Pennyworth (2019) s02e04 Episode Script

1
[Daveboy] He's a canny man,
that Troy.
They make good money, robbers.
He likes the edge of it
too much for my taste.
[Troy] I've got two big jobs
coming up.
You can come and join us.
- What about me?
- What about you?
Do I look like you expected?
Well, no offense, Mrs. Troy,
I didn't know you existed.
[John] Potter was simply
a hastily elected prime minister.
He was well liked, sure,
but weak.
Nobody wanted him dead.
You son of a bitch.
[Sykes] I got into an argy-bargy
with a bloke from work.
Long story short, I killed him.
Go to this address with your best men.
Pick her up and bring her here.
[Frances] Well, Colonel Salt.
Tell me about these
"speculative" gases of yours.
- [gas hissing]
- [screaming]
If the Stormcloud project
is put into action,
it must seem efficient and humane.
Who took our money?
I don't know. I swear, I don't know.
[Alfred] He's got our money.
Let's go get it back.
[Bazza] I need you to do me one favor.
Don't give up.
You'll get to America in the end.
[Alfred] It should have been me.
[Daveboy] You're bloody right
it should have been you.
This is all your fucking fault.
No, it's not.
Of course it is!
Money, money, money, money
That's all you care about.
And that's what's got him killed.
It was an accident.
No such thing as accidents.
You're not being fair.
You big fucking baby.
Fair?
You've killed the poor man
and now you're whinging about fair?
Should be fucking ashamed of yourself.
It wasn't my fault.
And if Bazza was here,
he'd tell you the same thing.
[Bazza] Like hell I would.
I told you, you should watch a while,
get the lay of the land.
But would you listen?
No, Daveboy's right.
Money, money, money.
That's all you care about.
Get to America, whatever it costs.
Well, this is the cost, my friend.
This is the cost.
But
But you said we had to go.
You made me promise
that we'll get to America.
[Bazza] I was just trying
to make you feel better.
You think I give a damn
if you get to America?
I'm dead.
I'm dead, Alfie!
Yeah. Well, I'm not.
I'm alive. And I'm going to America.
So you can fuck off!
[gasps]
Get the fuck
I'm so sorry, Alfie.
Daveboy.
He'd look you in the eye, that one.
And listen.
Wise beyond his years.
A real gentleman.
Highland Single Malt.
Smooth.
Just like you, you bastard.
[speaking Irish]
[Daveboy whistling]
[Alfred speaking English] Leave it out.
Bazza always hated your shit whistling.
Well, he's not complaining.
Sandra, give us some "Lili Marlene,"
would you?
[singing]
Underneath the lantern
By the barrack gate
Darling, I remember
The way you used to wait
'Twas there that you whispered
Tenderly
That you loved me
You'd always be
My Lili of the lamplight
My own Lili Marlene
Time would come for roll call
Time for us to part
[Troy] Lost comrades.
Thanks for coming.
I'm sorry, Mr. Pennyworth.
Shall we
Oh, Christ, I hate funerals. Don't you?
[Alfred] Yeah.
When I go, they can toss me in a ditch.
[chuckles] I expect they shall,
villainous character like you.
What happened?
Ten years of jungle combat,
and Bazza gets done in
by a greedy cocktail waitress.
It was my fault.
I cocked it up.
Didn't look at all the angles.
Went in too quick.
Bazza said so himself,
but I didn't listen.
Oh.
I've led God knows how many lads
into places like these.
You can't let it bother you, old chap.
Doesn't bother me.
I'm just facing facts.
Let's get down to business, shall we?
How's that?
You hate funerals.
You never could take no for an answer,
and you know we lost that cash.
You've come here to recruit me.
Astute as ever.
You know,
if you weren't such a low ruffian,
you'd have made a splendid officer.
I'm getting to America.
One way or another.
If you've got something
that can make that happen, I'm in.
I might just have something.
You might wanna think about leaving
your scruples with the hat-check girl.
Fuck scruples.
