Have you considered, just once, that Dad is not the bloke you think he is.
He's a selfish prick.
They wanted us out of the picture.
Who wanted us outta the picture?
Albert. Lily.
Where's the gold? - It's in the wheelbarrow.
Where's my gold, boy?
Bob Fink's got it.
OK, Charlie, now or nothing.
We were supposed to kill you in Vic Hill's lockup 15 years ago.
You were in on that.
We all have to go a little off-piste at times.
Yes, sir. The truck is on its way.
HEAVY METAL MUSIC: "Spit it out" by Slaves
♪ Spit it out ♪
♪ Spit it out... ♪
PHONE RINGS
'Ello 'ello, my little grim reaper. - WOMAN: You still truckin', baby?
How long until your heavy-metal steed slams into my throbbing mosh pit?
Should be clocked out by two.
Right! Let's be 'aving ya!
CHARLIE: Oh, no, you bloody well don't.
ALBERT: We've rung the bell.
I warned you, Bobby-boy.
Now look at ya.
A right old mess.
Right, we've got 30 hours to the exchange.
I've got a safe house on Rivington Street where we can stash it.
No.
CHIEF SUPT. JONES SIGHS
Take it to Elm Lodge.
TERI: Bit close to home, sir.
I don't intend to let this out of my sight, Dwyer.
Call Peters.
Have him meet us there with the rest of the squad.
Load the gold into the van.
And if you ask Windrush nicely
he might lend a hand.
Well?
HE SUCKS HIS TEETH
CHARLIE PANTS
Keys, keys, keys, keys, keys.
HIS BREATH TREMBLES
DOG WHIMPERS
CHARLIE: Oh, God.
DOG WHIMPERS
Come on. Scooter, come on!
Come on, boy! Come on. Good boy.
TENSE MUSIC
DOORBELL RINGS REPEATEDLY
Vic.
Albert.
Lotti.
What the hell's going on?
Vic? - Family meeting. Everyone out!
Stay. - Get out!
Stay! They've been more family than you have these past few years.
Alright, I'll tell you what happened.
Your son lost my gold to Bob Fink. All of it!
Your gold?
You had it for all of about an hour 15 years ago, the night you lost it!
I was sold out!
Yeah, by Bob Fink! Oh, how did we not see that one coming?
VIC: That was then and this is now.
And now it's you. You're the snake in the grass, my own son!
You lied to me! Both of ya!
Your father, and your husband. - Father? That's debatable, innit.
I try my best for you, boy.
Being a bank robber and a responsible parent
weren't exactly compatible occupations.
Who said you had to be a bank robber?
I wouldn't have cared if you were a plumber or a pen pusher.
I was not meant to stick my head under a sink or rot behind a desk
and neither were you.
That is not the Hill way.
The Hill way? Do me a favour.
We have been hanging on by a thread as long as I can remember!
That is enough! The pair of you!
Now, you are so blind, so desperate to dish out the blame.
You are both as obsessed as each other.
Two peas from the same pod.
Now this bloody gold has taken its pound of flesh from all of us.
That's all of us, not just you.
I'm glad it's gone. Fink's welcome to it.
It can bury him the same way it's buried everybody else
who's had it in their hands.
It's late. We're all exhausted.
Get some sleep.
Everybody stays here tonight.
KNOCKING AT DOOR
What do you want, Vic?
My wife.
Fifteen years is a long time for a stag to be estranged from his doe.
The only loving embrace you're gonna get tonight
is from the cushion of the sofa.
Well, I didn't mean it like that, Lil.
I just...
wanted to talk.
Well?
Would you have preferred it if I was a civilian, Lil?
Stuck behind a desk every day
me wearing a tie
you packing me cheese and chutney sandwiches every day for lunch.
Would that have made you happy?
I knew who you were when we tied the knot. And I signed up to it. All of it.
And God knows I've always fancied you.
Sometimes I wish I didn't.
Would have made all these past years a lot more bearable.
It's not me that you need to worry about. It's your son.
You know, he needs a father who loves him
who, more importantly, trusts him.
You know, he's grown up into a smart young man, your Albert.
