I certainly hope you dance
as well as you dress.
There's only one way
to find out.
Do you do the whirlybird?
Must you even ask?
Don't you know who I am?
No.
But I'd like to find out.
How I wish you were here
to capture my heart,
not simply to capture me,
Agent Argylle.
I guess the whirlybird
doesn't catch the worm.
Any last words?
A little help, Keira?
Who's Keira?
The girl who gave up
being the next Steve Jobs
to save his sorry ass.
You're welcome.
Need a lift?
Legrange made me.
She knew exactly who I was.
Well, then
let's get the hell outta here.
Keira!
She's hit. Keira's down.
Sending medevac. You need
to stay on target, Argylle.
No, I can save her.
Let medevac do their job.
You do yours.
That's an order.
Wyatt, I lost her.
What's your status?
I'm about to enjoy
a delicious Greek coffee.
Well, I suggest you hurry up.
She's inbound to your position.
Oh, relax.
Bad news for you,
this is the only exit route
off the island.
The good news?
This place
makes phenomenal karydopita.
Mmm, I hope you like it.
Because it's about to be
your last meal
unless you tell us who told you
that we were coming.
Who?
You don't answer,
you're gonna be
the same temperature
as my coffee right now.
Which, thanks to you,
is ice-cold.
Phone.
You and I,
we're not so different.
You're a t*rror1st.
Then what, Agent Argylle,
does that make you?
Hmm.
Argylle.
Be advised, Legrange,
Agent Argylle is en route
to your location now.
It seems we serve
the same master.
Argylle, Wyatt,
complete your mission
and return to base.
Argylle.
Cut your feed.
Think clearly.
Use your head.
You can't believe
a g*dd*mn word she sa--
We're on our own now.
The Directorate
will come after us.
-So we go dark.
-"So we go dark."
-Off the grid.
-"Off the grid."
-Fully.
-"Fully."
-We trust each other...
-"We trust each other
and no one else."
"You understand me?"
"From this moment forward,
it's a whole new ball game,"
warned Argylle.
For he knew there was
no turning back.
That nothing would ever be
the same again.
Elly Conway,
ladies and gentlemen. All right.
Thank you.
Okay, and, uh,
now let's take some questions.
So-- Oh. Yes?
-Hi, Elly.
-Oh, hi. Hi.
I'm actually an aspiring writer,
but I can never seem
to find the time.
Do you have any advice?
Oh, my goodness,
I know how hard that can be.
Um, for me,
when I was a waitress,
I was juggling so many shifts.
I never had the time
to really write
until the, um-- well, the--
the skating accident, which I've
obviously spoken about.
And-- And I think when something
like that happens to you,
it makes you realize
that tomorrow isn't promised.
And that if you can't
find the time,
you have to make the time
to do the things
that are important to you.
And once I did that,
all the characters and stories
and ideas that had been trapped
in my head for so many years
finally got let out
onto the page.
All right,
let's take another question.
Uh, yeah?
-Hello.
-Hello.
It's no secret that you are
the spy novelist
actual spies read.
You have even predicted
real-life geopolitical events.
Hmm.
Fleming, Forsyth, le Carr,
they all had the same touch
and they turned out
to be real spies.
So, what?
Are you a spy, too?
How do you do it?
Gosh, I wish. I wish.
That would make everything
so much easier, but no.
As boring as it may seem,
the secret is
research, research, research.
Although,
that is what I would say
if I was a real spy, so...
Okay, next question.
Yes? Young lady, down in front.
Uh, when are we
gonna get book five?
Oh. Well.
Sooner than you think.
Very exciting.
Uh, yeah?
Gentleman in the gray hoodie.
Uh, sorry if this sounds
a bit forward,
but I don't know if I'll ever
get another chance to ask,
so, do you have
any plans tonight?
Oh. That's--
That's very flattering. Um...
But tonight
I actually do have a hot date.
Yep. Another hot date.
You ready?
Mama's got to get to work.
The stolen master file
held more than enough proof
to bring the Directorate down.
Although the hacker's price
was high,
Argylle knew that it would be
worth its weight in gold.
Half now, half on delivery.
As discussed.
This phone is the key
to the master file.
Go to London.
Once you've arrived,
you'll receive
a call on that phone
from my employer,
the world's greatest hacker.
Finally in reach
of the silver b*llet,
which would destroy
the Directorate
once and for all.
The end.
Book five finished.
Cheers, Argylle.
Mom, morning. Hi.
Did you see my email
I sent you last night?
Oh, I read it.
Overnight? The whole thing?
Oh, sweetie, I'm your mother.
Of course I did.
I took two Adderall, started,
couldn't put it down.
I was blown away.
You did it again, angel.
Mom, I'm so relieved.
I was going over and over it
in my head and stressing
and, ugh, I'm just glad
you like it, honestly.
Now we can get it out
to the publisher and just--
Right. Well...
Oh, no.
What?
Nothing.
The book--
The book is phenomenal,
sweetie, but--
You don't think it's ready.
Oh, Elly, it's just--
it's the ending.
-Oh, God.
-I'm reading this thing.
I'm on the edge of my toilet.
Argylle about to get the
master file, defeat those SOBs,
and then the big twist is
it's in London. Huh?
What? No. No, no, no.
Does he get the file or not?
What happens next?
It's called a cliff-hanger,
Mother.
Elly, it's called a cop-out.
And you can't do this
to your readers.
How about I fly in on Friday?
Make a weekend of it?
Brainstorm, work a little bit
of our magic?
We'll figure it out.
Friday's fine.
I'll just--
I'll futz around with it
until then.
You need to bring
this story home, Elly.
Yeah, I think you have one more
teeny tiny chapter to write.
It'll be fun.
Hmm?
Bye.
You hear that, buddy?
One more chapter.
Miss Li,
the next flight to London
doesn't leave until morning.
Seeing as I have time to k*ll,
-I thought...
-Thought what?
That I'd stay here?
Enjoy the fireworks with you?
I'll show you fireworks.
No.
That was bad.
God, that was bad.
Delete.
You're better than this, Elly.
Come on, Elly.
-The whole tone--
-Is just--
It's way off.
Okay.
"What I meant to say,
Miss Li, was..."
What I meant to say,
Miss Li, was...
"Was..."
-I've got n--
-Nothing.
What about you, Alfie?
Any thoughts?
Anything?
Hey, Mom.
-Hi, dear.
Just wanna make sure
you're okay.
I know how stressed you get
with work and--
Tickets, please. Tickets.
Wait, Elly.
Are you on a train?
Surprise.
I figured I'd just come down
to the city to see you.
Well, your father will be
so excited to see you.
And dear little Alfie,
of course.
We'll take you out
for a nice dinner.
Maybe you'll even meet someone
while you're here, who knows?
As appealing as that sounds,
Mother, I am in a relationship.
You are?
With who?
A relationship with my work.
Oh.
With Argylle.
Oh, it kills me, Elly.
What is the point of success
if you have no one
to enjoy it with?
There's a reason I write about
spies, not romance, Mother.
It's less complicated.
-Oh, what's so complicated...
-Uh, yeah.
...about falling in love, Elly?
I-I'll, uh, I'll call you
when I get in, yeah?
Love you. Bye.
Hi.
Uh, sorry to disturb.
Is this seat taken?
Is that seat taken?
Mm-hmm.
Yes. Yes, um,
unfortunately, it is.
That's a shame.
I'm sorry, no. No.
That seat is taken.
-Hmm.
-He got up, but a man was, um--
w-- is sitting there.
That's fine. If he comes back,
I'll just get up.
Whoa! Hey!
There's a cat in there.