But just so we're clear,
as soon as I've made enough money
to get out of here, I'm done.
[theme music playing]
[grunts]
This very minute
I should be parading
down the streets of Manchester.
And what am I doing?
Reading progress reports.
Well, progress, my arse.
Since Norwich,
we've made no fucking progress at all.
We've been wasting our resources
on Manchester and the North.
If London falls,
the northern cities will surrender.
Agreed. So how can we make London fall?
A full-scale artillery bombardment,
air strikes,
followed by tanks and storm troopers
would do the trick.
We've been over this before, General.
What is the point of taking London
if we must first destroy it?
It is the capital,
- not some northern industrial slum.
- [Harwood] She's right.
History will judge us very harshly.
- I hesitate to raise this option, sir
- Yes. Then don't raise it, Salt.
As you say, madam.
Forgive my forwardness.
Frances, Salt is a very clever chap.
Let him speak.
He's going to raise
that filthy Stormcloud business.
- I won't have it.
- Oh.
Oh, you won't have it?
I think I'll be the judge of
what you have and what you do not have.
I'm in charge, am I not?
- Yes, of course, Jimmy.
- Salt, speak.
Thank you, sir.
I was going to say, given the situation,
if our prime objective
is winning this war,
Stormcloud may be
our only viable option.
Damn it, Jimmy,
- I told you
- You told me?
You told me?
I am the High Chancellor of England!
You do not tell me anything!
Nobody tells me what to do!
- [Harwoood coughing]
- [Frances] Jimmy, are you all right?
Jimmy. Jimmy, are you all right?
- I'm perfectly fine.
- I'm so sorry if I've upset you.
Leave me alone!
Get out! All of you!
[Harwood coughing]
Thank you, Salt.
She's a good woman,
just bloody-minded and stubborn.
As you say, sir.
- You sound dubious.
- Not at all.
Mrs. Gaunt's principles are impeccable.
She'll stand by them
whatever the cost to herself,
or those around her.
Talking of stubborn women
where's Bet Sykes?
Our men went to meet her,
but she disappeared.
We're making enquiries now.
Typical.
She's flighty, that one.
Keep me informed.
Wakey, wakey.
Much appreciated, pet.
You're a diamond.
- Will I see you again?
- Doubt it, but you never know.
Don't look so glum.
We're here now.
It'll be tea and crumpets
with my sister from now on.
Besides, we're with your lot now.
League territory.
Mind you, don't tell who I am,
though, eh?
Fuck. This is Peg's house.
[Katie sighs]
What now?
"What now?" "What now?" "What now?"
You're doing me fucking head in.
Sorry.
I'm sorry.
No call to shout at you.
I'm just flummoxed.
Come here.
Do you trust me?
[Katie] Sort of.
- May I come in?
- I'm on my way out.
I won't be long.
[Martha] Make it quick.
The League council
are electing a new prime minister.
As you may have heard,
the last one killed himself.
Again, I apologize.
Look, I wouldn't have come.
I know I'm not your favorite person,
- but I need your help.
- No.
It's not a business matter.
It's personal.
I need you to come to a party.
[scoffs] A date?
Are you out of your crypto-fascist mind?
It's Patricia's birthday.
She's in London, and in trouble.
What's happened? Is she okay?
She's gotten herself involved
with a new man.
Jacques Duval, he calls himself.
A copper-bottomed shit.
Yeah, well, it takes one to know one.
He's a fashion designer.
Hair down to his shoulders,
pointy shoes,
slept with half the women in London.
What? So he likes sex.
It's not like he's a devil worshipper.
- I thought you'd be more sympathetic.
- There's a war on.
We could all be dead tomorrow.
If she's getting laid, it's just
It's just good for her.
- This is my sister you're talking about.
- Yes.
The least tiresome of the Waynes.
Try to relax.
- Reputations get exaggerated.
- Not this one.
This Duval character
got chased out of Gotham
for bedding one of the Elliot heiresses.
She was 13.
Jesus.
Really?
