Original subtitles

A little pause... and we are back.

And we.

are back.

And we are back.

And we are back.

A request for immediate clearance.

I've got a cornfield and a... looks like a soybean field, which is going to be softer.

Inclusive.

Never mind.

I'll be in the cornfield.

At this moment, rescue workers are laboring to extinguish the fiery wreckage

of an ill-fated dual-engine aircraft in a perhaps futile attempt to recover and

identify the remains of Anatole Shajah Korda.

International businessman, maverick in the fields of armaments and aviation,

among the richest men in Europe.

This was Korda's sixth recorded airplane crash.

Dogged for years by accusations of profiteering, tax evasion, price-fixing,

bribery, Korda specialized in the mediation of clandestine trade agreements.

His moniker in financial circles, Mr. Five Percent.

He is survived by ten children, nine boys, one novitiate

nun, his daughter Liesl, and is pre-deceased by three wives.

A controversial figure, some will mourn his death, others inevitably will celebrate.

Who was this man?

How do we recognize him?

Does he have even an identity?

Let us consider his life and deeds.

Grandmother.

Why are we here?

I don't know you.

Space.

strapped to a chair.

Surely a horrific display of... actually no, he's still alive.

Mr. Korda, sir.

Oh, fine.

What's that in your hand?

I don't know.

I think it's a vestigial organ.

I tried to get it back in.

It's not as easy as it looks.

The chair recognizes the bureaucrat from Baltimore.

Thank you.

Subject.

Zsa Zsa Korda.

Our single common enemy who works consistently and relentlessly

against the interests of all our competing nations.

The one item only on our agenda which unites us.

He swindles our banks.

He dodges our tariffs.

He ties up our courtrooms in tactical lawsuits.

He provokes war, as well as peace, in direct

conflict with our shared diplomatic agenda.

Subject's new venture relies heavily on personal

capital and wildly overreaches liquid resources.

Our objective, with your approval.

Disrupting, obstructing, impeding, crippling

Korda's enterprise in any manner possible.

With option to cancel in event of subject's sudden and probable death.

All in favor?

Aye.

Liesl, I expect you received news of my death.

The reports were inaccurate, needless to say.

Let me get directly to the point.

I have appointed you sole heir to my estate, which you may come into sooner

rather than later, and provisionally manager of my affairs

after the event of my actual demise on a trial basis.

Why?

Why what?

Why sooner rather than later, since you survived again?

And why am I sole heir to your estate?

You have eight sons at last count.

Nine sons.

Nine sons, what about them?

They're not my heirs.

Why not?

I have my reasons.

Which are what?

My reasons?

I'm not saying.

I'm saying I'm not saying.

It's been six years since our last meeting.

I apologize.

I apologize.

I forgive you.

Are you dying?

Thank you.

No.

But I keep getting assassinated unsuccessfully so far

and I can't allow my enemies to benefit from killing me.

That's the top priority in my life at this time.

If they get me, you get them.

Provisionally.

Like an audition?

Like a trial period.

Of being your daughter?

Of being sole heir to my estate and manager of

my affairs after the event of my actual demise.

The personal family aspect.

I agree.

That matters for the discussion.

But for now there's much to explain and it's all in these shoeboxes.

Borderland and Sea Phoenician infrastructure scheme.

My most important project of my lifetime.

30 years work.

May I move?

Over there.

Over where?

Over there?

Why?

They say you murdered my mother.

What?

They say you murdered my mother.

Who said that?

Who said that?

They.

It's what they say.

I feel they need to address it.

It's why I agreed to come here today.

They say that?

Well, it's... Forgive me.

I know you're pious.

It's a goddamn lie.

I never murdered anybody's mother in my life.

Okay, I have no choice but to take away your word.

I never personally murdered anybody at all.

Ever.

You arranged murders, perhaps?

Don't put words in my mouth.

Of course I didn't and don't.

I've employed violent men to do violence on occasion in the distant past.

I take no relish in it.

They say you murdered all your wives.

I'm gonna sue them for libel in that case, whoever they are.

If you can provide me with their identities.

In fact, I was very fond of your mother and never would

have murdered her under any circumstances whatsoever.

I didn't know her that well.

I thought you came here because I summoned you.

My plan is to be a nun.

Nun anymore, right?

Your brothers are there.

Jasper, David, Philip, Michael, Harry, Jamie, Samuel, Stephen, Thomas.

Hello, boys.

Will they be joining us for luncheon?

Of course not.

They live in a dormitory across the street.

I don't know what they're doing here.

It's today a Saturday.

That might explain it.

How about Jasper or Crossbow?

Be careful of your eyes.

He's a very good shot.

You understand this changes your life.

Listen carefully.

This shoebox contains my idea for the dam we're going to build.

This shoebox contains my idea for the canal we're in the middle of digging.

This shoebox contains my idea for the tunnel we already finished drilling.

My figure sharpens when I suppose I have a suction cup.

This shirtbox contains my plan to assemble the

massive workforce required for the project.

In short, we're going to need slave labor, but that's available to us.

This hatbox contains my negotiations with parents in shipping, mining, and railroads.

These littler sockboxes contain my agreements with titans in banking,

real estate, and black market syndicates.

Excuse me.

Hello?

Yes?

You're not my heir!

Who the deuce is that?

He's been eavesdropping on us.

I'm the new tutor.

Ah, of course.

Welcome.

Bring me the polygraph.

I always keep a tutor on staff to give lessons to animals in my free time.

He's going to teach us about insects and related subjects.

He's an expert in that field.

We'll be with you shortly.

This is my daughter Liesl.

This is Professor... Bjorn.

Professor Bjorn.

In summation, the boxes on this carpet altogether present a blueprint to set the

wheels of commerce in motion throughout a potentially rich, now dormant region.

Then to retain an appropriate, but extremely valuable, 5% of the revenues

for the next 150 years.

This is just... crazy.

Yes, I admit.

If it works, it's a miracle.

We're just going to.

What's in the glovebox?

That's the gap.

We'll discuss that later.

You still didn't sign it?

I told you I'd take my vows at the end of the month.

I told you.

Unfortunately, no.

The Church could claim a lien on our family business.

You can still believe in God if you wish.

The pigeons are there.

