East and west,
do not mistrust each other because we're armed.
We're armed because we mistrust each other.
tear down this wall.
James fucking Gascoigne.
How did you find me?
Maybe you're not as good at this spy shit as you think.
It was Satchel, wasn't it?
Satchel gave me up.
I always thought, if I got tagged, it would be by the best.
But you're not the best, are you, Bakhtin?
You're the biggest fucking cunt in the KGB.
Sticks and stones, Jimmy.
That's a nasty black eye.
Given the scale of recent world events,
C will not be joining us.
Yes, of course.
The voices on record are the following:
Myself, senior directorate officer Eric Gray,
our American guest, Emmett Kurzfeld
of the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency,
and returning British operational officer Lorraine Broughton.
Before we begin, Sir,
may I formally request that Mr. Kurzfeld be removed from the debriefing.
What I have to tell you, Sir, is not for the CIA to hear.
Lorraine, you are the subject of this debriefing,
- not its controller. - I understand that.
I was there, in Berlin.
And I'm here with the full executive authority of Langley.
If it'd make you more comfortable,
I could stand behind the mirror with everybody else.
But it's a little crowded back there.
What did you say?
I didn't say anything.
不好意思 你刚说话了吗 洛林
I'm sorry. Did you say something, Lorraine?
Did you hear me say something?
- I thought you said something. - What did she say?
Do you want to play the tape back?
Shall we begin?
Sorry to bring you in on such short notice.
You know C.
- Yes. - We were just going over your file.
I see your Russian is excellent.
An expert in escape and evasion.
Proficient in intelligence collection
and hand-to-hand combat.
It's an impressive set of skills.
Knowing the reds as I do,
she'll need to use every damn one of them.
I'll get straight to the point.
How well do you know James Gascoigne?
Enough to say hello.
We worked together in Istanbul in '85.
Gascoigne was killed last night on a mission in Berlin.
The west German police
fished his body out of the Spree this morning.
And the coroner extracted a 7.62 Tokarev round
- from the base of his skull. - Soviets.
Yesterday, Gascoigne met with a Stasi officer,
We promised Spyglass immunity in exchange for a document on microfilm,
code-named "The List."
Hidden in a Swiss watch, no less.
The List contains every active clandestine officer,
all their shady deals.
It's an atomic bomb of information
that could extend the cold war for another 40 years.
And we believe the man that killed Gascoigne now has it.
Our sources point to Yuri Bakhtin,
a KGB hatchet man with more than a dozen confirmed kills.
So you want me in Moscow?
Bakhtin never got on the flight.
So he's still in Berlin, along with The List.
Everyone's hunting for it.
The yanks, the frogs.
Soviets, of course.
And our man, Percival.
He's our number one in Berlin.
He's your point of contact now.
Straight from the tit of the Virgin Mary.
The Jordache wasn't easy.
It's for my wife's birthday.
That's really nice.
Now, where's that fucking list?
I gave the microfilm to Gascoigne last night.
James didn't show up.
I did my part.
I gave him The List.
You have to get me and my family across.
It's not safe for us anymore here.
The Russians are onto me.
No list, no deal.
- I risked everything. - No list, no deal.
You listen to me, Spyglass.
Without that list,
why shouldn't I take you outside and shoot you in the fucking head?
You are going to kill a Stasi officer?
One that's about to defect to the west? Yeah.
Without an embassy to look after him,
Percival has gone somewhat native.
Gone fucking feral.
Berlin is the Wild West.
If that bloody wall comes crashing down,
we don't want to be under it.
If the Russians get that list, we're all buggered sideways.
You're Elizabeth Lloyd.
A Cambridge-educated lawyer
sent by James Gascoigne's family
to retrieve the body and effects of their recently deceased son.
Your mission is to connect with Percival
and do whatever it takes to get that list home.
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