Well, how do you know that?
My sources.
Sources?
You got the CIA involved.
Don't be ridiculous.
The Wayne lawyers.
So, will you help me or not?
My comrades will be
picking me up any minute.
Look, Martha, I am truly sorry
about what happened
to Archbishop Potter. I am.
But I don't know
how many more disappointments
Patricia has left in her.
Maybe you think I'm petty.
But undermining democracy
and all that
it's kinda hard to get over.
And anyway, if Patricia needs my help,
then she can ask me herself.
I'm going to the party. She invited me.
Why didn't you say that
in the first place?
And from this point on,
she's the only Wayne I'll be talking to.
In conclusion,
as we say west of the Tamar
[speaking other language]
[in English] Thank you, Mr. Penhaligon.
Our next candidate for prime minister
is Mr. John Ripper.
Good afternoon, Your Majesty,
ladies and gentlemen.
I've got no fancy speeches to make.
The time has passed for fine words.
All of us here are only alive today
because Harwood doesn't want
to destroy his future home.
I'm a practical man.
And what I have to offer here today
are practical solutions to our problems.
Who the devil are they?
Carry on, lads.
[both grunting]
[all exclaiming]
[screaming]
- [bones crack]
- [all exclaiming]
[panting]
- Well done, Charlie.
- Explain yourself, Mr. Ripper.
Charlie and Mike were cellmates
in Pentonville Prison.
I offered them a royal pardon
to the last man standing.
You don't have that authority.
No, but you do.
And we've got thousands
of talented, enthusiastic killers
clogging up our prisons.
Put 'em on buses,
send them to Union strongholds
in Preston, Birmingham, Norfolk.
Give them weapons and set them free!
And they'll do in a few days
what it would take an entire army
years to do.
Unleashing hordes
of criminal psychopaths on England?
- Not cricket, really. Is it?
- No, Your Majesty.
It's not cricket.
But we're not here to play cricket.
It is time to put the boot in,
as we say.
Spill some claret!
If you elect me leader of the League,
I promise you, that's what we'll do.
We'll put the boot in, hard and heavy!
That's my manifesto.
Mr. Aziz. Your turn to speak.
Mr. Ripper is right, Your Majesty.
War
is not cricket.
I would like to dismiss
Mr. Ripper's plan on moral grounds,
but I can't.
They say, rightly,
that there are no atheists in foxholes.
But there are no saints either.
We use bullets and bombs.
Why not use this villain
and his friends here, hm?
Mr. Ripper's villains
would win us many battles.
But they would not win the war.
If vile atrocities
and brutish sadism won wars,
we'd all be speaking German.
Must we defeat monsters
by becoming monsters ourselves?
No.
Love, compassion, the liberal virtues
are our greatest weapons.
Not because they're virtues, but because
they will win out in the end.
If we were all to die tomorrow,
what I say would still hold true.
In the fullness of time,
other good people
will rise to take up our banners
and fight on.
And we shall win out in the end
because humanity is with us.
Very moving, Mr. Aziz.
But what do we actually do?
We fight.
All of us here, we fight.
And we hold London at all costs.
While we do,
this good woman
is the rightful queen of England,
and we are the rightful
government of England.
[all cheering]
- [upbeat music playing]
- [indistinct chatter]
Patricia.
Happy birthday.
- Thank you.
- It's a hat.
Oh.
Thank you.
I cannot wait for you to meet him.
[Thomas] Well, likewise, I guess.
What am I to do
I'm in the middle of nowhere
Getting nowhere with you
Jacques, darling,
- this
- Olive
Less vermouth this time.
No, Jacques. This is my brother.
Sorry.
I just assumed, the penguin suit.
Martha. How are you?
Okay. Thomas Wayne.
Doll, agree with me.
I was just telling Martha
she's got real potential.
- Mm-hm.
- I'm gonna dress her.
Thanks, but no. I'm okay with how I am.
But look what I did with Patty.
It's a masterpiece, no?
You're right. No.