Not for me.

I take any food across the bread on the daytime.

How about you?

Me?

I could eat the horse and eat silly a pigeon.

You're invited to lunch in that case.

Thank you, sir.

Point your finger.

Full name?

Diorne Lund.

Place of birth?

Nostro.

Are you wearing a bowtie?

Are you now or have you ever been employed in the conduct of industrial espionage?

No, no, no.

Or engaged as a professional contract assassin for hire?

I guess no.

You and the other couple.

Your bread crust is losing.

Peace be with you, Reverend Mother.

I write with perplexing tidings.

See what I mean?

Poisoned.

Poisoned.

My father has appointed me provisional successor and prospective beneficiary of

his vast fortune gained entirely, as you know, through unholy mischief.

How will your slaves be compensated?

I believe they will receive a small stipend.

It's really up to the king.

We can't interfere on that level.

God, we have something to say about that.

Is he against slavery in the Bible?

I'm against it.

What worth is the pledge of a swindling rogue?

There's a terrible famine in this region.

It's shoebox, I mean.

I know, that's us.

This friendless man bewilders me.

In what sense, that's you?

We did that.

Normally, there'd just be the normal level of poverty there.

But presently, we control the grain.

Now we make our move and we supply provisions in our own terms.

My word.

Is that ethical?

It's damnable.

To hell.

Nevertheless, I foresee an opportunity to accomplish, by the grace of God...

...significant good works with the enormous

resources he proposes to place at my disposal.

And whereas this combination, I can't tell

you where the safe is, that'll mean my will.

Perhaps this could be even his deeper intention.

Where does it come from?

Mexico.

No, not the cactus.

I mean this ruthless brutality.

You don't know me.

The boys live across the street.

There's no love in this house, as far as I can observe.

God is absent.

Why?

I remain profoundly reluctant to leave the order

and long for the hour of my return to sanctuary.

I think it's not my fault.

It's a self-fulfilling prophecy which starts in the nursery.

No one cared about her before me except my

nanny, and she was dismissed and put to shame.

What for?

If she ever stepped her position, it had to be done.

Also, his poor boys, my brothers, thirst and hunger for sisterly affection.

The wings have a scent which gets on your fingers if you catch them.

Some smells like lemon, some smell like chocolate, some smell like urine.

Are you interested in butterflies?

Is that a real question?

Is this an act?

I'm interested in the welfare of all living creatures.

Very good, very good.

What advice can you afford your humble servant, me?

She was murdered, by the way.

Not a suicide, the official ruling.

I think I know who did it.

But I've tried to stay out of it, frankly.

The son of my father.

He's the murderer, I suspect.

The son of your father?

In other words, your brother?

Half-brother.

Uncle Nubar.

He's my mother's murderer.

I suspect.

We always hated each other, of course.

But we do conduct business together through an intermediary.

Because he's very clever.

Thou shalt not kill.

I agree.

We must bring that man to justice if what you say is true.

Brockwood.

Wake up, my honorary.

Yes, sir.

Sign the paper in front of you.

When I soar my ward of solemnest honor, we shall bring

ferocious revenge down upon this cold-blooded butcher.

Your uncle Nubar.

Meaning, get him arrested?

I think so.

He is one of our principal partners, of course.

I'll pry on the matter.

Amen.

God has called me here for a purpose.

No slaves, no famine, no dormitory.

You're on a trial period.

We've annulled your sacred covenant, Miss Lucille.

A secular rosary will arrive from the jeweler later this afternoon.

I hope you'll find it to your liking.

P.S.

How is your rheumatism?

I pray for your health and comfort.

Jasper?

Bless us in the east, our holy guest, which we are about to receive.

What's this about?

Don't make him be religious.

I already did.

We're reading Genesis.

In thy name.

Amen.

Amen.

Why would anybody do something I didn't tell them to do?

Does this soup come from our usual kitchen?

I feel it tastes better.

It does taste better.

I have a French cook.

You have a Belgian cook.

What?

What?

What?

What are you afraid of?

Don't worry.

They eat only worms and crickets and sometimes their own mates.

Are you men or mice?

You should be liars!

No bugs on the table.

I am sorry.

Of course.

Yes, sir?

His nails are good.

Thank you, sir.

They're good.

Also, he likes your soup.

Did you eat dinner with your father when you were a little boy?

No.

A new rule.

From this day forward, you're allowed a maximum of two authorized friends,

each of you.

We're gonna make a list.

Nobody not on that list will be permitted to enter these premises at any time.

Also, a new motto.

Break, but don't bend.

I didn't know you live in a slum.

Fix the leap.

Never buy good pictures.

Buy masterpieces.

Why do you adopt children into this madness?

I play the odds.

Of course, I have my boys, but the adopted ones might turn out to be better.

This fellow could be smarter than Einstein, for all we know.

This is a bashable rivet.

Perhaps the most effective device in mechanical hardware ever conceived for the

purpose of permanently coupling two beams, rods, posts, or pillars.

It's the foundation of modern civil engineering,

though its usage, of course, dates from the Bronze Age.

Regular price, ten for a nickel.

Wake up.

The new plane is on the tarmac.

We're living in ten minutes.

What?

Wake up.

Why?

Where are we going?

I'll tell you in the air.

Tell me now.

I'll tell you in the car.

Tell me now.

Obey me.

I'm going back to sleep.

It's sabotage.

Look, over the past fifty years, the market value of bashable rivets has

risen comely, measurably, from three and a quarter to

twenty-seven and a half Yankee dollars per cake barrel.

Last night, rivets rocketed to nine hundred.

What does that mean for us?

It means the gap explodes.

There's a run on both spikes of pulverized gravel, too.

All category of construction materials across the entire west or near east.

My enemies have manipulated and the markets were manipulated.

Who's that?

Arsonists.

I hired them to burn the house down if necessary for insurance purposes.

They're just doing an assessment right now.

That's not my suitcase.

I got you a new one.

The other one wouldn't be suitable for this voyage.

Looks like a picnic basket.

Today, tonight, and tomorrow, we're rendezvous with every titan in every

shoebox and pretend we agree what we already agreed.

But in fact, we don't.

We can't.

Somebody's got to cover the gap.

How much is the gap?

The gap?

