Transcript

Sullivan: What in the world?

Nate: Charlie, who the hell are we dealing with here?

Charlie: I don't know, mate. But whoever they are, they are seriously weird.

Nate: Look at the ironwork.

Charlie: It's got to be Victorian, maybe older.

Sullivan: Man, all this stuff's been rusting for a century.

Nate: Maybe we can get through here.

Charlie: No way we're moving that.

Sullivan: I don't think so.

Nate: Hey, wait. There's a counterweight up there. Looks like it's stuck.

All right, one of us should climb up there and see if they can dislodge it.

Sullivan: Good idea. Guess who?

Nate: Crap.

All right, I'm almost there.

Sullivan: That ought to work.

Here we go.

Got it?

Charlie: Yep, take your time.

Sullivan: All right.

We're through!

Nate: I'll meet you on the other side.

What the hell is this place?

Oh shit, get down.

Charlie: Good eye. Thanks for having our back.

Nate: Hey, there's Marlowe's car.

Charlie: All right, from here on, no more guns.

Man: Hands up.

Charlie: Oh, hello, mate. We must've taken a wrong turn somewhere.

Sullivan: Yeah, is this King's Cross?

Man: Don't move.

Sullivan: Hey, hey, you got us all wrong, man. We're from Cleveland.

Charlie: Oh, well done, mate

Sullivan: Thattaboy!

What the hell kind of place is this?

Charlie: I've never seen anything like it.

Sullivan: Some sort of train station or something.

Charlie: Yeah, yeah, but it's got to be almost 200 years old.

Sullivan: Jesus, just when you think things can't get any weirder.

Charlie: Shh, get back.

Take them out quietly.

Sullivan: Nicely done, boys.

Nate: Come on. They must've gone through here.

Sullivan: And it gets weirder.

Charlie: Whoa, this stonework.

Nate: Looks like Tudor, 16th century.

Up this way.

Sullivan: Quietly, Nate.

Nate: Hey, over here.

Charlie: No, no, no, no, seriously, who are these people?

Kate: I'm not interested in your excuses.

Sullivan: Sh-shh.

Kate: He was a loose cannon and you should have known.

Talbot: Yes, it is regrettable, but . . .

Kate: Shh, not regrettable, sloppy.

Your poor judgement could have cost us everything.

Four hundred years of searching, finally, Drake's secret will be revealed.

What is this?

Talbot: I don't understand.

Kate: It's a forgery.

Talbot: What?

But that's not possible. I verified it myself.

This isn't the ring.

Kate: Really.

Talbot: I held it in my hands. I saw him put it around his neck. This doesn't make sense.

Kate: We've been duped.

Talbot: Cutter.

Kate: Uh huh.

You men stand guard and stay alert. We may have been followed.

You, come with us. Find them and bring me that ring. I don't care how you get it.