Oh. Oh, I like him, Patty.
Uptight, but witty.
Very rare combination.
So, are the two of you back together?
We never were together.
[Patricia] Oh, please.
You're dying to fuck each other.
- Anyone can tell.
- Patricia!
No, no. You're way off-base. Trust me.
Oh, pooh. Now that Tommy's dumped
that absurd Betsy person,
you can get together.
Go for it, children.
- It's not gonna happen.
- So fierce.
But, mon Dieu,
what's with the dreary clothes?
Shorter, tighter. More color.
- It's got to happen, Marsha.
- It's Martha.
- And it's not gonna happen.
- He doesn't take no for an answer.
[Jacques] No, I do not.
I'm very forceful when I need to be.
I'll come to your apartment,
bring a selection.
Thanks, but no.
Oh, shh, my little wallflower.
I'll bring the chic, you bring
that fabulously lithe body of yours.
Boom. We'll create some magic.
Ciao.
Okay. He's heinous.
Thank you.
I know how hard it is
for you to agree with me.
So, things didn't work out with Betsy?
No, they didn't.
- Sorry to hear that.
- Yeah.
I wouldn't worry about Patricia.
She'll see through him
in a couple of weeks.
Even she can see
that he's a complete and utter
[Patricia whooping]
Yes, yes, yes!
I will.
Yes! I love you!
Somewhere to be?
Yeah. A job on, as it happens.
Middle of the night?
Chadley'll put you in a cab.
Barely see you these days.
Well, you're always rehearsing,
aren't you?
The job
Is it with that bloke from the funeral?
Never ask me about jobs.
I don't trust him, Alfie.
I do.
Leave it at that.
I know you're sad about Bazza
but you don't have to be so cold.
Yeah. I am sad about Bazza.
And cold.
I'm sorry.
I've told you before.
You should leave me.
Don't be silly.
What would you do without me?
Serious.
I'm no good for you.
Just need time.
You'll be all right.
[door closes]
[dramatic music playing]
- [tires screech]
- [woman crying]
[man] Make way for the Lord Mayor.
Clear the road!
Have a heart, mate.
She's just lost her husband.
[woman] Oh, God!
I say
Clear the fucking road now!
Keep your hair on.
Get out.
Fire in the hole!
[coughing]
Fucking Mayor!
You'll go to the Tower.
Every one of you!
It's empty.
Up! Up!
Good evening, Mr. Mayor.
Where is it?
Where's what?
[Troy] The money.
There is no money.
I do hope for your sake
that that's a lie.
Take your hands off me!
Where is it?
I'm gonna have
your innards on a brazier.
I'll have your heads on spikes.
Where is it?
Where is it?
Easy, Alfie!
Where is it?
Stand down, son. He can't answer
if he's dead, now, can he?
[Alfred] You've got till three.
One
two
three!
[mumbles]
[mayor] The step. It's in the step.
[panting]
[Sykes] Holy shit. Yeah.
I didn't come out the fucking gutter
to go back.
Disgusting.
I've been thinking
Ooh-ah?
What about?
We're not going to find your sister
just wandering around.
Maybe we should split up.
Split up?
How does that help find her?
Look, it's really nice of you
to look after me.
And I'm truly grateful, I am,
but this is League territory.
I'm safe now.
Well, good for you.
I'm not.
I know, but what use am I to you?
There is such a thing
as moral support, you know.
I thought we were friends.
We are.
We are, I mean, kind of.
Kind of?
Why won't you tell me
anything about your past?
I said, it's boring.
Did something bad happen
when you were little?
Something that damaged you?
Because sometimes you're nice
Sometimes you're just mad.
Mad?
Me?
I thought we were friends.
Any road.
You're safe now.
Be good.
[groaning]
Bloody hell.
Don't see that every day.
Poor love. Right state, eh?
Help us.
Please, madam, call the police.
Don't fret.
Help is on the way.
[Katie] What are you doing?
Hello, it's you, is it?
[chuckles] What are you doing?