The gap is not like that.

Yes, it's partly a deficit in funding against our total projected revenues.

But more precariously, it's a missing slice

of a pie that was big too big for the painter.

I mean the amount.

Everything we got.

Our entire fortune plus a little bit more.

We've got the tutor.

Initial countermeasures rendered highly effective results, as you can see.

Subject now engaged in desperate campaign of clandestine site visits.

Criss-crossing region to confront each principal partner in an effort to

re-renegotiate terms of charter agreement and salvage enterprise

before official signature signing ceremony end of month.

Also, newly obtained medical report indicates subject

may be suffering trauma from blunt force head injury.

Are those screws or bolts?

Possibly both, likely accumulated over several incidents.

What's in the fruit crate?

Leave that alone, it's fragile.

What is it?

That is fragile.

Leave the fruit crate alone.

But what is it?

It's hand grenades.

You satisfied?

Can you accept not to be careful around it?

Why are we travelling with a box full of hand grenades?

I have extras.

A large number of them.

For me at this time a hand grenade is cheaper than a bullet.

Do you use them?

That's not really the point.

Point your finger.

You'll be acting as my administrative secretary for the time being.

The last one got blown in two as you know.

Marvelous.

That rock sack which you're responsible for contains

all the liquid currency to my name at this moment.

Keep it on your person at all times and don't lose it.

I'll do my best.

Great Scott.

Look at this one.

Isn't it remarkable how he's able to hang on at his airspeed?

What does he hang on at his airspeed?

Should we do a lesson now or should I talk to you?

I expect you know about tarsal segments, the tiny hairs with claw-like structures

that grip microscopic irregularities on an apparently smooth surface.

But the dragonfly is also furnished with little pads... Hold that thought.

...called purveli.

When was your last confession?

I think I was fourteen.

Oh dear.

Do you still believe in God?

Sadly, no.

Are you an atheist?

I'm a scientist.

You're an atheist.

Are you chaste?

Not particularly.

Is that important?

I don't really know.

Are you very terribly pure yourself?

Obviously.

How can you ask me such a thing?

Look at me.

It wouldn't matter in the least.

Even if you were the cheapest girl at the Theotheist

brothel in the seediest red-light district... Oh dear.

...on a swirling orb, nothing could detract from your loveliness.

Thank you.

You're welcome.

I speak my heart.

I'm a Bohemian.

I thought you were born in Oslo.

Not necessarily a Bohemian.

Actually, I've only been to one brothel.

It left me cold.

We're starting our descent.

Prepare your documents before we de-plane so you never delay my schedule.

Passport.

What's yours?

I don't have a passport.

Normal people want the basic human rights that

accompany citizenship in any sovereign nation.

I don't.

My legal residence is a shack in Portugal.

My official domicile is a hut on the Black Sea.

My certificated abode is a lodge perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the

sub-Saharan rainforest accessible only by goatback.

I don't live anywhere.

I'm not a citizen at all.

I don't need my human rights.

What was that?

I think nothing.

It's the same sound I heard last time before the plane exploded, but this time.

..

...it didn't.

So, nothing to worry about.

Myself, I feel very safe.

You have a long journey, don't you?

You must find a suitable place to bury it.

Yes.

I never lost interest in you, by the way.

I always followed your progress with great interest.

Followed how?

Bjorn!

Where's the rucksack?

In the car.

Followed how?

Well, I generally can't bury his operatives observing your activities or

report cards or medical history or personal...

You've been spying on me all my entire life.

It's not called spying when you're the parent.

It's called nurturing.

Or at the very least, interest.

Here comes the prince.

Actually, that's some other fellas.

I think.

Driver, get the hand grenades.

Driver!

You armed yourself.

Good girl.

Oh no, the assassin shot your driver.

I pledge to compensate his family on behalf of the king who regrets the

presence of devilish brigands in the imperial realm.

I think I recognize that assassin.

He used to work for me, maybe.

Who's this?

My daughter, Liesl.

How do you do, your highness?

She's a bride of Christ.

What a pity.

You may address me directly.

I beg your pardon.

You're stunning.

Thank you.

They got her right through the pump.

The driver, I mean.

Poor man.

He didn't suffer.

I believe he did suffer.

I bought you a humble symbol of the gratitude of my father's people for your

heroic endeavors toward the prosperity of our commonwealth.

Another knife.

He's got one, too, under the halberd shawl.

Help me bring more.

I brought it at the airport.

Help yourself to a hand grenade.

You're very kind.

How confident are we in this tunnel?

At the current stage of construction?

One hundred percent.

Don't be alarmed by that tremor.

Would you like to hold my hand?

I was going to suggest the same thing.

Thank you both.

It's a very good tunnel.

Myself, I feel very safe.

Yes, but you're in the habit of surviving.

I beg your pardon.

I don't schedule.

This is not the document we agreed to validate.

What?

Of course it is.

You've been fiddling with it.

The deal's already in place.

This is just a symbolic meeting to make the unfinished tracks.

It's a formality.

Not anymore.

Help yourself to a hand grenade.

Have you been fiddling with it?

Barely.

Liar!

Somebody's got to cover the gap.

Somebody else.

I'll change it back.

We can see the point.

We're walking away.

The resources of our bountiful treasury have been acutely depleted during the

drilling of this... That's not our problem.

It is.

And yours.

Goodbye.

Let's resolve it the way we did in Colorado with

the dispute over the fourth junction client.

Two on two, first to five.

This puts us at a spectacular disadvantage.

I've never played the game in my life.

I don't even know the regulations.

We're the underdog, yes.

I still like our chances.

Basketball, by the way, is their greatest strength.

But it's their greatest weakness.

Two beers, please.

Not for me.

I've never tasted hot liquor in my life, except communion wine.

That's not hot liquor.

Anyway, on a hot day in the dark times... That beer's delicious.

You should drink this.

Okay, two beers.

Call it.

Heads.

Heads.

One zip.

A respectable attempt.

Classic backhand layup.

I beg your pardon.

I didn't say anything.

Did you hear what Mr. Reagan just spoke to me?

When he refers to my mother, he refers to the sovereign

queen of a population of ten million loyal subjects.

He didn't say anything about the sovereign queen.

Don't listen to that.

