Do I ask you where you live?
Why we only meet when and where you say?
What you do all day?
Why you just vanished?
This isn't working.
♪ dark electronic music ♪
♪
[seagulls squawking]
♪
♪ slow, atmospheric music ♪
♪
[Osman faintly] Samia!
Yeah, Samia!
Samia!
[gearshift clicks]
♪
♪ dramatic music ♪
♪