I'm mad, me.
I thought, I know,
I'll give the Lord Mayor a scragging.
Help us.
Result.
Things are looking up, eh?
We'll have a nice breakfast.
[Katie] Shouldn't we call the police?
[Sykes] Why?
[Katie] They need help.
[Sykes] Soft as a bun, you.
[line ringing]
Let me try it, Laura.
[Sykes] That's her.
- Bet?
- Peggy.
Where the hell have you been?
We were worried sick.
Round and about, you know.
Called your work, they said
you were on the run for murder.
It's not murder
if I'm in the right, is it?
Who's this, then?
It's me friend, Katie.
She's an artist.
Is she?
Hello, nice to meet you.
She's all right.
Maybe she is. Maybe she isn't.
She's an odd duck if she's with you.
You know, this one's mad as a hatter.
I know, but she's been very good to me.
Has she?
Dear, oh, dear.
Give us a minute.
I've told her nowt about me past
before we met, and you'll do likewise.
You never learn, do you?
I don't need none of your sauce.
We've other avenues to explore
if we want.
Like hell you do.
Nice to meet you, Katie.
You'd best come in before your
girlfriend here murders someone else.
Go on. In you go.
Straight through.
[door opens]
[Frances] Jimmy?
[gasps softly]
Oh.
Frances. You gave me a fright.
I bring news from London.
The League have elected
a new prime minister.
A policeman, of all things. Victor Aziz.
Aziz? Dear God.
That's the blighter who had me arrested
and thrown into the Tower.
I suppose they wish to punish me
by appointing him, of all people.
I shouldn't think it was intentional.
I was tied to a chair
in my fucking underpants
while that bastard strutted around
pretending to be a gentleman.
Well, at any rate,
perhaps he'll prove more tractable
than poor old Potter. Now, let me see.
It's no mistake.
I shall take great pleasure in hanging
Shush, shush, shush.
Febrile and spotty.
- Say, "Ah."
- Ah.
- Say, "Aah."
- Aah.
Well, if you were a sailor,
I'd say you have scurvy.
You must take better care of yourself.
I'm perfectly fine. Just getting old.
Listen, old girl,
that Stormcloud business,
it's a last resort. Nothing more.
Well, I didn't think
it was a passing whim,
but evil is still evil,
even in the last resort.
They won't give in.
Even though they're as good as beaten.
The damn fools won't see sense
and surrender. What are we to do?
As I say, perhaps this Aziz chap
will be someone we can do business with.
Aziz?
Oh. Oh, yes. Him.
No. I don't like policemen, in any case.
Especially not this one.
Condescending little bugger.
You really must get some sleep.
Police are necessary, of course,
but it's a low profession.
Low.
[sighs]
I wish Bet and Peggy were here.
They could always cheer me up.
- Jimmy.
- Hm?
Hello, old girl.
Sorry. What were you talking about?
Good evening, Mrs. Gaunt.
Salt.
If I might have a brief word.
I'm listening.
I'm concerned about His Lordship.
- Are you?
- His, uh, state of mind
His state of mind is not your concern.
Well of course, ma'am.
Perhaps I've said too much.
Perhaps you have.
Forgive me.
You know him so much better than I do.
If you have no concerns,
then I'm reassured.
He's been
under a lot of stress recently.
He has.
It would be no wonder
if he occasionally
fell short of his high standards.
You're edging close to disloyalty, Salt.
I'll say no more.
Not my place.
You, on the other hand, Mrs. Gaunt,
could never be accused of disloyalty,
if you were to lend a discreet hand.
Perhaps.
But how?
I have no gift for politics.
But this new chap, Aziz
What about him?
I don't know.
But it's possible,
were he approached confidentially,
very discreetly,
by a reliable intermediary,
he might listen to reason.
It had occurred to me.
Perhaps you know someone
inside the League who might help.
Perhaps.
I might.
[knocking on door]
- Hi.
- Ah.
Come on in.
Yikes.