He's trying to get in your head.

Just play your game, Farouk, if I may call you that, Your Highness.

I don't know how to play my game.

It's utterly foreign to me.

You're good.

I'm not good!

Two zip.

Does that count?

It doesn't count, but I've never seen it done before.

You've got to bounce it when you move.

That's a rule as you'd have imagined.

How well do you know him?

How well do I know... Anatole Korda.

Joshua, your father.

Not well.

Mostly by reputation.

I see.

What's your directive in that case?

My directive?

If you have one.

I would say, I think, to prove himself to me.

Also the other way around.

Am I prying?

Are you prying?

Maybe.

Half and half prying and for selfish reasons

generally concerned for your future welfare.

What's it like?

I wonder.

Climbing to earth on fire.

How many times?

Six so far.

Yikes.

Sportsmanship, gentlemen?

Quite of a game.

Nothing personal.

Get it right this time, you twerp.

Could you imagine falling in love with a man like me by the way that was that tickly?

You're drunk on three beers.

I think I mean it as a genuine question.

Sisters of the cloth do not engage in romantic behaviour of any kind.

Intervow.

In that case, stop flirting with the prince.

Besides, I thought you were not a man anymore.

You're a business lady.

Is this allowed?

You asked me that before.

I don't know what you're talking about.

Left-handed blind man over the shoulder swoop.

Yow!

That was the worst plane crash I ever survived in my life.

I think I died actually.

For about a minute and a half.

It's coming back now.

What's going on?

Did we give up?

Just, as you say, play your game.

I'm not really a sportsman.

I'm more interested in gardening, for instance.

My enemies are everywhere.

I'd like my daughter to come to me.

She's drinking beer in the dining car with your administrative secretary.

Fetch the nut!

He's actually a tutor.

Insects don't like something like this.

Sorry for my bad manners, but the beers were too strong.

I was present at your birth.

The midwife was a leathery old hag.

I cut the umbilical cord with hedge clippers of my own design.

I was very fond of your mother and never would have

murdered her under any circumstances whatsoever.

How'd you get so religious?

My surviving parents sent me to live in a convent at age five.

To keep you away from boys?

Didn't expect you to get brainwashed.

And the only child that did was to try to be a proper father too.

But it wasn't possible.

Your name from my grandmother.

She didn't recognize me.

Is this typical of her?

In my experience, not at all.

Normally I'd say he's the shrewdest, most resourceful businessman alive.

Well, nice shot.

From the end of the train tracks.

If Farouk succeeds, the deal proceeds according

to the original document before I fiddle with it.

But you cover ten percent of the gap and I swear my word is solemnly solid.

Yeah, but me?

You.

Your missus.

His half a million Swiss francs in that rucksack.

It's yours.

The rucksack.

Okay, Farouk, if I may call you that, your highness, take the shot.

Is it acceptable for me to propel the ball in this manner?

We knew your mother.

One moment.

Good husband, what tribute is this?

Money.

It is not your daughter.

You do have my eyes.

Do people not tell you that?

Nobody ever told me I have any when it's anything.

I think I see it.

Except you're assigned to blue.

What's that?

I don't know.

Go find out.

He has my eyes too.

Uncle Nibar.

He's not human.

He's biblical.

What did you pray specifically?

To get Prince Farouk to make that impossible granny shot.

Even as an atheist without God's will, he would have budged it by a mile.

It's not witchcraft.

The phrasing of it, which I don't recall, doesn't matter.

What matters is the sincerity of your devotion.

That's it.

That's what?

No, that's it.

What?

That's it.

The pilot says you got a telephone call on an airplane.

Where is it?

Mr. Saveral Montrachet.

Where is he, Pop?

Hello, Robin.

Hello, hello.

Bonjour, Robert.

Oui, oui, tout se vient de rouler.

Le tonneau?

Il est parfait.

Ah oui, oui.

Les frères sont d'accord pour couvrir le gap.

Ah oui, de la totalité.

Tout le monde a compris.

Oui, oui.

À ce soir.

Bisous, bisous.

Did you just tell Marseille Bob the Sacramento Consulting Brigade to cover the gap?

No.

All of it, you said.

I speak French, of course.

You're fiddling with it again.

Okay, yes, but I'm doing a strategy.

Listen carefully.

Is this supposed to be here?

It was under the lunch trolley.

Oh dear.

How much time does this have?

Eighteen minutes.

Perfectly fine.

We land in time.

Myself, I feel very safe.

One, two, three.

Le rendez-vous est fi servi.

De rien, on nous prend deux taxis.

Deux taxis.

Have you arranged a light supper in the meantime?

Help yourselves to a hangover.

You're very kind.

May I offer you a champagne cocktail?

Not for me.

I've never tasted hard liquor in my life, except beer and communion wine.

It's not hard liquor.

It's a delicious concoction with cherries and a sugar cube.

Okay, two champagne cocktails.

And you're your mother.

This is your son.

I recognize your handwriting.

This is you.

Obviously, the Sacramento Consortium refused to cover the gap, and you're

trying to secretly blackmail me to salvage the agreement.

Actually, I suppose it's extortion.

It's so crude.

You've been fiddling with it.

That's absurd.

It's far-fetched.

What do you get for suspicious ideas?

It's very French.

How could we know you were going to receive an anonymous letter?

Nothing you say will convince me.

I'm absolutely unflinchingly certain you are responsible for this, as you say,

anonymous letter.

If you deny it again, I'm throwing you out.

Is that a threat?

Well, anyway, you're wrong about my handwriting.

You already drafted it.

Why do you just do that?

You just admitted everything after swearing us to never reveal your

deceitfulness, even under pain of torture, for the rest of our lives.

You call that a strategy?

It doesn't fall for it.

They cover 10%, plus Farouk another five.

What's become of you?

Too many airplane crashes, I think.

I'm walking away.

One taxi.

I'll change it back.

We can cede the point.

Too late.

No, no.

I'll change it back.

We can cede the point.

Still too late.

No, no, no, no.

I'll change it back.

We can cede the point.

What was that?

This is a robbery.

On behalf of the jungle unit of the Intercontinental Radical Freedom Militia

Corps, all money jewels and watches into the bag, please.

We're outgunned.

Who are they?