This cat's supposed to be
in a hat, not in a backpack.
Look at this.
What are you doing, fur monster?
Far out.
Oh, I love cats.
What-what's his name?
-Uh. Alfie.
-Excuse me.
Alfie boy. Ooh, yeah.
Coochy-coochy-coochy-
coochy-coo.
Is enough oxygen in there?
Yes, of course.
I'll leave you alone.
You wanna be left alone.
I understand.
Have you read this?
-Yeah. Yeah.
-Yeah?
Okay.
I get it. Okay.
Wait--
Excuse me.
Oh, my God.
Are you-- Is this--
You're Elly freaking Conway.
Far out!
How about that?
I am such a fan, and this is
honest to God your best yet.
I'm not just saying that.
I'm not.
How do you do it?
Book after book,
you just crank 'em out, man.
You know, when you're passionate
about what you do...
You never work
a day in your life.
Ain't that the truth?
We're both lucky that way,
you and I.
Oh, yeah?
What is it you do?
Espionage.
Right.
"The greater the spy,
the bigger the lie."
Hmm. That's cheeky.
Oh, not what you expected
a spy to look like, huh?
Well, yeah, in fairness,
that is just about the only
thing your books get wrong.
A male model in a bespoke Nehru
jacket with a stupid haircut
tends to stand out on a train,
as opposed to everyone else
in this car.
Them you don't notice.
Have I lost you?
You all right?
Mmm...
No, I'm fine.
You know, I meant it
when I said I was a fan.
But the next fan
that comes over, he's not just
dropping by for a selfie,
if you catch my drift.
He's one of them.
-Now, I realize this may be...
-...hard to believe,
but by the time
I've broken his wrists...
...and his p*stol
falls into your lap,
perhaps we will have built up a
little trust with one another...
...and you'll be able
to accept two key realities.
Reality one,
you are in grave danger.
-Reality...
-...two, when I say it's time,
it would really be beneficial
for you to hold on to me
as tight as you can.
I'm talking...
...bear-hug-like-you've-
never-held-anyone-before tight.
You understand?
You dig what I'm saying?
I am, uh, so sorry.
Uh, Miss Conway...
...would you mind, uh,
signing my book?
-We're really gonna play
this game? -Uh, yeah.
Um...
...do you have a pen?
-It's embarrassing.
-Yeah. Yeah, yeah. Yeah.
Here we go.
God, I love this book.
See? I was telling the truth.
Who's the weirdo now?
Not a real fan. Don't worry.
I have it all under control.
I got everything under control.
Oh, what is happening?
Are you okay?
Yeah.
Gee, that's nice. Thanks.
See? I give you the g*n,
you give it back to me.
This is that trust
we were talking about, Elly.
Strangers on a train.
And now look at us.
Come on. Isn't this fun?
Wait a second. No, no, no,
no, no.
Elly, hold on. Don't do that.
Elly!
It's a real beard, you d*ck.
Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey.
You okay?
No!
Okay, I'm gonna take care
of this.
Okay, this could be
a challenging--
Okay.
All right, I think it's bear hug
o'clock time. Follow me.
Let's go.
Okay.
Hey, stay with me.
-Follow me.
-Okay.
Let's go.
-Hey.
-No. Bad.
Bad. Very bad.
Let's go. Let's go.
-Hey, wait. That's your type?
-Get lost, Romeo.
No!
Whoa.
Freeze!
No, no, no. Wait, wait, wait.
Don't sh**t.
I don't know this man.
I have nothing to do
with this person.
I'm not involved. Please.
Wilde, don't make me
k*ll both of you.
Hey, Elly.
What?
It's time.
It's bear hug o'clock.
Enjoy the ride.
Whoo!
Yeah!
-Whoo!
-Okay!
What?
Oh, good, you're up. Hey.
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa.
Okay, it's me. It's just me.
Remember the guy on the train?
The kung fu--
With the beard?
I shaved.
The guy from the train.
Yeah, remember?
-I know, I know, I know.
-The lar--
I recognize you.
I'm sorry,
I'm being rude. I-I apologize.
We haven't been
formally introduced.
My name's Aidan. Aidan Wilde.
No, no, no! Stay back.
Okay. Relax.
Where's my cat?
Alfie's right over there
in the kitchen
eating mercury-free tuna.
Just like Mom feeds him.
He's fine. You're not.
You're in big, big trouble.
You...
You have cameras in my house?
You're not a spy.
You're a pervert.
No, not a pervert. A spy.
I'm a spy, doing my job.
I'm not a pervert.
That's the bad guys' feed
that we're tapped into.
Well, then, who--
who are these people?
You see that guy right there?
You remember him from the train?
His name's Carlos.
He works for the Division,
the real-life version of those
bad-guy spies in your books.
And the head honcho.
He's called Director Ritter.
Do I need to remind you
what is at stake here?
What would happen
if that turncoat son of a bitch
masquerading as an agent
were to recover our master file
before we do?
I'll find her.
You have my word.
Deputy Director,
is that like
when you gave me your word
Wilde would never get
within a hundred miles from her?
We can still contain this, sir.
I'm overwhelmed with confidence.
No, this doesn't make sense.
Why would the Division
care about me?
Because you're a g*dd*mn
fortune teller, Elly.
I mean, come on.
Doesn't take a genius to imagine
a covert intel organization
the world doesn't know about.
It sure as sh*t does
to predict they'd go rogue.
Yeah.
Somehow, you wrote a story
that's still unfolding
as we speak. Book five.
You read book five?
Oh, yeah.
The bad guys too.
The Division has read book five?
The Division doesn't miss a
single keystroke of yours, Elly.
But your new manuscript
kicked a hornet's nest
you didn't even know existed.
That's why
the Division wants you,
and once they have you,
they're never gonna
let you go, or worse.
Much, much worse.
Oh, Clementine.
You're my only comfort.
Did you know that Clementine
was my grandfather's?
-Yeah.
-Ah.
He named it after his mother.
Oh, boy.
He was a very strict man.
But I always found him
reasonable.
And he had a policy.
He would only k*ll if it was
absolutely necessary...
...for food
or to vanquish an enemy
or to eliminate
an incompetent imbecile.
Mistakes were made.
It won't happen again.
Oh, I know it won't.
Of that I'm certain.
This isn't happening.
Yeah, it is.
It's definitely happening.
But if you want a way out,
if you want your life back,
I can help you.
I'm the good guy here.
But you gotta help me first.
What exactly is it
you need me to do?
I'll tell you on the way.
g*dd*mn, cats!
Had to bring your cat, man.
I thought you said
you loved cats.
You have a hankie
or a pocket square?
What, do you have allergies
or something?
Never mind. It's fine.
You lied.
You lied about liking cats.
-Yeah. -How am I supposed
to trust you now?
I'm a spy. Spies lie.
It's part of the gig.
That and k*lling people.
Well, that's really reassuring.
Okay, you want truth?
Here's truth.
What you wrote in your new
manuscript actually happened.
But it wasn't Argylle.
It was me.
I brought in this hacker.
I hired this scumbag
called Bakunin
to steal the Division's
master file.
Yeah, I've got
all the dirt on 'em.
Everyone you asked for.
Ritter, Carlos.
I got proof of bombings,
election fraud,
radioactive poisonings.
I mean, these lot
make Darth Vader
look like Mary Poppins.
I've put your precious
master file on a flash drive.
And I reckon the Division
will give me a lot more
not to give
this silver b*llet to you.
So, the price just tripled.
We still got a deal?
Yeah, okay, Bakunin,
we got a deal.
Yeah, I thought so.
Spasibo.