I just hope you take the time to get to know him.
You used to be a bit of a footballer back in the day.
You still play a bit? - Why?
You fancy a kickabout, Hate 'Em?
You know, your old man used to drive me mad in the nick.
Spun me the same story over and over again
about how you scored the winning goal in some poxy little league cup final.
I'm surprised he even remembered that.
I never heard the end of it.
"The score was one-one.
It was the 89th minute.
My Albert's through on goal.
Legs pumping like a pair of pistons
two massive defenders descending down on him from either side.
He drops his shoulder
shells the first one like a monkey nut. Second one got twisted like a pretzel.
Then it was my boy, one on one with the keeper.
The keeper's come out, spread himself like an octopus
all arms and legs.
My Albert stood his ground, spun that kid like a tornado.
Smashed the back of that net.
Yes! Get in there!"
You know, I thought I was gonna miss that an' all.
Your dad didn't.
He always knew you was gonna score.
Never doubted you for a minute.
Anyway, look, I'm knackered.
I'm gonna go and get me head down.
Good night, kid.
Back of the net.
SMOOTH ROCK MUSIC: "Bunker" by Balthazar
Oh, Scoot.
Wake me up in five. I need to go and find the guys.
♪ Every time I walk on by ♪
♪ Stroll along your street ♪
♪ Can't believe there's not a thing in the world ♪
♪ A thing left to repeat ♪
♪ And I was walking on your floor ♪
♪ Begging to get more ♪
♪ Can't believe there's not a thing in the world ♪
♪ A thing left to ask for ♪
♪ (Yeah) ♪
♪ So leave my broken bones ♪
♪ I'll take a load of your skin ♪
♪ Throw me all your stones ♪
♪ If you need a sinner, I'm in ♪
♪ Every time I walk on by ♪
♪ Stroll along your street ♪
♪ Can't believe there's not a thing in the world ♪
♪ A thing left to repeat. ♪
BIRDS TWEET
KNOCKING
CHLOE: Charlie!
Charlie. - Morning.
Morning. Come in. The gang's in there.
Come here! Where have you been?
Oh. Let me see.
I was kidnapped, handcuffed to a radiator, beaten to a pulp, stuck in a closet
and then witness to a brutal murder.
You, uh, been hitting the old gin and mushrooms again, mate?
Ah, those days are behind me, Billy-boy.
I'm a new man.
Who's this?
Ah, yeah, this is Scooter. I adopted him.
Yeah. Oh, God, what happened? Someone die?
Yeah. Actually, quite a few people.
Ah.
We lost the gold, Charlie.
Fink's got it, we're done.
Yeah, well, actually, Fink doesn't have it.
He's dead.
What do you mean, Fink's dead?
Yeah, and with Fink's brains splattered across the rug
off skipped Chief Superintendent Jones to Elm Lodge with our bounty.
Do you know this Jones character, Hate 'Em?
Yeah, he was a bent copper on the beat from back in the day.
Must have bullied his way up the ladder.
And he said 30 hours to this exchange, right?
So he's gonna offload the gold early tomorrow morning to his client.
So that gives us enough time to track him down, right?
We are not going through all this again.
We are not going after the gold.
Now I said it would kill Fink just like it's killed everybody else.
What more proof do you need? - I'm with Mum on this one.
Forget the gold. Let somebody else feel the weight of it.
We hit Jones at this exchange instead. Let him do the work for us.
We go for money.
I like where you're going with this, son.
We cut the middle man, play the end game. What do you reckon, Lil?
Decamp to the lockup?
Plan it out properly. Just like old times.
We pull this off, Mum, and we're clear of all this shit.
Right, we make for the sun like you and Dad always wanted.
A new life away from all this.
CHAIN CLINKS - DOOR CRASHES OPEN
FOOTSTEPS ECHO AROUND
ECHOING LAUGHTER
NORMAN'S VOICE ECHOES: Time to hustle, Vic.
JANGLING
GRUNTS, GUNFIRE
ALBERT: Dad, you alright? - LILY: Vic?
VIC'S VOICE ECHOES: Bob?