I don't know these philovists.

Must come from out of town.

The proceeds of this seizure will benefit not only the administrative activity of

our organization, but also orphans and widows, the blind, the sick, the wounded,

farmers, teachers, and the construction of hygienic wastewater disposal systems.

I'm still shooting my ceiling.

Just rob my customers and make your getaway.

You're a category.

No.

None of the funds generated by the sale of your property will be squandered.

The pamphlets articulate our policies.

It's too much.

Why are you shooting my ceiling?

This is a robbery on behalf of the jungle unit of... No, I understand that.

I'm asking about my ceiling.

You idiots are destroying a magnificent nightclub.

Grab the loot and get out!

Let's communicate.

He took a bullet for me.

I took a bullet for you.

I'm aware of that.

I witnessed the event.

Where's the wound?

Right here, where the blood is gushing out of me.

It's not too bad, actually.

I think your diplomatic credentials slowed it down.

Excuse us.

For that needless violence.

Did they shoot you?

They shot me.

But your father did something heroic, I suppose.

It should have been him, actually.

Pluck it out.

Me?

Go ahead.

And what's that?

Wait.

The meeting's at midnight.

Are you still walking away?

How can I?

No.

Two taxis.

Don't mention anything...

to Marty about the gap.

Just pretend our job is building trust and cementing.

Bjorn?

Where's the rucksack?

Oh, I shouldn't keep it in the taxi.

Any of you folks allergic to powdered insecticides?

Of course not.

Any of you folks bearing firearms or other weapons on your person?

I carry a dagger.

May I ask the purpose of the hand grenades you folks brought on board?

It's a gift I think he has extras.

Do I need a blood transfusion?

Hiya!

Hiya!

Come in!

Good to see you, man!

Come in!

Hiya!

How are you, man?

Come in!

Hiya!

Hiya!

Come in!

I've been shot, but my diplomatic credential slowed it down.

This is my daughter, Liesl.

Do you need a blood transfusion?

I'm a negative universal donor.

If that's what you're looking for, who shot her?

To go east from out of town.

Geez, man, you shoot her back?

Not yet.

This is Professor Bjorn, my administrative secretary.

Welcome aboard.

Make yourself at home, man.

Have a seat.

You sit there.

You sit there.

You sit there.

You sit there.

I sit here.

Don't ask me to cover the gap, man.

I know about the bash.

Work with it.

Of course not.

This is just a symbolic meeting.

It's a formality.

Have a pretzel.

Sir, can you see?

Help yourself to her name.

You're very kind.

I woke up in the middle of the night to a commotion downstairs.

Shouts and slams and breaking glass.

I shrieked like a cat trapped in a cupboard.

I got up and snuck out through the hatch in the upstairs gallery.

They locked me in at night.

I slid down the spiral banister.

Deadstock didn't see me, the underbelly at the time.

I walked down the long front room gallery.

Bum bun in one hand, mouse in the other.

The grandfather clock chimed 3am.

The door opened and my father stepped out into the light.

He was wearing white pajamas and a white dressing gown.

His face was covered with cuts from a plane crash as usual.

His hair was wild.

Go to bed, he said.

Where's mama?

I said.

Asleep, you said.

But it wasn't true.

She was there.

Standing in the reflection in the mirror in

the doorway behind you at the back of the room.

She had on gloves and a coat.

Her blouse was unbuttoned.

Her breasts were naked.

Your mother won't be living with us anymore, you said.

Go to bed.

I walked in reverse to the stairs, then I ran.

They sent me away in the spring.

Objection, your honor.

That's such a distorted version of the story.

It's told from a child's point of view, which is forgivable, but maddening.

I never saw her again.

I'm not on trial here, I'm on it.

I'm gonna confess something terrible which you will never forgive me.

Take five, man.

The reason I know who killed your mother, which I didn't do, is because I did do

something else which may be custard to happen.

Your mother wasn't a nun like you.

She took lovers.

One... one was your uncle Nobar.

I profoundly resented this insult in spite of my own

infidelities and I tricked them out of my own handwriting.

Into thinking your mother was betraying him behind his

back with my administrative secretary at that time.

The result?

He murdered them both, I think.

Did you love her?

I was very fond of her.

No.

We must bring that man to justice, meaning get him arrested if what you say is true.

I swear my word of solemnness don't... I skip it.

I apologize.

I forgive you.

Just like that?

That was my confession of something terrible I

told a poisonous lie in your mother's dead...

I always expected the worst from you.

I forgive you if we talk to you.

We can no longer honor the precise terms we are weak to validate.

This document outlines our revised proposal.

That's enough blood, man.

How dare you!

You liar!

What the hell do you think you had the gall to do this?

Prince Farouk and his father cover five percent.

The Sacramento brothers cover ten.

Marseille, Bob agreed to fifteen.

You're the richest.

Twenty-five.

Why would I do that?

We made an airtight legally binding contract.

No, I said twelve point five.

Fifteen because I took a bullet for you.

Why?

It's because if you don't, I refuse to put the pin back in.

What a nice hand grenade.

It's a great scheme which, if it works, is going to

benefit all our partners for generations to come.

And we're privileged to thank you for your participation.

Liesl, out.

I'm not leaving the room so you can hand grenade yourself as a business tactic.

You ask me my strategy?

This is my strategy.

Will it work?

Not with my daughter in range of the shrapnel.

It won't.

Liesl, out.

You should go.

You should go.

Why wouldn't I just say yes now and betray you later?

You're putting a hand grenade to my head.

I trust you.

I think I trust you too, in return.

Not to tell the truth or keep your word, obviously.

But I suppose I'm moved by this absurd performance.

I'll pitch in, man.

Twenty percent.

Sharply compromising my chances of profitability

in an already extremely high-risk venture.

Just to watch you conduct the grand finale.

Thank you for the blood.

You're welcome.

Intercepted message from subject in transit suggests

possible strategic merger with House of Sussman and Cordova.

Also, encrypted dispatch from undercover operative reports as follows.

Target's resources continue to dwindle as partners grow dubious and bewildered.

Target repeatedly places significant cash funds

directly into operative's personal possession.

Tried to misplace, however operative does not have heart to steal or destroy.

Too cruel under circumstances.