The master file
was my silver b*llet
to bring the Division down,
the proof I was gonna use
to expose them.
But when I went to London
to meet Bakunin...
...scumbag didn't show.
So now the bad guys and I
are racing to find him.
And we both think that
your fantastic imagination
is the key.
So where is he now?
No, no, no, no.
You can't expect me
to know the answer to that.
Why not?
Just tell me what happens
in the next chapter.
What you're asking me to do
takes months of research.
Years.
Reading, interviewing,
memorizing maps,
getting to know a city.
I've never even been
to London before.
Well, great.
Let's start there.
Yes. Ta-da.
I don't do planes.
I met you on a train
for a reason.
The chances of you dying
in a plane crash
are, like, one in 11 million.
Chances if you stay here
and let the Division find you,
not so good.
Right now,
that plane is your best friend.
What do you say?
I can't do this.
Breathe. Breathe with me.
Mmm, delicious.
-More champagne, sir?
-Oh, no, I couldn't.
Okay. Twist my arm.
How about this plane, huh?
I've never been
on a plane before, so--
Well, this is one hell of a way
to pop that cherry.
You know what I mean?
This is your captain speaking.
Please fasten your seat belts
for takeoff.
Yeah, like this is gonna help us
if we crash.
Uh, you okay?
It's a--
It's a tapping exercise.
It's meant to bring my
stress response under control.
It's what Army Rangers do.
Oh, God.
You ever try alcohol?
It helps.
No.
Hey, look at me. Hey!
Look at me.
One of my first Division ops,
I'm in Algeria
cornered in a Sahrawi
refugee camp
literally at the base
of Mount "Tachat."
No, n-- Taha-- Tahat.
It's pronounced Tahat.
It's "Tachat."
It's a-- Isn't it a "cha"?
No, no, no.
There's no C. It's Tahat.
It's-- It's-- It's--
It's just Mount Tahat, okay?
Okay.
Now I start free-scaling
this sucker.
I'm no mountain climber,
so I know any minute
I'm gonna just, wham, free-fall
a few hundred feet per second.
Burst like a water balloon
on impact.
So what did I do?
I stopped worrying about the
10,000-foot rock face above me,
and I worked the three-foot
space in front of me.
So, when you feel that fear,
remember...
to focus on
the only thing that's real.
What's right in front of you.
Look at that.
We're flying.
Yeah.
We're flying.
Thank you.
You bet.
Oh, God.
-Had to bring the cat.
-What did you expect me to do?
Leave him to fend for himself?
-Come on.
-He'd be fine.
Cat ladies always die alone.
The cats figure it out.
I am not a cat lady. I'm not.
And what's your problem
with my cat, exactly?
He's really cute.
He's cuddly.
-He's loyal. He's kind.
-Oh, please.
You suddenly drop dead,
that cat's
chewing your ears off
within 48 hours max.
Which, with you around,
gets more likely by the minute.
This is the spot.
The Albert Memorial.
-Wow.
-I showed up right on time.
Bakunin never called.
Mmm.
The question is, what happened?
It's a good question.
Yeah. Yeah.
Yeah, what happened?
It's not a rhetorical question.
What happened?
I can't just-- poof--
come up with the answer.
Sure you can.
End of book five,
Argylle was on his way
to meet a hacker in London,
right?
So you just write
one more chapter
and tell me what happens next.
No.
This is not my process.
Well, we're in a public park
being pursued by assassins
hunting you on behalf
of the most dangerous
spy organization on Earth,
so unless you have
a better idea,
perhaps you could compromise.
Okay, let's find a seat.
Sir, we've found them.
They're at the Albert Memorial
in Hyde Park.
This is live right now.
One of her fans
is live streaming her.
That's definitely her.
It's Elly Conway.
-Carlos.
-Yes, sir?
Deploy a local team.
I want all UK assets
repositioned
and fixed on them now.
Get me the audio.
I wanna hear this.
Digital lip-read activated.
How are we doing there, boss?
Please.
Please, just don't rush me.
Gotta think.
He's getting her
to write the next chapter.
It's not w*r and Peace,
you know?
We just need a chapter.
Maybe a couple of pages.
As Argylle arrived
at the rendezvous point...
...he realized...
So, what,
is this guy just a no-show?
Why would he give me the phone
not to call? Unless...
The phone is the message.
Oh, there. Look.
Why put a $2,200 encryption chip
in a $20 disposable phone?
He's trying to tell us how to...
...find him.
Could I see the phone?
You mean the flip phone?
The burner?
Yeah.
We need to open it up.
If I'm right,
Bakunin could have fitted it
with an encryption CPU.
Sure.
-Where is it?
-Threw it out.
You don't have it?
You threw it out?
That was a clue.
Ran out of juice. It's a burner.
What kind of spy are you?
Clearly, I'm not working
with Agent Argylle here.
With this chip, in theory,
could you make
end-to-end encrypted calls?
In theory, but the person
on the other end
would have to have a matching...
...matching DiSEqC
satellite dish. That's it.
You heard them. DiSEqC database.
He picked the chip
to lead us to his satellite.
We find the satellite,
we find Bakunin.
The question is...
How do we find a list
of operational
DiSEqC satellites in...
...in the UK?
Watch the master at work.
You know how to do that?
Keira did teach me
a thing or two, you know?
So, I'm just gonna backdoor
my way into the DiSEqC data...
...base.
Every satellite they sell would
have to be registered with them.
If we don't cr*ck this
before they do,
heads will roll.
Oh, look at this.
Metasploit firewall.
-That's a Metasploit file.
-Yeah, I can cr*ck it.
Just hold on.
-Well?
-I can cr*ck it. Hold on.
Challenge accepted.
Almost there.
Almost there.
There.
-I'm in.
-I'm in.
I'm in.
Like to see Argylle do that.
I'd like to see you
try doing that.
So, what do we have here?
How many...
...satellite locations
are there?
A lot. That's-that's ninety...
...six to be precise.
sh*t.
No, no, no, no, no, no, no.
But he would have picked
this location,
the Albert Memorial,
for a reason.
-What's the...
-...closest one to here?
Well, then you're looking
for this puppy right here.
A-And that-- that's the absolute
closest address...
-...to the Memorial?
-Yes, ma'am.
-Yes, sir.
-Coburg Street.
Coburg Street.
As in Prince Albert Saxe...
...Coburg. I...
-...think we've found...
-...our guy.
Let's hope you're right.
Writer's intuition.
No one's home.
What should we do?
Well, I am a spy, after all.
All right.
Writer's intuition, huh?
Notice anything?
Yeah, Bakunin was loaded.
He wouldn't live
in a dump like this.
-Team one, what's your status?
-We're two miles out.
No, it's wallpaper over brick.
Does that seem normal to you?
Uh, whoever lived here
had bad taste?
Can we-- Ca-- Let's--
Let's split.
What are you doing?
Look, look, look.
There's a line.
This is a clue.
Look at this.
That's Spackle.
That's plaster. Let's go.
This is something.
We got 95 more locations
to check.
-Come on, let's get outta here.
-No. No, no, no, no, no.
Just-just wait.
Let-let me figure it out.
I know this is the place.
Okay, you're gonna waste
my time, I'll waste your time.
-You like to dance?
-No.
I do. Yeah!
Hmm.
Team leader, report.
Sir, we're one mile out.
Can you see anything?
Uh...
Uh, wait a second.
It's a lockbox.
-You can, um, pick it.
-Yeah.
-Yeah.
-Great idea.
Will you please give me just,
like, a little bit of warning
-before you start sh**ting?
-What's wrong?
What happened to all the spy
lock-picking expertise?