BOB: Vic?
Don't shoot!
VIC: You dirty son of a bitch!
Vic? - Hm?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I'm alright.
Time to lay these ghosts to rest. Hm? - Yeah.
UPBEAT INDIE ROCK MUSIC: "Inhaler" by Miles Kane
Girls...
follow me.
Alright, Vic, where's the work tools?
Ah.
Ma'am.
SIGHS
Do the honours, Hate 'Em.
Be rude not to, Vic.
VIC: Ooh.
SOUL MUSIC: "Wicked Woman" by The Buttshakers
♪ Wicked woman getting on you now... ♪
Albert...
♪ That girl's got the devil inside... ♪
Jesus, Dad, I thought you was a bank robber
not an urban guerrilla!
Oh, you know I've always been a sucker for big boys' toys, Albert.
Hot potato!
No!
♪ And nothing that they've been talking about ♪
♪ Can get you right... ♪
Elm Lodge residence. Chief Superintendent Jones.
What you got?
Maps, aerial shots, even some interior photos.
We need plans of the internal layout, building specs.
Looks like a modern house
so architectural records should be available, right?
Let's find out.
CHARLIE COUGHS AND SPLUTTERS
HATE 'EM: You alright under there? - CHARLIE: Yeah.
BILLY: Here we go.
Got it!
You got that? - Yeah.
Jesus. Now that is some old-school shit.
There is no school like the old school, son.
Ain't that the truth.
Yeah, can someone let me out now, please?
Oh, come on then, out you come. Come on then.
HEAVY THUD
ALL: Ooh!
You alright? Eh?
I ain't got time to bleed, Hate 'Em.
Hello, old girl. It's been a while.
ALBERT: Jesus. Shouldn't that thing be in a museum?
This thing's Old Gerty, son.
Don't be fooled by her oil leaks and rusty drawers.
This darlin' has tapped more conflabs than Ml5.
IGNITION SQUEALS AND FALLS SILENT
Ah, it's dead as a doornail, Vic.
Oh.
Go on, lift her up, Norm. Let's have a look.
Oh, I'll get this old bird singing in no time.
CHLOE: That's everything we got on Elm Lodge.
CHARLIE: Oof. Blimey! Honks a bit in here, Mr Hill.
Yeah, well, you'd be a bit musty if you'd been banged up
for 15 years, Charlie.
You think these Young Turks are taking the mickey out of us?
Would you like me to put them in the Judas cradle, Victor?
No, no, no. Today we're all love and light, Hate 'Em.
No negative vibes, eh?
HATE 'EM: Right you are. OK.
Ah, good old days, eh, Lil? - Less of the old.
VIC: Name that heist!
SHE LAUGHS
Bradox job, '88.
Electronic goods warehouse.
Down payment on our first flat.
Yeah, I carried you over the threshold.
Didn't put me down for a week.
Oi, I still fancy you, sweetheart.
More than ever.
I know you do.
ENGINE ROARS
Oh-ho-ho!
NORMAN IMITATES PIRATE: Argh, she blows, Starbuck!
CHRISTMAS MUSIC: "We Wish You a Merry Christmas"
Go on. Turn it in.
MUSIC DIES OUT
You're looking good, Charlie.
Do I?
SNORTS
Oh, well... Well, yeah. Well, yes, I do.
You know what? I feel good, Chloe. Yeah.
What we up against?
STATIC CRACKLES
How does all this work then, Norman?
Nothing to it, son.
Here you go.
VIC: If that mutt goes anywhere near my bacon sandwich
I'll turn it into mufflers.
THEY BOTH LAUGH
What do you reckon, Dad?
I reckon we lay bugs here, here and here.
Give ourselves good coverage to pick up Jones's comms
on the time and place of the gold exchange.
LILY: Right. Picture time.
We're gonna need passports.
What look are we going for, Mrs H? - Straight goer, Hate 'Em.
Just keep your mouth shut and you'll be fine.
There you go. Just look straight at the camera.
UPBEAT SOUL MUSIC: "Wolves" by Rag'n'Bone Man
Got it? Lovely. Next. Who's up next? Come on then.
