The Hatton Garden Job Page #4

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sits within the the heart of

London's gold and diamond trade.

We're talking about one of the most

secure retail districts in the country.

A place which the lucky elite

use as their playground.

The place that holds the real glow has

no need to show off to the public.

They keep their secrets buried deep.

The only access

downstairs to the vault

is via the security

staircase which is locked

behind a coded

double-steel door.

Lift access to the vault,

is blocked to maximize the

security of the vault.

There are no cameras in

the basement or vault...

in order to protect the identities...

of those who use this facility.

The only way in or out,

is through the main security gate.

The vault door is as thick as it's wide.

This thing will hold back

a nuclear explosion.

Only God knows the treasures

they hold inside.

It's been a pleasure!

I hope you will be back, Mr. Beethems.

Call me John.

And...

The pleasure's all mine.

How much d'you

think is in there?

All in.

Honestly?

It's impossible to know.

I mean, the shady bastards that use the

place, hide it there for a reason.

But... rough estimate...

Anywhere between one and two hundred?

I'm not sure.

There's a lot of risk.

For at best, what?

40K each?

Million, Kenny. Between one

and two hundred million.

Jesus!

The risks don't seem quite

so bad now, do they, Kenny?

We do a tenth of that and we're talking

the biggest blingo blag in history.

You got a way in?

I got a few ideas, yeah.

And you think we're up to it?

I mean, take a look around. We're not

exactly in the prime of our lives.

OAP's Eleven.

We all play our part,

I know we can.

Where do we start?

What do you want me to do about it?

I'm on my way to work!

I wanna know everything

about that place,

What time they open,

what time they close...

Staff rotations in and out.

I want it all, that's

on you, Terry.

Danny, we're gonna need some

tools, nothing traceable...

We're talking second

hand gear all the way.

Check the markets.

It's not a bargain hunt, Danny...

But think of what you pay.

Just make sure everything works.

We don't wanna find ourselves

down there with nothing

but our limp d*cks in our hands.

Limp dick?

Speak for yourself.

Danny, transportation.

You're the white van man outside.

Where's my envelope?

Christ, it's in the post.

F***ing day.

Most of it, you know what I mean?

Saucy little prick!

Did you clock "Big and ugly"?

Yeah.

Plain clothed security.

They're gonna get nosey if we

hang around here much longer.

We'll change the sport then, aye?

Small.

Medium.

Medium.

F***ing hell, Kenny!

Why is your head so big?

Well, it's not because of the

size of his brain, is it?

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