That one looked harder.
-Hey! All right.
-Whoa.
Now we're talking.
What's this?
Oh, this is a boat key.
How do you know
that's a boat key?
I live on a lake.
IP addresses, VPN IDs,
drop-sites.
It's all encoded.
This is the anarchist symbol.
It's Bakunin's namesake.
It's after the 19th-century
Russian anarchist.
This is it.
Th-This is Bakunin's.
sh*t. This is his logbook.
Yeah, and it could lead us
to the master file. Look!
You were right.
-Huh.
-You nailed it.
-I figured it out.
-Nice going.
You figured it out.
Whoa.
I figured it out.
Can you figure this out?
All right, all right,
all right, all right.
We breach on my count.
Three, two, one. Go!
Room is secure.
-The target's MIA.
-sh*t!
God, I hate that cat.
No, no, no.
Why does this keep happening?
Oh, there's a guy!
-Watch this.
-Watch what?
This!
Oh, no.
I'm sorry.
That cat just used up
one of his nine lives. Trust me.
Cat's a nightmare.
Yeah, it's, uh,
not his finest moment.
Actually, feels a lot better.
Feels pretty good.
Satchel, please.
Thank you very much.
Okay, these Division dudes,
they come in waves.
There's gonna be more.
So, unless you wanna stick
around for a meet and greet,
I suggest we boogie.
Okay.
Here, hold--
Wait, wait, wa--
No, no, no. Come here.
Come here, come here.
Come on. Not that way.
-Shh. Hold that.
Hold that for me. -Okay.
-Take it.
-Oh, thank you. Thank you.
-I'm gonna take 'em out.
-Okay.
And you're gonna stomp
their heads as we pass.
-Yeah.
-Make sure they're 86'd.
Got it?
I can't stomp on their heads!
Course you can.
The human skull is
shockingly brittle.
What?
It's just like crushing an egg.
Or you hit-- You ever hit
a melon with a hammer?
It's like-- You just lift up
your leg and crush.
Like that, right?
No, no. It's great.
It's fun.
Like the twist.
You ever do the twist?
It's like doing the twist.
One, two, three and...
crush that head.
One, two, three.
I don't dance.
I don't crush skulls.
Well, then this should be
a fun new experience for you.
Three, two, one.
Let's go.
Okay. You can do this.
Twist and crush.
Twist and crush.
Okay.
Twist and...
And...
Oh, I can't do this.
I can't do this.
Elly, what's happening?
Elly! What happened
to all the crushing?
What happened?
Uh...
I-- I did my job.
You didn't do your job.
Uh, yes, right. No.
So, I wanted to, I did.
-Yeah.
-It just, uh--
It didn't really seem necessary.
You know?
You were saying?
My bad.
Oh, no.
There's more of them?
Where you going?
Where you going?
That was convenient.
Okay.
All right, wait a second.
Aidan, Aidan, that bar.
This boat. The boat key.
This is Bakunin.
This is Bakunin's escape plan.
He must have left a-a-a rope
or a-a ladder
or something to get down.
No, we're gonna jump.
-What?
-We're gonna jump.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
-We're-- We're three stories up.
-You were right.
Bakunin thought
this whole thing through.
-Underneath that tarp
is a crash mat. -No.
-Guaranteed, I'm telling you.
-What if you are wrong?
Look, trust me. Look where
I've gotten you so far.
Yeah, cornered on a roof,
about to be k*lled.
-Okay, fair point.
-Oh, my God.
Let me ask you something.
You trust Alfie, right?
Of course.
Thank God.
Holy sh*t.
It worked.
-Oh, thank God. Oh, my God. No.
-We're gonna jump.
-Arms out, landing on our back.
-No.
-It's gonna-- Like a trust fall.
-No.
-You ever do a trust fall?
-No.
-It's gonna be great.
-Oh, my-- Oh, God.
Alfie's all on his own.
-We gotta get down there.
-Oh, God. Oh, my God.
Look at him,
he landed like a ninja.
He's totally fine.
-Ready? On the count of three.
-Okay. Oh, my God. Oh, God.
-One, two...
-Oh, God.
three!
Alfie...!
Okay.
-Alfie, Alfie.
-Come on, we're sitting ducks.
-Thank God.
-Let's go. Come on. Let's go.
-You wanna get sh*t?
-You're my sweet little baby.
They got away, sir.
I'm so sorry, Mr. Director.
Regret for time wasted
is wasting more time.
Fuel up the jet.
We're taking a little trip
to Europe.
Huh.
When I catch you, Bakunin.
Clever, clever, clever man.
Oh, God, no.
Leave me alone.
Finally,
a little acknowledgment.
Oh, look who wants
to make friends.
You wanna be friends?
Why do you keep pretending
I'm not here?
Because you're not real.
Then why are you talking to me?
No, that's the problem.
You're just a hallucination.
You're there because of
my stress and my anxiety
triggering a visual
coping mechanism or something.
You're just a character
I made up.
Am I?
Yeah, you're a little
pain in the ass.
Get outta here.
Go away.
Get outta here.
You are the author.
Your word is my command.
Ow! God--
Get outta here.
Cat scratched me.
Hmm. I wonder why.
Our boy used a symmetric-key
algorithm to encrypt it.
Feistel construction?
Lai-Massey scheme.
Straight out of book one.
Huh.
You actually do
know your Argylle.
Yeah, that wasn't bullshit on
the train. I'm a loyal reader.
You're one hell of a writer,
Elly Conway.
Okay.
You're not
a half-bad spy either.
Yeah.
Well, thank you.
The, um, shower's all yours.
You trying to tell me something?
Although, I sh--
Probably should do that.
Yeah, okay. I can take a hint.
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Leave him alone, buddy.
Leave him alone. Come here.
Come here, sweetheart.
Hey. Yeah.
Yeah, I got her.
I don't know,
some fleabag motel.
She doesn't suspect
a g*dd*mn thing.
No, no, no.
Look, she's driving me nuts.
Elly Conway
needs a b*llet in her head.
No, listen.
I bring her to you,
and then we end it. Okay?
I'm done with this sh*t.
Yeah.
No, no. That's it. That's it.
Hey.
What are you doing
here again, Leonard?
How much sugar can one man need?
-I-I don't get it.
-Huh? No, no.
I-I'm not here for sugar.
It's your daughter,
calling collect from London.
It's Elly.
-Hello.
-Mom? Mom, hi.
Elly, oh, baby,
we were worried sick
when you didn't show up.
What are you doing in London?
Leonard, I'm trying
to speak with my daughter.
Can we have some privacy,
please?
But it's my phone.
Mmm, like it was my sugar.
Did I pester you for it back?
Go home, Leonard.
Elly, wait.
You got on an airplane?
That is great.
Yeah, well,
not as great as it sounds.
I'm in some
really big trouble, Mom.
Trouble?
What kind of trouble?
It's-- It's--
It's complicated, um--
I-I-I-I can't say,
not on an open line.
Open line?
Oh, so now you're trying to give
me a full-blown anxiety att*ck.
That's it.
Come home, Elizabeth.
No. No, I can't.
I don't have any money,
I can't use my credit cards,
I have no passport.
I-- I-- I just-- I just didn't
know who else to call, okay?
Well, then
we'll come to you, dear.
Barry! Book us flights
to London! England!
Do you remember the hotel
that I put you and Dad up
for your 30th anniversary?
Like I'd forget. It's the, um--
The--
Don't say it out loud.
But book the same suite there.
If anyone asks, say it's a--
a business trip for Dad.
One of his, um,
dental conferences.
Elly. Oh, my God.
Elly, oh.
Are you okay? Are you hurt?