I'll debate that with him.

Further, Target has appointed Daughter his official successor.

Currently a nun.

Not for long, I hope.

Should I be kneeling?

The only terms I dictate is our marriage on a statutory

basis would have to be a purely romantic union.

I'm obliged to keep my daughter sold here to my estate.

My father and his father, your grandfather, I mean, nearly killed each other.

If you know that, do you?

No, I'm new to my family.

Best friends, whatever it means in their case.

They went into business together.

Formulated a very effective poison gas.

Killed tens of thousands of soldiers, made tens of millions of dollars.

One day in their laboratory, a heated argument erupted into a slugging match.

They attacked each other with lethal measures of an experimental new version of

their weaponized aerosol, which fortunately turned

out to be less effective than the original compound.

Both survived, but that was the end of their partnership.

I asked my father 40 years later, nearly on his deathbed still suffering

minor neural effects from the incident, what was the argument about?

You know what he said?

Who could lick who, I guess?

Or whom?

That maybe is the source of most of our problems on this barren earth.

Who could lick who?

Or whom, I guess?

If something gets in your way, flatten it.

That was my father's advice before he cut me out of his will.

He asked to be mummified and buried in a pyramid.

We bought the land and drew up the plans, but never built it.

We had him cremated instead.

Nothing he can do about it.

Is this paste?

Of course.

It's a proxy for the real one, which I'm unable to pay for at this time.

If you care to advance me a portion of the funds... I'm not paying for anything.

I authorize a 150-year lease on the property and water rights.

Maybe I might consider briefly marrying you as an experience, like a chapter in a

book, depending on the advice of my tax attorney.

But I'm not going to help you cover the gap.

It's against the interest of my utopian outpost.

I'm not asking you.

I'm telling you as your potential future husband.

No.

I'm not asking you.

I'm begging you.

As your favorite second cousin.

No.

Obey me.

Why?

If she does marry me, I'm not sure we can compel her to cover the gap.

Depending on the jurisdiction where the wedding takes place.

Do you believe the official ruling my mother's death was caused by suicide?

No.

Who murdered her then in that case, in your opinion?

I only know what they say.

Is my uncle my father?

The diplomatic punch arrived.

Open it.

List of contents.

One, fresh socks, ten pairs.

Two, a book.

Police of the Americas by Carl Sagan and Freud.

Three, financial reports for review.

Four, bills to be paid.

Five, emergency directive urgent.

Six, fresh handkerchiefs.

Go back to five.

Yes, might be important.

Bring it tonight.

It's sabotage again.

Give this to the pilot.

New flight plan.

Where are we going?

Home.

A parliamentary motion just passed intended to thwart me specifically.

I need to be there with the notary by noon tomorrow.

What happens if you don't?

I become an English subject.

Then they seize our worldwide assets.

Extra.me has sent me to prison.

Ah, got it.

This is for you.

Happy birthday.

How old are you?

Twenty-one.

We can't read your handwriting.

Is this a one or a seven?

It's... God damn it.

It's a G.

He's been fiddling with it.

What?

You're tapping in Morse code.

Am I?

Was I?

I didn't notice.

How strange.

She's been... fiddling with it.

You speak Morse code?

Oh, no, no.

Not fluently.

I learned it as a schoolboy.

You speak Morse code?

I'm the librarian of our back-of-the-convent

collection of classical Latin scrolls and codices.

I do deciphering.

Fascinating.

Goldie!

Oh, dear.

If somebody poisoned his beer, we should have tested it.

Did you let him drink in the cockpit?

Just beer.

Stand back and hang on.

Uh-oh.

Why am I up here being stalked by a fighter jet?

I have a vocation.

I think I recognize that assassin too.

He used to work for me also.

I'm just inheriting myself from him.

What a terrible thing to say to a father.

Especially during their time period.

Good heavens, he's back!

Next time he strikes us, pay him with a hand grenade.

It is an act.

I bear no hostility toward your father or his interests.

Your father, however, on occasion bears decisive hostility

to the United States government and its allies and enemies.

It's my job to observe, report and make...

Well, it's an interesting story, I suppose.

After the war, my own primary interests are very similar

to the persona I present to you as Professor Bjorn.

I completed my studies at Princeton and had to establish an expatriate scientific

journal publishing poetry, drawing and ecological books.

Eventually our government offered to subsidise the magazine

in an effort to promote American cultural interests.

But really they just wanted us all to become intelligence operators.

I hope you don't feel betrayed.

I could go ahead and turn back into my normal self right now, if you like.

It's not that different from how you see me already.

See what I mean?

Basically the same person.

No, you're different.

I'm not actually a bohemian.

I'm a moderate conservative, politically.

Also, I'm not from Oslo.

I'm from Wilmington, Delaware.

Also, I know how to drink, although I do find

I'm less inhibited when I pretend to be drunk.

Also, I wrote that book.

I was going to recommend it to us.

Is that a fake mustache?

No, yes, based on my real one, which I usually have.

I do feel betrayed.

You do?

You lunatic!

I feel deeply terrible about this.

You employed me in good faith to teach you about insects.

This is a wonderful setting for us to continue our lessons.

I've never seen so many bugs in one place in all my life, with the possible

exception of a garbage dump near Rome, which was equally breathtaking.

Why do you ask if I could imagine falling in love with a man like you?

Hypothetically?

Was it part of your mission?

No, it wasn't part of my anything.

I might justify it as trying to infiltrate your family business, but to tell you the

truth, I still mean it as a genuine question, both as Professor Bjorn and as

Agent Carlson of the covert North Americans.

Don't help me!

Don't help me.

Wrap this around a tree trunk.

I may go under for a moment, but I'll save him.

No, you won't.

I'll save myself myself.

Bless us and these thy holy gifts.

What's this about, to receive that merciful bounty we humble ourselves...

Does thou not fear God?

...before thee in thy name.

Amen.

Amen.

Amen.

Are you against slavery and the Bible?

It's damnable to hell.

I believe they receive a small stipend.

The yield of Adam's loins crucified my only begotten son.

I know, I know.

Jesus.

I'm not dead yet.

Why didn't you let me sink?

It's redundant.

Our mission is strictly dedicated to sabotaging your business interests.

We never resort to extra-legal violence.