♪ I don't wanna drown no more ♪
♪ I'm sick of the same old people ♪
♪ The kind that'll sell your soul ♪
♪ And trade it for a shining stone ♪
♪ Ain't nothing in this life for free... ♪
Go on, you get here.
And then work it.
♪ A man's gotta fight temptation. ♪
Albert, do the honours. - Me?
It's your plan, son.
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls and Hate 'Em
hope you're ready for the main event.
We got three phases:
Phase one is intel.
Phase two is the takedown.
Phase three is the getaway.
Now have a look around ya.
Look at each other.
Each and every one of you has a skillset that is going to come in handy.
Now whatever role you play
we're all as equally as important if we're going to pull this off.
We work together. We work as a team. All of us.
We work as a family.
THUDDING
Yeah!
THEY CHEER
ROARS
You'll set the pineapples off.
THEY CHUCKLE
Let's go to work.
Billy.
Albert. Albert? - What?
I'm not sure how I feel about being called a tit, mate.
Who was the one that wanted a bird as a code name?
You. Alright?
Now go on, get up in the nest, Blue Tit!
HATE 'EM: Sort him out, Norman.
'Orrible, you are. 'Orrible kid.
JOHNSON LAUGHS
JOHNSON: What?
You pulled the short straw!
Huh?
TERI: Don't get too comfy, boys.
This lot attracts bad guys like flies to shit.
ALBERT: Look at you two, Ronnie and Reggie.
Uh, yeah, uh... Uh... Which one am I?
Ronnie or Reggie?
You're Ronnie of course, Charlie.
There you go, boys. Get miked up.
And you cannot break into a house without these bad boys.
CHARLIE: Ah.
There you go.
Um, yeah, uh, what... What exactly are these, Mr Hill?
BOTH: They're creepers!
NORMAN SCOFFS
ALBERT: Bill, get Hate' Em up on comms, yeah?
Blue Tit, this is Night Thunder. You copy? Over.
Night Thunder? - LILY ON RADIO: Night Thunder?
Are you taking the piss?
Well, that's rich coming from a blue tit! Over.
VIC: Blue Tit, this is Butch Cassidy. - HATE 'EM: Yeah. Course it fucking is!
VIC: Are you in the nest? Over.
HATE 'EM: Give me a minute, will ya, Butch?
HE PANTS
How much longer are these bloody Corsicans going to keep me waiting
on this exchange point?
They're most likely navigating their way into the docks, sir.
The question is which docks, Dwyer?
CRACKING
And is this to your liking, sir?
GRUNTS
Yes.
Thank you, Dwyer.
ALBERT: Into position then, lads. Keep 'em peeled.
CHARLIE: Roger that, Sundance!
PANTING: Yeah, it'll be fine. It'll be fine.
Blue Tit is in the nest.
What's the scores on the doors, Blue Tit? Over!
HATE 'EM: You got two of them snot rags trooping the front.
You got two of them round the back.
And they're tooled up to the max.
Over.
Copy that, Blue Tit.
You're up, Thunder. - BILLY: Let's do this.
ROCK MUSIC: "Memory Lane" by Eddy Current Suppression Ring
PETERS: Oh!
JOHNSON LAUGHS
♪ I took a walk down memory lane ♪
♪ Where everything looked quite the same ♪
♪ People smiled... ♪
Ronnie and Reggie, in position!
♪ They told me 'bout the road they paved ♪
♪ As I walked down memory lane... ♪
THREE LOUD BANGS
CHARLIE: Go, Reggie, go.
♪ As I walked down memory lane ♪
♪ People sobbed, people cried... ♪
What's going on, boys? - Nothin', boss.
Motorbike a backfire.
Alright, stand down. As you were.
♪ As I walked down memory lane ♪
♪ Everything looked quite the same ♪
♪ People joked and people laughed... ♪
STATIC CRACKLES
CHARLIE: Ronnie and Reggie are in the house.
Well done. Now in and out. Fast as you can.
CHARLIE: Live on one
HATE 'EM: They're heading back inside.