Yeah-- No, no, no.
I'm fine, I swear.
-I swear.
-Are you sure?
-Yeah.
-Okay, then give me Alfie.
You must be starving, dear.
I ordered all your favorites.
Oh, thank God. I'm so thirsty.
And you, Alfie.
Mmm.
Look, I didn't
forget you either.
Okay, now, is this all
a tax thing?
Because we assumed it was taxes.
No, Mom. Mom, it-it's not--
It's not a tax thing.
Listen, were you guys followed?
Followed?
Who on earth would want
to follow us? Dear.
I-I-I can explain, or try to.
Where's Dad?
Down the hall, getting ice.
This whole
cloak-and-dagger business, dear,
it's scaring me. Okay?
Now, I just wanna know--
-Don't open the door.
-It's your father dear.
No, no. Wait, wait, wait,
Mom! Mom!
-Elly.
-Dad.
This damn hotel.
They make you call room service
for ice, can you believe it?
Come here, Ells Bells.
Oh, Dad.
I'm-- I'm so sorry
-I dragged you and Mom
into this. -Oh.
I didn't have
anywhere else to turn.
Don't apologize. It's what--
It's what parents are for,
no matter how old you get.
Oh, my God, you're
trembling, hon.
Sit down.
Come on, sit down.
It's all going to be just fine.
And what do we always say?
-"This too shall--" Well?
-"This too shall pass."
-No, I-I-I know.
-Yeah. Yeah.
But I sort of think this one
might not pass as, um...
...easily.
-Oh?
-Uh, okay.
So, something I wrote
in my new book,
something I-I made up,
got too close
to something very real.
And because of it,
a rogue spy agency--
A real Directorate
suddenly thought I could help
them recover this digital file
they'd been searching for,
and so they came after me.
-Hmm. Well... how did you
get away, dear? -Hmm.
Oh, well, another spy saved me.
He-- He promised
he could protect me
if I helped him track down
that same file first.
He convinced me
he was the good guy
until I found out he was not.
So, I swiped the only lead
we had on this file and--
It's like
a hacker's logbook or something.
And, um, came here and--
Well, I just...
I-I-I-I just don't know
who to trust.
So, now you're experimenting
with dr*gs, dear?
-Ruth!
-Mom!
-What?
-No!
-Oh, look at her eyes.
-That's not what's happening.
-Look at the--
-Elly. Elly. This--
This logbook, where is it?
Did you bring it?
Oh, yeah. Yeah, it's--
It's over there.
It's-it's in my cat pack.
Oh, okay.
You have to go to the police.
Or the FBI.
No, Mom, you don't understand.
These people,
they have eyes everywhere.
Well, we can't just do nothing.
No, you have to take it
to the press.
That's what you do.
Take it to Anderson Cooper.
Someone like that, they can--
They-- I don't know---
Barry, wha--
Barry, what do you think?
Barry!
-God.
-Pay attention, dear.
What do you think?
I'm just--
I-I'm just happy that--
that you made it here
safe and sound
and that psychopath
didn't hurt you.
God forbid
something happened to you,
I don't know
what your mother and I would do.
-I think you'd manage just fine.
-What's happening?
Oh, God. Mom, quick,
quick, quick, get behind me.
No, no, no.
Don't k*ll us, please.
I'll get you money. I'll get--
No, no, no.
Oh, I--
Uh, you have me mistaken
for someone else.
-Shut up.
-I'm a dentist.
Aidan, don't do this.
It's not what it
looks like, Elly. Let her go.
-This is all my fault.
-Oh, please don't.
Oh, God. Dad.
-You gotta trust me, Elly.
-Trust you?
You said you wanted
to put a b*llet in my head.
I heard you!
Oh, you take things
way too literally.
-Oh, God.
-But I would love to put
a b*llet in his head, I mean it.
Enough.
You k*ll me,
the Division will never
stop hunting you. Never.
Dad?
What?
He's not your dad.
Don't you see?
And she's not your--
Shut up, Wilde.
Don't think
I won't enjoy k*lling her.
Mom?
Let's go.
That's Dad and Mom.
Hey. Shh. Just look at me.
Hey, you gotta trust me.
You just sh*t my mother!
That's not your mother.
That woman just tried to
blow your brains out.
Who's the only person
who hasn't tried to k*ll you
in the last 72 hours?
Intentionally. Let's go.
Come on! Let's go!
Get in the car! Let's go!
-What about Alfie?
-Alfie?
-I forgot Alfie.
-The cat?
I can't leave him.
I have to go back. I have to.
You're kidding me.
He is the only family I have.
Please.
You wanna go up there
and die with the cat?
Or do you wanna come with me
and hear the truth?
It's your call.
But there's more
bad guys coming, Elly.
Make the call.
What's wrong? You okay?
Am I okay?
-Oh, boy.
-You're asking if I'm okay?
My parents
just tried to k*ll me.
My mom, who, oh, oh,
by the way, is suddenly British,
put a g*n to my head.
I have nobody to trust.
And Alfie is with
these-- th-these monsters.
They have my Alfie and I'm never
gonna see him again, am I?
I'm never gonna see Alfie again.
So, I don't know. I don't--
I don't know, Aidan,
you tell me.
You tell me, do you think I'm--
Do you think I'm okay?
Okay, maybe that
was a dumb question.
I can tell you one thing
you're wrong about.
You do have someone
you can trust.
And trust me,
you need some rest, kid.
I'm-- I'm not tired.
Trust me, you are.
The greater the spy,
the bigger the lie.
Everything is going to be okay.
Morning, sunshine.
Where are we?
Ol, France.
I mean, buongiorno, France.
It's--
It's bonjour.
That's what I said.
You like France?
Tell you what, French people,
they give me the crpes.
Get it? Crpes?
I have more where they
came from, let me tell you.
Wow.
Well, well.
The prodigal spy returns.
-That it?
-Mm-hmm.
Good man.
Elly, this is Alfie.
Alfie?
Oh, sh-- Her cat--
She named her cat Alfie.
It's a perfect name.
For a very cool cat.
Alfie.
-As in Alfred Solomon?
-Yeah.
The former Deputy Director
of CIA, Alfred Solomon?
No more tears. I promise.
Thank you.
Would you like to go for a walk?
Sure.
You a wine drinker?
-Yeah, sometimes.
-Mmm.
Pinot noir.
One of the oldest grapes
there is.
Been around
since the Roman Empire.
Grown all over the world.
But you know why
the wine we make
tastes so distinctly different
from a pinot made in,
say, Napa or Tuscany?
-Mm-mm.
-Same grape.
The difference is
where it's been.
A summer heat wave gets you
a more exotic, tropical flavor.
High elevation gives you a--
an acidic varietal and so on.
They're products
of their environment.
The terroir,
as the French call it.
Can't know what a grape is
till you know
what it's been through.
This is how the ancients
fermented their wine.
A technique forgotten by history
until thousands of years later,
when a French farmer
stumbled upon the ruins
of vats like these
buried on his property.
Et voil.
What was lost was now found.
That's the thing about the past,
it's persistent.
It can be buried
but still down there,
waiting for the right person
to come along and dig it up.
Come in.
What is all this?
Wh-- Why--
Why are we here?
Because, Elly Conway,
it's time for you
to meet the real Agent Argylle.
Those books you write?
Aidan told you
they were predictions.
Well, they're not.
They're memories
of who you truly are.
Welcome back, Agent R. Kylle.
This is BS.
BS! Your friend? Loony tunes!
Do you hear me? Loony tunes!
I am a writer!
Nothing more, nothing less.
Regardless of whatever
deepfake nonsense
he just showed me.
