All language subtitles for the_avengers_s06e05_split

Hello, Frank.

Came the dawn. Hello, Harry.

Anything happening?

Nobody's stolen the secret papers.

Nobody's infiltrated anywhere. Nobody
shot the Prime Minister.

Nobody pushed the red button. The world
is still intact.

Nothing, it seems, has happened.

Another uneventful night.

Can I buy you a coffee?

No, thanks. I've got to finish these
reports.

You know, Harry, for you, dedication has
become a vice.

Hello?

May I speak to Boris, please?

Who?

Boris. Is he there?

I'm sorry, you must have the wrong
number.

I can't betray you to change your mind,
Harry.

After all, all work and no play.

Mercer here.

This is an emergency.

Someone's murdered Frank Compton.

I'm sorry about your holiday, Lord
Barnes.

So am I.

We wouldn't have asked you back unless
it had been very urgent.

I wouldn't have come back if it hadn't
been urgent.

Sorry, but this whole business has
knocked me sideways.

An agent murdered is bad enough.

But when it happens inside the Ministry
of Top Secret Information, the most

security -conscious area in the country,
well...

Frankly, I don't believe it.

I still don't believe it.

The profound silences are my
prerogative, Major Rook.

What progress are we making?

None.

Who found the body?

Harry Mercer.

Is he a good man?

None better.

Steed's questioning him now.

He must have been lying there the whole
time. That's what gets me.

I was sitting there writing my report
and all the time Frank was... When we

out, if we find out, we'll find out.

Ah, deed. I'm glad you're here. Good
morning, Lord Barnes.

It's a bad morning. It's a disastrous
morning.

Your murder?

Yes, sir. And you found him, eh? Yes,
sir. And the murder weapon? You made an

immediate check.

I want it found. I want the whole place
combed. We already have it.

Compton's own gun, sir. His own gun.

Any fingerprints?

Only his own.

All right.

You'd better tell me all the facts from
the beginning.

Mercer was writing his report in here.

Alone? Yes, sir. He finished at 5 .30
exactly.

He started to leave and he moved to
about here and then he saw Frank Compton

lying on the floor there under the
table.

Yes, and then I gave the alarm.

Of course, we checked everything
immediately.

All the staff, personnel, all the exits.
And we double -checked on all the

visitors to the area here yesterday.

The result was a negative.

Hello?

Who?

Boris. The cellar, the roofs, the
grounds.

I'm afraid you've got the wrong number.
Nothing remained unchecked. Negative.

Well, I won't accept negative. I won't
accept anything less than positive.

Positive action, positive plans,
results.

But we're covering all the visitors here
within the last month.

The last month?

The last year, Major.

I want every member of the staff re
-screened and interrogated. I want a

complete rundown on Frank Compton. His
movements retraced up until the moment

that he died.

The case that he worked on, the people
he met.

Better try operations security.

There's in the micro.

What have you done to your hand?

A legacy from Berlin, October 63.

Really?

He must have been mistaken.

Who?

Harry Mercer, when he said he was in
Berlin in 63.

He couldn't have been.

I was there at that time. I was involved
in quite a little fracas, too, and I

know that Harry was nowhere in the area.

Well, as you said, he must have been
mistaken.

Then let's be lying.

No, he must have got the date mixed up,
that's all.

That's not all he got mixed up.

Ambidextrous.

Where did you get that?

Mercers desk.

Funny, eh?

Clearly the handwriting of a strong,
weak, happy, sad, anxious, carefree man.

Is that a fact?

No, I made it up.

Well, let's find someone who can give us
the facts.

Remarkable. Quite remarkable.

Remarkably remarkable.

Would you care to remark on the
remarkability?

Yes, I would.

Well?

Well, this first section here.

You want the facts?

The facts. Factually.

It's remarkable.

Yes, you said that. Twice.

This first section of writing, a neat,
precise hand, the work of a reliable

a man to be trusted, an industrious man,
gentle by nature, yet strong in

character, dedicated, a man of great
loyalty and moral strength.

But this next section here, the
penmanship is the same.

It's definitely written by the same
hand.

I can't see how it can be. Why not?

The personality of the writer has
completely changed.

It's fantastic.

Remarkable.

How has it changed?

Well, this writing indicates a mind of
great cunning.

A brutal, extrovert man.

A man who will stop at nothing to
achieve his ends.

A man to whom cruelty means pleasure. To
whom loyalty means nothing.

A mean man.

Devious, scheming, dangerous.

Thoroughly nasty piece of work, in fact.