Snot rags coming back into the gaff. Take cover, boys.
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: What's going on out there?
Nothing to worry about. Just a motorbike backfiring, sir.
JOHNSON: Brass monkeys out. You fancy a brew?
PETERS: Yeah, milk and two.
Stirred to the right.
JOHNSON: Stir you to the right, you twat.
JOHNSON WHISTLES
Nouveau riche wanker .
JOHNSON WHISTLES - FRIDGE RATTLES
Ta, mate.
NORMAN WHISPERS: Ronnie!
PETERS: You are going down, Johnson.
JOHNSON: Ooh!
Not gonna have much money in your wallet by the end of the night, are you?
PETERS AND JOHNSON CHUCKLE
PETERS: On the green.
CLINKING OF SNOOKER BALLS
JOHNSON: Oh!
JOHNSON CHUCKLES
PETERS: Go on.
THUD, DOOR SQUEAKS
Are they in?
They're creeping.
CHARLIE: Ah, Creepers.
CHARLIE CHUCKLES
PETERS: Oh! He's nearly gone in.
JOHNSON: Brown, mate. Straight in. Mm-hm.
Oof, nearly. - BILLY: Going live on two.
JOHNSON: You're punching above your weight, Peters.
Alright? Come on...
Bad guys. They're everywhere.
Sir.
Well, this bad guy needs a refill.
TV DIALOGUE CONTINUES INDISTINCTLY
Butch.
I've got eyeballs on...
one of the twins, in the TV room.
It's Ronnie.
He's got some balls, that boy, ain't he?
TERI: Here you are, sir.
VOICE FROM TV: They rigged up your car with a bomb.
It's set to go off the minute you step on the starter.
A bomb in my car?
Huh?
We got a full house, boys.
TERI: Edward G Robinson's a real man, sir.
It's a false alarm, boys.
Reggie and Ronnie, back to base.
PETERS: Rack 'em up, Johnson. Double or quits, yeah?
JOHNSON: Alright. Stop whining.
You rack 'em up. I'm gonna grab a beer. - PETERS: Mmm.
JOHNSON WHISTLES
TERI: You're a very bad boy, sir!
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: Is that all you've got, Dwyer?
Put your back into it, for Christ's sake.
I'll shit you, Johnson.
Prosecco? What a tosser.
JOHNSON WHISTLES
Knobhead's gotta have a beer somewhere.
WHISTLING GETS CLOSER
JOHNSON GRUNTS
MUFFLED CRIES
CHARLIE: Shit.
RADIO STATIC CRACKLES
VIC: Ronnie and Reggie, what is your status?
Ronnie had to nobble one of the heavy mob, Butch.
Now we're stuck in that larder.
Well, get out of there sharpish.
I'm working on it, Sundance!
Come in, Butch Cassidy.
This is Blue Tit.
I am bored out of my nut.
Can I please just shoot somebody now?
Over. - No, you bloody well can't, Blue Tit.
Hold your position.
IMITATES VIC: "No, you bloody well can't." I don't give a shit.
Listen up, boys.
PHONE RINGS
Jones.
No, I thought I was quite clear on this, dear.
You're not to call my work line.
Dinner? It's quite impossible, Patricia.
I'm staying at the country house tonight.
Your parents are coming...
Sounds like trouble back at the ranch.
Not feeling sorry for him, are you, Dad?
Sympathy and empathy are worlds apart, Albert.
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: ...supersedes official police business.
Quite honestly, you can feed them all dog food, for all I care.
Good night.
That's the spirit, sir.
CHARLIE WHISPERS: Norman
You know, given the choice, I think... Yeah, I think I'd rather have been Reggie.
MUFFLED GRUNT
What are you talking about, son?
You know, Ronnie and Reggie Kray.
Reggie was always the cool one, wasn't he?
Well having worked with them both
I don't recall either of them being particularly "cool", Charlie.
STUTTERS: Yeah... Yeah... You know, if we ever do this again
I'd like to be Reggie next time.
Oh, whatever floats your boat, son.
Butch Cassidy, there's no way of getting out of here
without kicking the door down.
Oh, shit! - Oh.