Oh, for the love of baby Jesus!
I can't even believe
what's happening to me!
Stop whining!
Your name is Rachel Kylle
and you don't whine
about anything.
You're calling this whining?
You think spy novels
are cheesy crap!
You don't even like cats.
You're a dog person.
I am not!
I am Elly. Elly Conway.
Well, I miss Rachel.
I'm sorry.
You clearly miss somebody
who is not me, okay?
Okay, fine.
You know what? I never wanna see
Elly Conway ever again.
Car is all yours.
Au revoir, Elly.
Great. Au revoir.
-What?
-Yeah.
Let's go. How fast are you?
Hi, Rachel.
I wanna know everything.
So, we meet again, Lai-Massey.
My old foe.
What is taking so g*dd*mn long?
I put myself out there in the
field to capture these images.
There are my results.
Where's yours?
Decrypting a Lai-Massey scheme
takes time, Mr. Director.
No, no, no.
But there is no time.
Everything hinges on this.
Why all the lies?
I mean, why didn't you just
come out and tell me?
We had to let your memories
come back
in their own time, naturally.
Otherwise,
you could lose everything
that's buried in there for good.
What happened to me?
Okay.
Last time I saw you was
the morning you left
to rendezvous with Bakunin
at the Albert Memorial.
It wasn't me who went there.
It was you.
And you never came back.
We still don't know
what went wrong,
how things went south that day.
We just know that you turned up
in a local ER in a coma.
A Jane Doe, found on
the banks of the Thames.
Which is where the Division
found you.
By the time I tracked you down,
they'd already moved you
to a hospital in the States.
Rachel, open your eyes.
There you go.
Do you remember me?
Do you know who you are?
You weren't Rachel anymore.
You were a blank slate.
Couldn't remember a thing.
So the Division
tried a different approach.
One day, a woman I knew
as Dr. Margaret Vogler,
Chief of Psyops
for the Division,
walked in with Ritter.
-We're your parents.
-Mmm.
Your family.
-You are Elly.
-Conway.
A small-town waitress
who survived
a terrible skating accident.
We brought in a few things
so that you can remember
who you are.
They laid it on real thick.
Look at this, your music box.
Brought you mementos
handpicked by Vogler.
Visual triggers to remind you
of the life they wanted you
to believe you'd led.
Ice-skating award. That's right.
Mmm. And this.
-Lights, please, dear.
-Oh, yeah.
Remember.
Vogler's work
was MKUltra on steroids,
Manchurian Candidate-
type stuff.
Elly.
Ice-skating.
They brainwashed you, Elly.
It's as simple as that.
Hey.
Dad. Mom.
Which left me
with only one place to turn.
Alfie, the man who trained us.
He opened an investigation,
but without the master file
as proof,
Ritter had him dismissed
as a conspiracy theorist
and has been hunting him
ever since.
With Alfie on the run and
no one else left to stop them,
the Division set about
the last part of their plan.
Now that you're starting
to remember who you are,
we thought it might be time
to give you back your journal.
Yeah.
So you can finally write
all the stories
that you've wanted to tell.
The journal that
they gave you was a phony,
written by Dr. Vogler.
All she did was give you
the building blocks of your life
with just enough distance
from the truth
to protect the actual names,
places, events.
Hoping to get a glimpse
of your real memories
through the stories
they encouraged you to tell.
Crazy part is it worked.
You started to write a
novelization of your real life.
We just had to sit back
and watch it play out.
Book by book,
you got closer and closer
until, last week,
you were on the verge
of giving the Division
exactly what
they needed to know.
At which point they were gonna--
They'd k*ll me.
I wasn't gonna let that happen.
Not on my watch.
Wait, so, you've been watching
me for the last five years?
Yeah, I guess I have, but,
you know, not in a creepy way.
Just because
you forgot who you were...
...doesn't mean I ever did.
I know you better than
you know yourself, kid.
Who am I, Aidan?
Well,
once upon a time,
there was a CIA operative,
just about the finest field
agent Langley ever trained.
Which is why you were recruited
by the Division.
And just like in your books,
there was a real Wyatt.
You're the real Wyatt?
You're welcome.
Oh, I just--
I pictured Wyatt so much...
Bigger? Stronger? Yeah.
Mmm.
I guess that's how
your unconscious remembered me.
I'm flattered, I think.
There's a real Keira too.
Look familiar?
Unfortunately,
Vogler didn't need to change
the way you described her
in your books.
Because of
what happened in Greece.
So Keira... actually--
Well, then let's get the hell
out of here.
k*lled in action.
sh*t through the heart,
just the way you wrote it,
by the real Legrange.
Book six, I-I-I was gonna
bring her back, you know?
A reader had
emailed in this insane,
brilliant idea for a twist.
More insane than all of this?
Guess not.
Agents!
Get yourselves down here!
Lai-Massey
just got its ass whipped
by me!
The data in Bakunin's logbook
tells us he left the master file
with the Keeper of Secrets,
Miss Saba Al-Badr.
According to the Koran,
to keep another's secret
is a divinely mandated duty.
To divulge it, an unholy sin.
Miss Al-Badr has taken that
belief to a whole nother level.
Now, Bakunin
left specific instructions
that the master file is to
be retrieved by one person
and one person only:
the agent
he was making the deal with
and an old acquaintance
of the Keeper's,
Rachel Kylle.
No. No. No, no.
If the Keeper
is expecting Rachel Kylle,
she will know something's up
when she meets me.
I get anxiety,
I have panic att*cks.
Uh-uh, only because you've been
systematically conditioned to
by Vogler.
Well, whatever
they did to my head worked,
because I am not okay.
I can't pull off
a-a-a spy mission.
I can't even look at him
without seeing Argylle.
Yes, Argylle speaks to me.
And you know what?
I find it kind of reassuring.
I mean, don't you get it?
I am losing my mind.
You are not losing your mind.
You are finding it.
Argylle is your subconscious
fighting to tell you
who you really are.
Elly.
Elly.
If you can write Agent Argylle
for five years,
you can be Rachel Kylle
for one night.
You got this.
I know you do.
We can do it together.
Good.
Let's get you two
suited and booted.
And if you can't remember
the reality,
I suggest you both dress
like the fantasy.
Looking good.
Not feeling very good.
It's gonna be all right.
I think I'm gonna need a drink.
It's a dry palace, Elly.
Alcohol and keeping secrets
don't pair well together.
Two club sodas, please.
When the Keeper's ready,
she'll summon us.
For now, just relax.
Listen, if you're nervous,
that's okay.
Why would I be nervous?
Of course I'm not nervous.
There's nothing to be
nervous about, right, Aidan?
Thank you.
Of course I'm nervous.
I'm freaking out.
I'm totally freaking out.
You know what's good
for nerves? Dancing.
-Dancing?
-Yeah.
-There's no one dancing.
-Just blend in.
You're the only person dancing.
What about this?
Aidan, I can't dance, so...
Maybe Elly Conway can't dance,
but Rachel Kylle sure could.
-I can't dance.
-Oh, sure you can. You got it.
God. I do-- I don't know.
I don't know about--
Let's get silly. What's this?
This is ridiculous.
No, Aidan. No.
Oh, you're not
getting away that easily.
This jet plane's all fueled up,
it's taking off.
-Can't dance, huh?
-No.
Then what the hell is this?
-Remember the whirlybird?
-What?
Rachel's go-to. Let me tell you.
-What do you mean?
-Yeah, book four.
-Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no...
-Yeah. Oh, it's happening.
No, no, no, no, no.
It's my song.
No.
Our song.
This was our song.
What do you mean?