I'm not gullible.

I'm aware of that.

What's the idea?

To demolish your enterprise and pillage all its assets.

That was horrible.

I'll never forget it.

I'll feel a traumatic effect on myself until the day I die.

Really?

I don't know if I feel terrible or flatter or both.

Like maybe I matter.

What did they do to you?

Our family.

I'm sorry I frighten you.

It won't happen again.

How do you place my polygraph?

We're taught to.

It's not difficult.

You do karate?

Of course.

I'll teach you if you like.

Well, it's too late.

I don't know how many more times I can die.

These filthy books should all be burned.

Except this one.

It's sacrilegious, but it speaks to me.

Keep it.

It's yours.

Open your birthday present.

I love it.

It's a beautiful piece.

What's your real first name, Agent Carson?

I'm happy to just go by Bjorn.

My only pleasant memories of a miserable childhood take place below stairs.

I was allowed to dine with the household staff once a week.

They pretended to love me.

What choice did they have?

To this day I'm a very good cook and dishwasher.

Six fifteen.

The cock crows.

The robin brings worms to its chicks in the nest on my windowsill.

Sister Mary pumps the water pump at seven.

The bell rings for morning prayers.

The shape of the day each day is exactly the same.

We like it that way.

As a little boy I kept fleas in plastic bags in my

bedroom and did my morphology and microscopy at night.

I lived with my mother's sister.

My parents conducted their research abroad.

Aunt Beth was very kind but she never approved of my practices.

The house was regularly fumigated resulting in a great loss of specimens.

Later, out of jealousy and loneliness, I betrayed them.

The kitchen staff.

I told my father the truth.

They steal.

I thought I would become his ally.

Instead he gave me a tremendous beating and didn't speak a word to me for ninety days.

He fired them all just the same.

I'm going back to the Sisters.

No you don't.

How can you?

We're marooned.

Besides you're my sole heir.

On a trial basis.

That's finished.

You're hired.

I don't forgive you after all, I'm ashamed to say.

Plus we've got to get revenge on Uncle Nubar.

Or bring it to justice if you prefer.

I'll leave that to you and your conscience.

I don't have one.

Plus what about the poor slaves and the famine?

I'm going back to the Sisters.

To pray and study and work diligently to overcome my

weaknesses of character which are probably genetic.

In other words it's all my fault again.

You can burn the house down after all if we survive.

There you are.

Hello again here in the middle of the jungle.

How extraordinary to stumble across your crash site I gather.

Hello, hello, hello.

I'm not a businessman.

On the contrary.

I'm a communist revolutionary heavily armed and living in a secret jungle

encampment with a band of freedom fighters.

However even I can see your plan on its surface to fight a basic world of economics.

That's why it's never been done before.

My plan defies everything.

What's your connection to the company?

Me?

I pretend to be his administrative secretary but really I'm the tutor.

But actually in fact I'm a spy for the United States government.

Wow.

Religion is a sign of the oppressed creature.

It's a protest against suffering.

I agree.

You're not an atheist.

Of course I am.

Some of my colleagues however only claim to be.

I had a private army once.

Big heading.

Fifteen minutes to spare.

Where's my notary?

We need fingerprints and signatures.

You're all official witnesses.

Melissa Peria.

Peace be with you my child.

The fighter jet shot us down in the jungle by the grace of God.

We survived.

You received my letter.

Yes.

I wrote you back.

I'm prepared to take my vows.

Read the letter first.

We received a marriage license and anti-duction contract.

I assume you're aware of the proposal.

I didn't know she says yes.

You're very pious sister Liesl but you're not plain.

The stones on your pipe for instance.

Not to mention the opulence of your rosary.

And this astonishing dagger.

A gift from a prince.

Melissa Peria you've approached me when I most require your trust and guidance.

Worldly adornments do serve certain good people for the good.

We're not all destined to deny ourselves man's earthly pleasures.

Some thrive in tranquil simplicity.

Others find beauty in color, splendor in jubilation.

This is no approach my child.

You're a rich girl always were.

Of course we would continue to cherish your ongoing patronage of the abbey.

He just won't be a nun anymore.

Is God more interested in my money or my soul?

I can't speak for him.

Maybe I can assist in this area.

Both as a father and as an expert mediator.

I gather you kicked her out.

I'm urging Liesl to return to her family and greater society.

Will the superior still want us to fund the construction of the new refectory?

With gratitude.

Of course.

Are you authorized by the way to do a baptizing if somebody wants to be Catholic?

Me?

You're an atheist.

I feel I have a religious awakening now if that's what we call it.

Tell me how this awakening came to pass.

Well, I would say partly it's because of my near-death episodes.

I get a kind of visions.

Never mind the details.

Then partly there's a fiduciary benefit.

Then mostly, and I would weight this factor up to maybe

75%, is simply the influence of my daughter's influence.

Which has a profound effect on me.

And I think at my age in the end, finally, it's better I just go on our side.

The point is to be delivered from sin and purified.

It doesn't work if you're lying.

I'm not lying.

I'm capable of and willing to genuinely believe

in the opposite of my personal convictions.

I can do that in certain situations.

You remember the combination?

Another shoe box?

This one's older.

What's inside?

I don't know.

Supposedly a relic quarter of our family history.

Sealed half a score ago by my father's notary.

I willed it to you.

But since we're here, take it.

I'll open it later.

My great grandfather built the hotel.

Liesel would have been the fifth generation proprietor

except my father sold it to an American conglomerate.

Who ruined it, of course.

The venue is situated on a precarious border among three fiefdoms, two of which

remain under martial law after a military coup.

In exchange for me allowing you to steal the painting rolled up in that shipping

tube, you and your terrorists provide security

services to our entire party throughout the event.

Oh, they stole the painting.

You'll officiate.

It's good timing in a business sense.

Function hall number five has been duly sanctioned

in accordance with the laws of this territory.

Even an immediate divorce might bear profit.

Thank you.

Bye.

You reach him?

Yes.

His Holiness refuses to cover the gap.

Any of it.

I know Felix.

He's stubborn.

We'll need to sweeten the pot.

Tell him I offered nine more souls.

Are you still an enemy spy?

At the moment, no.

I thought I might be more useful as a double agent.