Would this kind of man be capable of
murder?

Very, very capable.

Odd.

Odd and quite a coincidence.

A brutal extrovert man who'd stop at
nothing. Mean, scheming, dangerous.

That's a first -class description of
Boris Kartofsky, one of their top

So where's the coincidence?

Kartofsky was the fellow who was
involved with me in that fracker in

October 63.

Panic still on?

Did you find anything?

No. I checked the files.

Nothing.

Hello?

Yes, Steve.

I want you to root out all the
information you can on a member of the

opposition.

Kartofsky. Boris Kartofsky.

Hmm. That should be simple enough. Bound
to have some information on him.

Yes, it's not information I want. It's a
specimen of his handwriting.

Huh?

I'm not sure if we can... Well, he must
have passed messages or broken a code or

something like that. You dig out all you
can.

Well, I'll do my best. Can't promise,
though.

Yeah, right. Bye.

Well, you should call it a day, Harry.
Get some rest.

All right.

Put me through.

Put me through to the... The Nullington
Private Hospital.

Nullington Hospital?

Tell the doctor.

Tell the doctor!

What? Who is this?

Harry.

Harry... Harry... Harry Tchaikovsky!

Dr. Constantine, I have Mercer on the
line. What?

Tell the doctor.

It's... It's Harry.

Boris. It's Boris.

No. Tell the doctor. Help me. Tell the
doctor. It's Boris... Mercer.

Katowski.

Help.

Help me. Help me.

Petra?

Calm him down. Tell him to sit tight.

Tell him we'll help him.

He's breaking up. I told you. I
explained there might be an element of

risk. But to Mercer, right now, at this
moment, we're so close,

Doctor.

So close to wrecking the whole Ministry
of TSI, smashing it, disintegrating,

destroying it from within.

Mercer is a threat to our objective.

We must be rid of him.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening, sir.

Good evening, sir.

No!

Here's Mercer's file.

And the other thing you wanted.

I spent them in Okartovsky's writing.

It must have happened just before I
found him.

I must have been within yards of the
killer.

Within seconds of the murder.

I know how he must have felt when he
found Compton.

Baffled and so... so helpless.

So do we all.

In a case like this, there's usually
some lead, something you can follow up,

but... He was admitted to hospital.

Mercer. A few weeks ago, he had a minor
accident and was admitted for a few

hours. It was the only unusual incident
in an otherwise routine existence.

Not that unusual.

Could happen to anyone.

Happened to me some time ago.

All the same, I think I'll take a look
at this hospital.

Good morning, sir.

Good morning.

Mercer.

Well, Mr. Mercer... Oh, no, no, you
misunderstand me. I'm inquiring about a

Mercer. We have no one of that name in
the hospital. A casualty, a minor road

accident about three weeks ago. Harry
Mercer. Well, Mr... Steve.

John Steve.

Just how can we help you concerning
Harry Mercer? Well, I should like to

to the doctor who handled his case.

Get down there. It will mean going
through the records, and if the doctor's

on duty, well, it'll mean a long wait
for you.

Oh, not to worry.

I'll make myself comfortable here.

Ah, Dr.

Constantine, this gentleman would like
to know about a casualty patient named

Mercer. Mercer?

Harry Mercer.

Are you a relative?

No, but I'm a close friend.

I see.

Well, we don't usually give information.

But I do remember this.

A road accident, wasn't it?

Nothing serious. A mild concussion.

You handled the case?

I did.

And?

And what?

Forgive me, what exactly do you wish to
know?

How long was he here? One hour, possibly
two.

Certainly no longer.

Did he have any visitors?

No.

And there was nothing unusual about the
case? I told you.

A mild concussion of the simplest
nature.

I only wish all our road casualties were
so minor.

Well, thanks anyway.

Good day.

Good day.

I don't like it when Steve gets this
close.

Uncomfortable, it goes.

We'll have to get rid of, mister.

Oh, Steed, yes.

You said that you were involved in an
accident recently.

Yes, just a minor bump, you know.

But you were admitted to hospital.

For a short time, yes.

Do you mind if I come and talk to you
about it?

If you think it's important.

Yes, I'll be expecting you.

You rang, my lord?

Oh, yes, Miller. You can take a few
hours off. I don't want to be disturbed

a bit.

You're going to enjoy yourself.

Yes. Thank you, my lord.

Oh, and Miller, don't bother to lock up.

As you wish, my lord.

Steed, what has happened?

Dear fellow, are you all right?

Miss King, drawing upon my not
inconsiderable experience as a

Please, just a simple explanation.