Started in, uh, Mogadishu.
Agents in the field,
the heat of battle.
It happens, and it happened
again and again.
We just kept finding ways
to find each other, I guess.
How long were we, um...
Till the day you disappeared.
When I tell you
the second I saw you
on that train...
...that's been
the toughest part.
What has?
Pretending not to love you, kid.
Hardest mission of my life.
So, we were good together?
Pretty g*dd*mn great,
if you ask me.
Just have to take
my word for it.
No.
I won't.
I remember.
Apologies,
but public displays of affection
are not permitted.
-Ooh, sorry.
-Of course.
Uh, we were just
wrapping that up, boss.
Sorry.
The Keeper will see you now,
Miss Kylle.
Oh, great.
Uh, just Miss Kylle.
Enjoying the soiree?
Uh, yes. Lovely. Thank you.
The legendary Rachel Kylle,
pretending to be a timid spy
novelist for five long years.
Bravo, my darling. Bravo.
But you must have missed it.
Hmm?
Missed what?
All of it.
The k*lling, the lying.
Me.
I'm not really here for
a trip down memory lane, so...
Of course not.
Please sit.
When your job
is to keep secrets,
you learn to spot a lie.
Which leaves me puzzled
because I watched you
as Elly Conway,
I never saw one.
I was deep cover.
I played the part well.
Too well, it often seemed.
So, tell me, who are you really?
Agent Kylle or Elly Conway?
Because I don't believe
you're both,
and only one is walking
out of this room alive.
I, um--
I don't know what to say.
Of course you do.
You don't need me.
You just need you.
Farewell.
Other than that
in my line of work, Saba...
...you tend not to give a sh*t
what a bottom-feeder
like yourself
thinks about anything.
So, I'm afraid I must ask...
Are you going to give me
my g*dd*mn box,
or are you going to
make me take it?
Perhaps you haven't changed
so much after all, Agent Kylle.
You're welcome
to use my computer.
And how do I know that's secure?
There is a reason
I'm the Keeper of Secrets.
It's because I keep them.
Oh, Aidan, you're gonna be
a very happy camper.
Jackpot, Alfie boy.
sh*t.
No. No, no, no, no, no, no.
Hey. There she is.
What do we got?
How'd it go? How'd it go?
That's my--
All right. I'm so proud of you.
Aidan, there's something
I need to know, okay?
-Yeah?
-I need to know wh--
Who you can trust?
Hmm.
Well, now I know who I can't.
Oh, now, don't blame our host.
Blame yourself
for showing Ritter the ledger.
And you, please don't
try anything stupid.
Unlike the Savoy,
I don't need to wear
a bulletproof vest in here.
Before either of us
could start anything,
the Keeper's men
would finish it.
So, what do we do now?
Mmm. How about
a nice cup of tea?
I'll be Mother.
All right. I'll be Father.
You first.
Hmm.
So, you read what was
on that drive, didn't you?
You're starting
to learn the truth, Rachel.
It's coming back to you,
isn't it?
Starting to remember.
Yes. Remember why
you went to Bakunin.
Remember who sent you.
You found me in record time.
Maybe you are as good
as they say.
Keep going.
Follow the memory.
Wire transfer complete.
Spasibo.
Then give me
what I came here for.
Yeah, it's not here.
Don't look so surprised.
Relax, sweetheart.
File's still yours.
It's waiting for you,
and only you,
with the Keeper of Secrets
herself.
Al-Badr?
Rachel, follow the memory.
Keep going.
Our business here is done.
I k*lled Bakunin.
-What?
-Of course you did.
You never let us down, Rachel.
You were the most loyal
of all the Division's acolytes.
Tell me that's not true.
You tell me that's not true.
Tell me that's not true!
Listen to me, you--
Weapons are not allowed.
But sleeping aids?
Perfectly acceptable.
Ah, there she is.
Where am I?
You're home, my dear.
"Dear"?
Are we still,
uh, dad and daughter?
Well, whether you
remember yet or not...
May I?
I do care about you, Rachel.
And watching you
these past five years
live this pathetic existence...
...a lion convinced
she's a lamb,
just... just k*lled me.
Are you my daughter? No.
But I am the man who helped you
grow into the woman
you were destined to become.
Huh.
But we still have a problem.
Problem?
You have the master file.
Yes, but what
we don't have is Alfie.
He will never stop
trying to expose us.
-So, please, just...
-Mmm.
...let us know where he is.
Ritter, I don't know.
I'm not lying. I don't know.
I don't. It was a-- a vineyard
somewhere in the middle
of the French countryside.
Aidan knows.
He took me there.
I was sleeping.
Well, despite our efforts
of persuasion, he won't talk.
I see.
I can get it out of him.
Let the lamb roar.
I'll make you a deal.
Follow me.
You give me my Alfie,
and then I will give you yours.
Do whatever you want with him.
I hate cats.
Me too.
Shall we?
Yes.
Do you like it?
We had this reconstructed
for when
the director and I
were needed on base
but you wanted to FaceTime
dear old Mum and Dad.
Agent Wilde here
still refuses to speak.
Oh, not surprising.
But we're going to try
something else.
Aidan, please, tell them.
Or this'll get ugly fast.
Where is Alfie?
Are we talking
about the cat again?
'Cause, man...
k*ll me.
k*ll me now, fellas.
If you tell me now,
I promise he won't suffer.
But the longer you take
to answer the question--
and you will answer--
that'll be the length of time
I take to k*ll him.
Do you understand?
How about this?
How about I answer your question
when you answer
one of mine first? Cool?
You don't wanna f*ck with me
right now, Aidan.
There's one thing
I can't quite square away.
Once you knew I knew the truth
about the Division,
you could've k*lled me.
Could've ended it right there,
but you didn't. Why?
It seems
we serve the same master.
Cut your feed.
I think it's because...
you-- you wanted out too.
Just ignore him.
You were Division
through and through.
You always were.
It is why you k*lled Bakunin.
You k*lled Bakunin
because you were playing
both sides of the fence
till the very last second.
You were gonna get that file
and do the right thing.
I know you were.
'Cause...
Elly Conway,
that person,
that's not all pretend,
you know.
They can't erase that person.
All that goodness,
that's in you.
That's who Elly Conway is,
and that's who you are.
My name is Rachel Kylle.
We're gonna wanna check his
necklace for a tracking device.
What about Alfie?
How the hell
are we gonna find him now?
He was never going to tell us.
That was a complete
waste of time.
Besides, my mind is clear now.
I know how to find him.
I checked my watch
when we got there,
so it was at least
a 12-hour drive.
Couldn't have been in Burgundy.
Let's see here.
Okay, I'm gonna pull up OpSpecs
for every mission I was ever on
in the South of France.
See if it jars anything.
-Not so hard now, mate,
are ya, eh? -Oh, come on, mate.
-Leave it. He was kind of
a legend. -Ah, a legend?
-Well, yeah, he was.
-Yeah.
-"Was" is the key word. Was.
-Just--
No, no, no, no, no, no.
It was him--
Is that
legendary enough for you?
His car.
His car was parked outside.
French license plates
are numbered by region.
His was 70.
Seventy... something.
I'm sure of it.
Meaning what?
Meaning it is south of Avallon
and north of Cluny.
It means we're close.
It means we're almost there.
Director Ritter, it's clean.
No tracking device, sir.
Excellent.
Almost there.
You can always count
on Agent Kylle, hmm?
Almost.
Found him.
Brilliant.
Brava, Agent.
Better yet,
because you gave me access
to your mainframe,
I just sent the master file
to Alfie.
What?
Because I remember everything.
Almost everything.