You're really committed
to the military look, huh?
[Martha chuckles]
Well
Perhaps you noticed there's a war on.
I tend to ignore ugly things.
So tedious.
Rather surprised you invited me over.
Happy, of course, but surprised.
I reconsidered.
What the heck?
Live a little.
That's my girl.
Right.
Let's take those wretched rags off
and let's begin your transformation.
Ooh, let's have some wine first, hm?
Relax a bit.
- Now you're talking.
- [chuckles]
[Thomas] So, my little sister.
Getting married. Amazing.
I know you don't like him.
Well, hey, at least he doesn't
worship Satan, as far as I know.
Next thing you'll be having kids.
See? You're trying to scare me.
News flash, Pat,
kids are what happens when you have sex.
Well, we'll stick to anal, then.
For Christ's sake, Patricia.
Hello, Alfred.
Mr. Wayne.
[Thomas] Thomas, please.
You remember my sister, Patricia.
Of course. You punched me on the nose.
Did I? I'm sorry.
I expect you deserved it.
Don't let me interrupt.
No, it's okay.
We're just talking about anal sex.
God damn it, Patricia. That's enough.
Isn't he such a prude, Alfred?
[Alfred] If you say so, Miss Wayne.
You're pretty. Come join us.
I have friends waiting.
Good to see you again.
I think we should leave.
You've had more than enough
and Martha will be expecting us.
Sweetheart. Another glass
of your disgusting gin.
Certainly.
We're in the woods, twenty men,
two of us.
I whip out me gun Bang, bang, bang.
Boss takes out 5, I take out 15.
Fifteen, was it, Banjo?
I think we're being
a little economical with the truth.
You know, that's not how it was.
There were three.
- [laughter]
- Oh, come on.
If that.
Quiet! Quiet!
To Bazza.
The angel on our shoulders.
Rest in peace, brother.
- We should be with him.
- We will be.
And to us.
The richest cunts in London!
Leave it out, Banjo.
Show some discretion.
Or what?
[Alfred] Or everyone
will know our business.
Fuck 'em. Who cares?
- I care.
- [Melanie] He's ashamed, Banjo.
He doesn't like being a thief.
Pipe down, woman.
[Alfred] I'm not ashamed.
I'm not proud, either.
I do what I have to do.
That's my boy.
Is that right, Alfie?
Are you his boy?
I'm nobody's boy.
I think you've insulted him, Gully.
Shut up.
He says he's not your boy.
You're drunk.
[chuckles]
[upbeat music playing]
Pat, we need to go.
Martha will be wondering where we are.
Why? Why do you care? She despises you.
- I wouldn't go that far.
- No, you blew it with that one.
So you say.
As if you're an expert on relationships.
Little Tommy's holding a torch, huh?
We need to go. Excuse me?
Would you mind?
We're in a bit of a hurry.
Right away, sir.
Hey, relax.
It's for the best anyhow. She's like
a serious woman.
And you do best with silly girls.
I'm not holding a torch. It's just
It's rude to be late.
[in sing-song voice] Tommy is in love
Hello?
Jacques?
[Jacques] One minute, mon cher.
Where the fuck are they?
[Jacques] Ah.
Voilà!
Jesus Christ.
Don't be shy, baby.
I know what you want.
You fucking bitch!
Ouch.
- What is the big fucking rush?
- Shut up.
Why do you have a key?
- Why do you have a key?
- [clears throat]
- What the fuck?
- What the fuck?
cheating
asshole!
Damn it! That's right, motherfucker!
Keep running.
I wish I'd seen you in action
against Jacques.
Must have been quite a sight.
You know, it was
a whole new experience for me.
The first time
I've ever beaten a naked man.
Turns out that it's kind of fun.
Combat becomes you.
You're positively aglow.
Diana the huntress, to the life.
Flattery will get you nowhere.
- Will it not?
- Well, maybe it will get you somewhere.
Depends where you wanna go.
You know where I wanna go.
Are you trying to seduce me?
I guess I am.
