The Fourth Protocol

[Harcourt-Smith was embarassed by Preston's unauthorized, though successful previous mission]

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
Just what the hell do you think you're playing at? First, you have the unmitigated gall to proceed without my permission. Next, you deliberately embarrass the service in front of that sh*t Irvine! Of course, I'm well aware that you somehow consider yourself outside the normal chain of command. But may I remind you that this is a Service, not a free-for-all! And when you're done showing off, you come back to work for me. And I, as Director-General of the Security Service...

John Preston:
*Acting* Director-General. Bernard Hemmings isn't dead yet.

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
[through growing, though restrained anger] Look, Preston, let's get one thing perfectly clear. If, or rather *when*, I am confirmed as head of this department, you are simply going to disappear, without trace!

John Preston:
I will bear that in mind.

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
Meantime, I want another report, complete in every detail, on my desk, before you go home!

John Preston:
Would that include this meeting, sir?

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
[finally losing his temper] DO IT!

Sir Nigel Irvine:
Hello, George. Had a good holiday? Not missing anything, are you?

[lays out George's stolen diamonds]

Sir Nigel Irvine:
These are yours, I believe. But these, beyond a doubt...

[lays out the stolen NATO documents]

Sir Nigel Irvine:
Never were.

George Berenson:
I don't suppose there's very much I can say, is there?

Sir Nigel Irvine:
I don't know. Try me.

George Berenson:
All right. Well, for years now I have adopted the attitude that there was only one struggle on the planet worth a damn: the fight against world communism. And, it has long seemed to me ridiculous that the most committed anti-Communists in the Southern Hemisphere, the South Africans, should be excluded from NATO planning merely because of some... unfashionable domestic attitudes.

George Berenson:
[George just found out that his South African contact is a Russian spy] Oh my God... what have I done?

Sir Nigel Irvine:
You've betrayed your country. You've passed on untold numbers of military secrets to Moscow, and endangered the lives of British men and women. And I'd say you've weakened NATO. Perhaps irretrievably.

George Berenson:
Oh my God...

Sir Nigel Irvine:
Just you, and your schoolboy politics, and your idiotically conceited faith in your own importance.

[pause]

Sir Nigel Irvine:
Now some of our more muscular colleagues would like to lock you in a cell and go to work on you with a carving knife and a pair of pliers. The rest would like to feed you to the newspapers and throw whatever's left into prison for 20 years. It's a tricky choice.

[Smiles ever so slightly, pauses]

Sir Nigel Irvine:
However, this is what you will do. You shall resume your special relationship with Moscow, but this time I will be supplying the papers. Do you understand?

[George nods]

Sir Nigel Irvine:
And later, when you are finished, we will decide what to do with you.

George Berenson:
[very shakily] I'm very grateful, Nigel.

[Petrovsky is engaged in a drinking game with McWhirter]

Tom McWhirter:
[holding up his vodka] Nastrovia! That's Russky for UP YOURS!

Valeri Petrofsky:
[holding up his vodka, and pronouncing it slightly better!] Na zdor?vye.

John Preston:
[to Karpov] You and Irvine set it up, didn't you?. You gave us Petrovsky in exchange for the evidence you will use to destroy Govershin. You could very well become the next Chairman of the KGB.

Sir Nigel Irvine:
Preston, you're out of your depth.

John Preston:
It's just a game to you, isn't it? You both don't give a sh*t about anything except your lousy careers! It's about time they put you in a f***ing museum!

General Karpov:
[as Preston walks away] Do you think he'll talk?

Tom McWhirter:
Don't tell me you reached your limit, Jimmy boy.

Valeri Petrofsky:
I usually try to keep my limit to a gallon or so.

General Karpov:
Govershin need not last forever.

Borisov:
I want to die in my bed.

Valeri Petrofsky:
Here we are.

Irina Vassilievna:
And where are you sleeping?

Valeri Petrofsky:
We're husband and wife, remember?

Irina Vassilievna:
I think not, comrade Colonel.

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
[after Preston finds out about the polonium disc and presents his report] I regard this report as alarmist, irresponsible and lacking sufficient evidence.

John Preston:
[surprised and irritated] Evidence? Can't you read? [Forcefully] That metal disc can only be used as part of trigger for an atom bomb...

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
That remains to be seen. Don't think I don't know what's goin' on Preston. You're trying to worm your way back into favours by dreaming up some far fetched story of which you naturally are the hero...

John Preston:
And you're trying to kick out anyone who doesn't make themselves available to get your arse. But if you were to look at this thing straight, just for a moment, you'd find that there is something goin' on out there...

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
It is my prerogative as the head of this country's security service... [interrupted by a visibly disgusted John Preston]

John Preston:
*Acting head* sunshine. And if you ask me you're acting like a complete a**hole.

Brian Harcourt-Smith:
[after a brief pause a fuming but restrained Harcourt-Smith takes the report and writes as he speaks aloud] NO FURTHER ACTION. And you are suspended for insubordination, indefinately. [a frustrated Preston has a resigned look on his face]

Wynne-Evans:
It's polonium.

John Preston:
What's polonium?

Wynne-Evans:
Well, when combined with lithium, the two together form an "initiator." That's... a detonator for a bomb.

John Preston:
A bomb?

Wynne-Evans:
An atomic bomb.

John Preston:
Have they told you anything?

Captain Lyndhurst:
Just that he's a terrorist.

John Preston:
Oh, he's more than just a terrorist. He is a top Soviet agent, a pro.

Captain Lyndhurst:
Is he alone?

John Preston:
Maybe there's a woman in there. He's armed with a bomb.

Captain Lyndhurst:
How big a bomb?

John Preston:
Atomic bomb. [Lyndhurst and the other SAS stop what they're doing and look at John in stunned silence]

John Preston:
[Livid, on seeing a defenceless Valeri being assassinated by SAS] WE NEEDED TO TALK TO HIM!

Captain Lyndhurst:
[Matter of factly] Sorry Boss... orders!