Alfie, baby, are you okay?
I didn't mean a word
of what I said.
Okay, we're gonna go
on a little adventure right now.
Red alert! Red alert!
Okay.
You gotta be kidding me.
How are you still alive?
Remember
the last time I saw you?
You scratched me.
Now look who has a claw.
Mano a mano.
Aidan, it's me.
Okay, I'm putting down my g*n.
On the ground.
I'm gonna get up
very slowly, okay?
Same side, Aidan.
Same side.
Same side, huh?
You sh*t me in the heart!
Two words, vascular corridor.
It's how I was
gonna bring Keira back.
Book six, remember?
Keira.
There's a two-inch space
you hit at just the right angle,
it looks like
a sh*t to the heart,
but the b*llet
will go through and through...
I can save her.
...as long as
you stop the bleeding.
That's the dumbest thing
I've ever heard in my life.
Then why are you still alive?
You purposely sh*t me through a
two-inch passageway in my chest
after not f*ring a g*n
for five years,
based on an idea a fan sent in.
-Is that right?
-Yeah. I me--
I mean, I did do the research
on it but, uh, ye-- yes.
Yeah, essentially,
that's it. Mm-hmm.
Who's the fan? Jeffrey Dahmer?
Yeah, that's impressive.
I'd like to meet that fan.
Yeah.
Well, you and me both.
Sir, I've found her.
She's in the armory.
Put it up.
-With Agent Wilde.
-What?
How is this assh*le alive?
But right now, we have to get
to the server room
on the ground floor
to send Alfie the master file.
Which means we'll have to
make it through every soldier
the Division has on this base,
who Ritter has now had
enough time to make sure
are waiting for us
on the other side of that door.
So, what do you say, Aidan?
Wanna dance?
Oh, man.
I thought you'd never ask.
I can't see sh*t.
Nolan, I can't see anything!
Give me thermal imaging now.
Thermal imaging coming up now.
Open the extraction vents.
All of them.
Come on.
Carlos!
Take every unit you have
and go now.
I mean every single unit.
Yes, sir.
Hold fire! Hold your fire!
One spark and we could all die!
Shut down the pumps.
Shut it all down!
Holy sh*t.
He's right.
It's crude. It's oil.
What is this place?
g*ns down, boys.
Knives up.
Hey, will you check
on Alfie? Is he okay?
Yeah. Yeah, Alfie's fine.
We're not.
Yeah.
Well, if we're
gonna go out with a bang,
let's go out with a bang,
you know what I mean?
Ice-skating.
Huh?
Are those memories real?
Oh, yeah. I mean,
apart from the accident, yeah.
You can skate. You're--
Y-You're a really good skater.
The kissing memories
are pretty real too.
-Hold this.
-Do you--
What do you got in mind,
hot sauce?
Mama's gotta get to work.
Rachel!
For the record,
I hated your books.
Come on.
Let's write your final chapter.
Let's write yours.
Come on!
Let's finish this!
Ignore all safety protocols.
Open fire now!
sh**t her!
Now that deserves a kiss.
How about a hot date
in the server room?
If you need something
done right...
Once we authorize
the file to send,
Alfie will get them in minutes.
You really know
what you're doing.
Now this should bypass
all the security system codes,
and then it's game over
-for these--
-Good job.
Oh, no.
What?
What's that? What's going on?
She discovered that she'll need
an authorized retina scan
to get into the system,
and these are
the only peepers that will do.
Some safeguards we put
into place after Bakunin.
You were quite a team.
You can now say
that you d*ed as a team,
and that will happen
right here, right now.
Jesus!
Just get him off me! Get it off!
Oh, sh*t. The eyes.
Alfie, you are such a good boy.
Oh, baby.
Yes, I am so proud of you.
Your little cat assassin
scratched the sh*t
out of Ritter's eyes,
but I think we needed those.
-What's the plan?
-I know what to do.
Come on. Follow me.
Roof.
Holy moly.
This is it.
We can bypass the security
using the satellite dome.
You taught me that.
You're welcome.
Now we're talking.
Here we go, Lakers. Here we go.
Overriding mainframe.
Accessing outbox.
And just like that...
Good morning, Alfie.
Here we go.
What is that?
Where the hell's it coming from?
Agent R. Kylle.
Gamma. Delta. Bravo.
Epsilon. Psi. Omega.
Target: Wilde.
What?
Hey. Wha-- Whoa, whoa.
What are you doing?
What are you doing?
Activate.
g*dd*mn it! Come on!
Stop!
Yes!
You don't wanna do this.
She programmed you.
I'm not gonna fight you.
You're wasting your time.
Remember who you are!
Wilde!
Jesus!
Come on. Come on!
Baby--
It's okay.
I just gotta k*ll her.
I'm gonna get you.
Don't make me do this.
I don't wanna hurt you!
Enough!
I'm afraid
you'll have to k*ll her first.
I'm not gonna fight you.
I can't k*ll you.
Finish him.
I know you can't
hear me, but--
I love you.
Always have.
Always will.
Okay, babe, you got this.
Twist...
...and...
...crush.
You missed.
I think.
Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
What have I done?
What have I done?
-What have I done?
-Hey.
I'm so sorry.
Are you back?
Yeah.
Yeah. I'm back.
Are you okay?
Are you kidding?
Here. Come on. Come on. Get up.
All right. Three, two, one.
Up.
Okay, okay, okay.
Give me your arm.
You got me good. Is that--
I'm seeing two Keiras.
Are you seeing two Keiras?
I see one.
Keira?
Keira!
How are you alive?
Who do you think was the fan
that sent you
the vascular corridor idea?
Personal experience
with that one.
-That's the fan?
-Mmm.
Yeah. Come on.
Though when I didn't
hear back from you,
I realized you really had
forgotten everything.
So I burrowed my way
into the Division's networks,
waiting for the moment
to strike.
And then when I saw
that they brought you in,
I thought,
"The moment has arrived."
Damn straight.
Aren't you forgetting something?
Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoo!
Yes!
I need you to know,
I was always gonna bring you
the master file.
Argylle had timed
the charges perfectly.
As the ship sank,
and the Directorate
along with it,
he realized that, for
the first time in a long time,
there was no next mission
to go on,
target to acquire
or thr*at to neutralize.
For the first time,
Argylle was finally free.
And now our final questions
for the one and only
Elly Conway.
All right, uh...
Yeah. Right down here.
Hi.
If we're never gonna get
another Argylle adventure,
you've got to at least tell us,
what do all of these characters
do once the story is over?
Hmm.
Well,
I'd like to think
Alfie got the Distinguished
Intelligence Medal from CIA
after using the master file
to expose
the Directorate's
remaining agents.
Keira--
Well, Keira always said
that she could be Steve Jobs,
so I think that's what she did.
She went out, monetized the tech
she developed
for the Directorate,
and proved she was right.
Mmm.
And as for Argylle and Wyatt...
...they're partners.
So whatever it is
they do next...
...I'm sure they'd do it the way
they did everything else.
False alarm. False alarm.
Together.
So proud of you. Love you.
Okay. Next question.
Uh. Yeah, the gentleman,
yellow shirt in the back.
Uh, yeah. I don't have
a question as such, but, uh...
...maybe you have
one or two for me.
Cosmopolitan
with a twist, please.
Does it look like
we're in a club or a pub?
Hold the vodka.
Yeah?
The Cointreau.
The cranberry juice.
Just the twist.
Coming right up.
You must be in a lot of trouble
if they sent you to me, darling.
That... is a twist.
What's your name?
Aubrey.
Aubrey Argylle.
Argylle (2024)
Moderator: Maskath3