I couldn't pay you any extra.

Well, naturally, it would be included in my tutorial fees.

My operational handler, codename Excalibur.

Agent Carlson?

Excalibur.

I know about the bashable rivets, and the bolt spikes and pulverized gravel, too.

This office can either confirm or deny any such knowledge,

nor would it elect to acknowledge said knowledge.

It's sabotage!

In fact, I swear my word is solemnest honor.

I'll never let you win.

Ah, I've arranged for you to accuse me of a person, by the way.

Your Uncle Nubar.

Of course.

It's crucial we confront this unspeakable evil.

Also, it's even more crucial we secure his financial investment position.

As you know, I'd never admit the possibility of it even avoid the word failure.

Maybe that's a weakness.

On the other hand, we're only missing one slice

of the pie that was baked too big for the...

Just a dud.

Just a dud.

Myself, I feel very safe.

So, Nubar has arrived?

Off the record, the gap might be bottomless, closer to an abyss.

In fact, there is even more to it now.

A further dimension than I previously anticipated.

The emotional gap.

If it turn...

You used to work for me.

I'm sorry.

Me?

No.

I was in disguise.

Oh, Dr. Lenz, man.

I recognize this assassin.

Who hired you to kill me?

I don't know.

Suicide panel.

I don't know.

If it turns out you're not my daughter, can I adopt you?

With your permission?

Yes.

In that case, whatever happens, we'll be fine.

Restate the purpose of this visit.

Exactly as we agreed, my dear Nubar.

The validation of your proprietary shares after

55% advance against the interim shortfall.

This is just a symbolic meeting.

It's a formality.

Liesl has additional objectives, of course, as you're aware.

My father promised you arranged for me to accuse you in person.

That's what I'm here to do.

Why would I, my dear?

She wasn't my wife.

Help yourselves to a hand grenade.

I've been very kind to have my own.

What's your blood type, Liesl?

I don't know.

They never tested it, to my knowledge.

You have my eyes.

Do people not tell you that?

Nobody ever told her she has anybody's anything.

I'll wait outside.

She's not your daughter.

I don't care.

One thing you'll never know, because you can't.

The truth.

Although, in my opinion, it was probably your administrative secretary at that time.

He's the father.

Actually, I think I know it for a fact.

I'm astonished you didn't see it already.

And if I did kill him...

I'd never admit it.

I invented that lie.

To trick you.

Of course you do, but it was true.

The blood type's proved it.

Probably.

You've got my blood.

And hers.

I've got everybody's blood.

No, you don't.

Yes, I do.

No, you don't.

Of course I do.

No, you don't.

They say you murdered all your wives.

Wait.

I'm putting this on just so I don't lie.

I didn't murder that wife, your mother...

or any other.

I wouldn't even go so far as to say I'm incapable of it.

Whatever they say about me, behind my back, whoever they are.

I wasn't taught to either.

To be the polygraph.

Where did he come from?

I can't remember.

I'll open the shoebox.

My father, on his birthday.

My uncle, all A's.

My mother, on her wedding day.

A carton of six poison gas ampoules.

A rare stamp, a gold coin, a skeleton cube.

Secret letters.

My grandfather.

Some of him, just ashes.

I'll take one.

It's a staggering, ambitious project.

But situated entirely in a perpetual war zone.

For the next 150 years, I'd rather sell guns, bombs, and ammunition.

It's our family business.

My note is final.

Wow, you're pulling out your entire investment and breaking your promise to me.

Stabbing everybody along one simultaneously in the back.

Why'd you come here, in that case?

I couldn't resist.

I proceed as a silent partner, taking a complete loss of all my assets.

With no opportunity for any future upside, I'm

still on the hook for unlimited debts and deficits.

Fine, I'll do it.

Fine, I'll do it.

The slaves will be paid.

The slaves will be paid.

The famine will be finished.

The famine will be finished.

We'll beat those bureaucrats.

We'll beat those bureaucrats.

And my most important project of my lifetime comes to pass.

Without us.

I don't want a fortune.

Now at this time, the first symbolic demonstration of our abundant desert harvest.

Born from deep within the Earth's rich elemental...

Send me to our house for another word.

Oh, shit.

I'll be right back.

Yes, my dear Nobarr.

How can I assist you?

I've changed my mind.

I'll do it myself.

This is tremendous.

I know it.

I'm not the business deal.

My note is final.

I mean, your assassination.

Nobarr!

So it is you, the enemy trying to murder me all along.

The son of my father, my own half brother.

Yeah.

I've got everybody's blood.

No, you don't.

Yes, I do.

No, you don't.

Yes, I do.

I won't die.

I.

never...

You're worse than me.

You're not human.

You're biblical.

Can't you stop?

Can't you leave me alone?

Why do you need to always keep assassinating me all the time?

You know the answer.

I don't need to say it.

Who could let go, I guess.

Let's communicate.

When I pray, no one answers.

I only pretend he does.

Then I do whatever I think God probably would have suggested.

Usually it's obvious.

Amen.

Peace be with you, Reverend Mother.

Our new quarters, though modest, cramped, meagre and

shabby, are, nevertheless, charming and versatile.

The boys, to my delight, finally begin to thrive and flourish.

I do serve a purpose here.

Agent Carlson resigned as a double agent and accepted

a staff position at our local grammar school.

I have a lot of friends who are predators, much like our friend the plebeius beetle,

who has a similar kind of casing, and he doesn't mind predators at all.

My stepmother, Annalta, briefed union with my father.

And one, and two, and three, and four.

My father's entrepreneurial energies remain robustly

invigorated by the austerity of our poverty.

Tell him he's welcome, but don't let him leave.

I do admire his resilience and ambition, though I don't believe these come from God.

The Phoenician scheme continues to deepen and widen.

It may be a sizeable step backwards for civilization.

But it will produce some good works, I'm sure of it.

Could you imagine marrying a man like me?

I mean it as a genuine question.

Is that paste?

No, yes, I think so.

I don't know.

It's the same one.

Cousin Hilda sent it back.

I asked your father for his consent, and he loaned it to me to give to you.

P.S.

To this day, he's a very good cook.

And dishwasher.

Two whiskeys.

You say yes?

On a trial basis.

Parts.