Unlocked Page #4

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We're working on it.

Beautiful.

Bye bye.

(JACK GRUNTS)

(SNIFFLES)

JACK:
Morning, love.

Why'd you help me?

I wasn't gonna find any jewellery

and that TV was crap.

I heard everything.

Your little phone call. Bedside phone.

You heard?

Everything. Sounds like there's some

serious sh*t about to go down.

I couldn't just leave you there, could I?

Well, most people would have. (GROANS)

Most people didn't lose their best mate

in the 7/7 Tube bombing.

I'm sorry.

Yeah, well, what're you gonna do?

- So, who trained you?

- I play video games. (CHUCKLES)

Marines. Four tours. Iraq.

Well, those were SCO19s that you messed with,

which means that our governments

are already talking to each other.

Oh, really? About what?

It's classified.

Didn't I just get you out of

a whole heap of trouble?

You have my gratitude.

I'll trade your goodwill and appreciation

for what the f*** is going on in London

that involves the CIA,

dead prisoners and a terror strike?

Goodbye, Jack.

Bad idea, shedding me. I heard too much.

I'm an unknown variable now.

Tactically, it's a no-brainer.

You really want me around.

I'm useful.

And I like trouble.

Goodbye.

You're saying the stakes aren't high enough?

Oh, they are high enough.

Well, then.

I can help you.

I've had my troubles since the war.

Clearly not so well-adjusted.

But I'm combat tested, and right now...

I'm thinking I'm the only friend you got.

- Go home, Jack.

- I am home.

Where the f*** are you? Any idea?

- This is all of 'em?

- It is, yes.

Sir. Sir.

The kills were top-tier.

Single shooter from 80 yards.

The rounds were armour piercing.

- Lab in Bexley is running analysis.

- What's wrong with our lab?

A pouch to DC delays us 12 hours,

and if the point is to clear Alice,

then we can...

She was the last person to see

the courier alive.

And she's actively evading

a post-incident debrief.

Until that changes, clearing her

is nowhere near the point.

(VEHICLE APPROACHING)

DRIVER:
Here we are. This all right?

- ALICE:
Thank you.

- DRIVER:
That's 12.50, please.

Hello, madame. Is Amjad home?

There's no Amjad here.

NOMA:
It's okay, Mum. It's okay.

- She's a friend from the centre.

- Hey.

- How are you?

- I'm good. You?

Yeah, good. (GASPS) Hey, sweetie.

Oh, wow. Look at you. You're so big now.

- How old are you?

- Three.

Oh. No wonder you're so heavy.

- Where's your daddy?

- He's playing football. Amjad!

- Hey!

- (NOMA CHUCKLES) There he is.

Sorry about my mum.

She's visiting from Bristol.

She's so paranoid,

always thinking it's Immigration.

My brother got sent back last year.

ALICE:
Yeah, I know.

Who's that guy?

ALICE:
He's okay.

AMJAD:
I heard that Egyptian thing

turned out to be nothing.

Glad you told me though.

So what's the deal today?

Well...

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

So he has friends inside Khaleel's mosque.

He's handy.

Hoxton High Street. Some Moroccan restaurant.

The imam eats lunch there most days.

I love a tagine.

- Still time.

- Get the bus? Tube?

The lady doesn't do public transport.

(MUMBLES) What? I gotta d...

One sec, let me just talk to them, yeah?

(INDISTINCT CHATTER)

- I'm going now.

- (LAUGHING)

(LAUGHS) I'll see you later, yeah.

MAN ON RADIO:
Tuesday's American football

game at Wembley is sold out.

And their many fans at home

couldn't be more excited.

Many of them crossing the pond...

It's like rugby for hairdressers, mate.

I don't know about you,

but the last time I saw shoulder pads like

that was on reruns of Dallas. (LAUGHS)

(LAUGHS) Now let's talk about

the beautiful game we call "soccer".

- Shut up, both of you.

- (LINE RINGING)

Faster, please.

(PHONE RINGING)

- Knowles here.

- ALICE:
Emily, it's Alice.

Alice? Do you know where I've been all day?

Whitehall, at the Cobra meeting.

- Guessing my name came up, huh?

- More than once.

Well, don't believe everything you hear.

Oh, give me some credit.

Why do you think I'm calling you?

MI5's committing every available asset

to this.

All conceivable soft targets

are being assessed.

Well, there's no time for guessing.

I'm chasing a lead and I need your help.

What do you have in mind?

The courier was waiting for a text

with the meet location.

We need to find his phone.

(MUSIC PLAYING OVER SPEAKERS)

Just the one, please.

This way. Please.

Am I all right here?

Round guy, short beard. Prayer cap.

If he comes out, watch which way he goes.

Watch which way he goes. Got it.

- Okay.

- Yeah.

- Hey, watch out, man.

- (HORN HONKS)

Mr Al-Hussein?

Yes.

I'm Alice from the Gold Crescent

Community Centre.

Have you by any chance seen

Lateef el Hajjam recently?

I believe you know him from the mosque.

Lateef el Hajjam?

I'm sad to say that, um, some of his

friends got into trouble with the police.

Vandalism. Graffiti.

And his name came up.

That's terrible.

We mentor troubled youth

and we often act as an advocate

with the police in such matters.

And, um, Lateef's mother asked for our help.

- His mother, you say?

- That's right.

His mother spoke to you?

Yeah, just now.

It's quite urgent that I find her son.

- Will you excuse me a second?

- Sure.

Thank you.

(LINE RINGING)

Hey, it's me. We're on.

Right.

(AL-HUSSEIN IN ARABIC)

MAN:
Eight outgoing calls from grid Q34.

Seven of them listed. One pay-as-you-go.

That's him. Find the phone he's calling.

Triangulating.

London. Grid Q22.

Another no-contract phone.

Stationary. Hackney.

Either a car park or a car pound.

(JACK LAUGHS)

Can I help you?

- Yeah, I'm looking for the gents.

- Behind you.

Silly me. I'm a head-banger.

(GROANS)

Now behave yourselves, all right?

Both of you.

(IN ARABIC)

(DOOR CLOSES)

KHALEEL:
This courier?

Maybe he's not mine.

Lateef el Hajjam. He carried

your instructions for David Mercer.

Do you know an American named Sutter?

No.

He kidnapped Lateef.

And he tricked me into getting him the

information he needed to gain Mercer's trust.

A fatwa by Ali.

- Sutter, was it?

- Mmm-hmm.

Did he ask you to get my instructions

for Mercer?

No. He just asked for the protocol.

- He has his own messenger?

- Apparently, yes.

What was yours?

"My dearest brother in Islam,

"look to the fatwa for guidance.

"In Ali's wisdom, my wishes are clear."

You remember it, don't you? The fatwa?

"A person has no faith

if he has no patience."

What's that?

- A stand-down order?

- Uh-huh.

You did not order an attack?

You're shocked.

- You're not known for your restraint.

- Neither is America.

Not when threatened, no.

Ah, so you know the feeling?

Here's a hypothetical.

Say an imam

is sickened by what's happening

to his religion.

Group after group hijacking it,

each more savage than the next.

But, say, as a younger man,

his rage at the West consumed him.

And for years, he was lost in the hate.

But... He's done with that now?

This made-up imam of yours?

And, thus, his dilemma.

If he walks away now, his influence ends.

Mass killers seek this man's counsel.

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