Uh, that is a negative, Reggie.
You hold tight until we get the intel
and then we will slip in and, uh, liberate ya.
Roger that.
What you talking about? We can't just leave 'em in there.
They're big boys. They're tucked away.
If we charge in there now, we will blow it.
No, we wait until we get the intel and the heavy mob leave.
If they're compromised, we bust in there, all guns blazing.
IMITATES GUNFIRE
Listen, Albert, I lost it all before.
And I'm not talking about the gold.
I will not take a chance if it means losing it all again.
This, here, now, is my dream come true.
Me and my boy together.
Jesus Christ. You make it sound like we're camping.
I know. Never been happier or prouder.
CUCKOO CALLS
LOTTI: Never saw myself as taking a back seat to a fella.
Sweetheart, if our boys do get the money
who do you think has to get the plan in place to disappear?
You really wanna leave that up to them?
They are relying upon us for the long game.
Being the better half to a bank robber requires a certain gift, a certain spirit.
You wait in the wings, often for years, but when you're called upon
you act with a cool head and a clear conscience.
CHLOE: Are we thinking the Costa del Sol, Lily?
Nah, not the Costa.
Too many old acquaintances and bad beer.
Somewhere more inland. A lovely finca.
SHE SIGHS LONGINGLY
D'you know, I've always wanted to grow oranges.
Got it.
PHONE RINGS
Jones here.
About time, Petru.
We're on!
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: Choppy waters out of Ajaccio?
Yes, of course we have the shipment.
We're just waiting on the exchange point.
Liverpool docks. Really?
Really?
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: That's quite some distance from here.
HIGH-PITCHED FEEDBACK RINGS OUT
FEEDBACK CONTINUES
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: After the morning tide. Wait. I need to...
HIGH-PITCHED FEEDBACK
Oh, come on.
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: Pier number...
FEEDBACK
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: Dock number...
BETWEEN FEEDBACK: ...se'en...
Oh shit.
CHIEF SUPT. JONES: No, no. You listen to me.
There'll be no more mistakes, Petru.
We're on our way.
We're on, Dwyer.
Get the boys to load up the gold.
Liverpool docks.
Coming in from Ajaccio before the morning tide.
Yeah, yeah, but that narrows it down, though, right?
Yeah, enough to follow the scent, boys.
Ronnie and Reggie, stay in position. The Eagle has landed.
The heavy mob are on the move.
Blue Tit, what's the SP?
Butch, they're on the move.
Start her up, Billy-boy.
Got it.
IGNITION SQUEALS AND FADES
BILLY: It won't start!
BILLY GRUNTS
BIRD SINGS
Is that a woodlark?
LOUD HIGH-PITCHED FEEDBACK
WHISPERING: Shit. Shit.
Johnson?
We're moving out, you bellend!
WHISPERS: Butch, send in the cavalry.
I'm going in.
We are not going in there with our dicks in our hands.
It's time for the big boys' toys.
COCKS GUN
Let's go.
INDIE ROCK MUSIC: "Cherry Lips" by Archie Bronson Outfit
IGNITION SQUEALS
FRUSTRATED CRY
BILLY: Fuck.
Oh shit.
GROANING
It was him or me, son.
Get the gold in the van!
Now!
Sir?
Get the van. Meet us round the front. Go!
IGNITION WHEEZES
Come on.
ENGINE PURRS
NORMAN WHIMPERS AND GROANS
NORMAN: It's... It's no good, Vic.
My guts are falling out.
Up you get, old man.
I've got ya. Come on, Norm.
Vic, take Lily to the sun.
Make her happy.
I will, old friend. I promise.
NORMAN CRIES OUT
NORMAN: Go, Vic, Go!
TERI: Come on, sir. Quick.
Move out! Move out!
We're moving out!
CHIEF SUPT. JONES BARKS: Windrush, move!
Billy, give me the bike keys now! Come on, son. Quick!
Charlie, take this.
ALBERT: Where's my dad?
HATE 'EM: He's in the back of Jones's van.
Let's get going. Come on! Now, now, now!
Come on.
HE GRUNTS