I've never been seduced
by a crypto-fascist bastard before.
Well, not knowingly, anyhow.
[Thomas] Mm.
New experiences are fun, right?
Yeah, they can be.
So, you're ashamed of us, are you?
- Think you're better than us?
- No.
[Daveboy] He knows he's better than you,
sonny Jim.
There's weasel shite better than you?
Say that again,
you short-arse Fenian turd.
Steady on, Daveboy.
Come on,
let the moment run around, Alfie.
- Might prove interesting.
- [Banjo] Say it again.
[Daveboy] I don't repeat myself, Banjo.
So I'll elaborate,
away and get in line
to fuck your scrawny hun mother.
[both grunting]
- Come on, you hun!
- All right, that's enough fun, lads.
All right, enough. That's enough.
[Melanie] You can say that again.
I'm going home.
Do enjoy yourselves, boys.
[chuckles] No, you leave
when I say you can leave.
[scoffs]
Fuck you.
[Melanie groans]
Don't do that.
Keep out of my damn business.
This is my place.
You wanna beat your wife? Do it at home.
Thank you, Alfie. Very chivalrous.
Don't you ever tell me what to do, boy.
I think me and you need a quiet word.
Uh-huh.
- Wait here.
- I don't have to
I said, wait here.
Go ahead. You can speak freely.
I don't need your permission to speak.
We're not in the service anymore.
You're not a captain
and I'm not other ranks.
Fuck the service.
Fuck captains. Fuck other ranks.
I'm Gully Troy, and you don't cross me.
I'm Alfred Pennyworth, and I just did.
Now what?
Got a little over-emotional
on the job today.
You weren't the coolheaded chap
I knew in the jungle.
- We're not in the jungle anymore.
- No, that's where you're mistaken.
And you still have
a problem with authority.
Killing your father
wasn't enough for you, huh?
Be careful.
- Hm?
- [knife clinks]
Or else?
Or else.
[Troy] Hm.
All right.
I'm not your captain anymore.
I'll try and remember that.
I'm just the man making you rich.
Perhaps you'll try and remember that.
I'm done with robbery.
Don't agree with me.
Fair enough.
Just one more job, eh? A big one.
I've got enough money to get to America.
That'll do me.
I need your skills, Alfie.
I'm done, that's your lot.
Don't think I'm not grateful.
I'm asking you as a friend,
as a brother.
I'll think about it. No promises.
That's my boy.
Now, let's get back in there
before they try and kill each other.
You sort it.
I gotta talk to my floor manager.
Call last orders.
So early?
There's some big tables still
- I said, call last orders.
- As you wish, guvnor.
Hey.
Tell Gully I'll wait for him outside.
Will do.
I wasn't being sarcastic, by the way.
Thank you, for helping me.
You are a gentleman
of a kind.
No.
I'm not sure if you're brave
or stupid.
Both.
[man] Your coat, Mrs. Troy.
Thank you.
Good night.
Good night.
Tech support. Check the second sheet.
Ancillary technical staff.
Dr. Lucius Fox.
Thank you.
[Salt] Ladies and gentlemen.
On behalf of His Grace, the High
Chancellor Lord Harwood, welcome.
You're about to see
a demonstration of Stormcloud.
We think you'll agree,
this is the future of chemical warfare.
Currently available chemical weapons
require large quantities of the toxic
agent and crude deployment systems
delivering low accuracy,
low predictability.
Stormcloud is different.
Effective payloads require only
minuscule amounts of the toxic agent
delivering high accuracy
and predictability
at a very low cost to us
in terms of personnel and resources.
As you'll see
[alarm beeping]
[Frances gasps]
[softly] Jesus Christ.
Oh, God.
In five minutes' time,
the test zone will be completely safe.
Children could play out there.
That concludes the demonstration.
Thank you, Salt. Good work.
So, there you are, my friends.
The complete destruction of our enemies
lies in our hands.
This is victory, ladies and gentlemen.
Victory!
[theme music playing]