Words of one syllable.

Identical.

Identical. This and this, both the work
of the same personality.

But that's impossible.

My dear lady, I am the foremost
authority.

The same personality?

Brutal, extrovert and dangerous?

Very, very dangerous.

Feeling any better?

Much better, thank you.

Must have shaken you up.

It's an occupational hazard, you get
used to it.

He's pretty cool, whoever he is, to
attack you here under my roof.

The front door was open.

Oh, that would be Miller, my butler.

I'll talk to him, don't you worry.

Oh, which reminds me.

You wanted to talk to me about
something.

Yes, that accident you had.

Yes? Which hospital were you taken to?

Which hospital? Which hospital?

Do you know, Steve, I simply don't
remember.

It was some time ago.

It's completely slipped my mind. Well,
if it does occur to you... I'll let you

know right away.

I was... I was feeling a bit extrovert.

You'll let me know when you remember.

What? The name of the hospital.

Yes. Yet, Allah, let you not.

Object myself.

I am alarmed to check a

change in my behavior.

Look at this.

I checked with the handwriting experts,
and both specimens of the handwriting

are exactly... Hello?

Steed, get back here straight away.

Hurry.

Oh, what the... Lord Byron.

See you later.

Oh, Lady Ruth.

Is he in?

No. No.

I wanted to talk to him about some
handwriting.

So did I.

What did you have in... I'm sorry.

Look.

Both the handwriting of Boris Kartofsky.
A letter written by Lord Barnes.

But that's his deed gone free.

Huh? Lord Barnes.

Failure number two.

He's breaking up, Doctor.

It's obvious he's breaking up like
Martha.

Well, we did anticipate a failure risk.

You said that all right. I accept that.

The question is, what do we do now?

Doesn't make sense, Lord Barnes, killing
one of his own agents.

And what about the first killing? Lord
Barnes wasn't even in the country.

Doesn't make sense.

It makes some kind of sense.

One thing's certain.

Barnes is a traitor, a dangerous
traitor.

There he is.

See, I must... I must tell you...

Lord

Barnes was about to... Not Lord Barnes.

Boris Kartofsky.

A specimen of Kartofsky's writing.
Letter from Lord Barnes.

Don't know how they did it. Some new
technique, plastic surgery. Anyway, that

was Boris Kartofsky.

Impossible.

I shot Boris Kartofsky.

Berlin, 1963.

I shot him through the heart.

He wants you to stand where he can see
you.

He likes to look at you. He was always
one for a pretty woman.

His appetite was remarkable.

Voracious.

He could be cruel.

So cruel.

He frightens me.

There's no reason why he should.

He's not a monster.

On the contrary, he's a monument.

A medical triumph.

Isn't that so, Boris?

When he was brought to me, he was
without hope.

Not dead, but with a bullet, Steed's
bullet, so deep in his heart that an

operation, even a transplant, was out of
the question.

I kept him alive.

Didn't I, Boris?

With my skills.

I kept you alive.

You call that alive?

And his brain still lived.

The mind and personality of Boris
Kartofsky still unimpaired.

Lucid. Brilliant.

And that's only part of my achievement.

To take that mind, the mind of the best
agent we ever had, and with

this...

To transfuse it.

To infuse his will, his thoughts, his
ego into another man's brain.

Into that part of the mind that remains
dormant in all of us.

Unexplored.

Waiting.

Waiting to receive the personality of
Kartofsky.

To restore him to active duty.

To give him a healthy body again. A
strong hand with which to hold a gun.

The ultimate infiltration.

A traitor hidden within an unsuspecting
mind.

Barnes is dead.

We'll need a replacement, you understand
that?

Very well.

The same method as the others.

A faked road accident.

Tell Morell to stand by.

We're still at the experimental stage.

Do you agree that?

Yes.

And I'd like to go a step further.

Explore a new avenue. The personality of
Kartofsky, of a man, within the brain

of a woman.

Steve, I think I'll get a second opinion
on this handwriting.

Right.

Too late.

Look, there's no point in both of us
searching. I'd be better off tackling

things at the ministry end.

I'll check with you later. Right.

Ah, Miller.

Sir. About Lord Barnes. Oh, it's a
tragedy, sir. A terrible tragedy.

Do you feel that you can talk about it?

Yes, sir. But I really don't think I can
add to what I have already told you,

sir. He gave you the afternoon off, and
when you returned later, he was getting

into his car.

He was in a panic, sir.

That's how it looked to me. Very
distraught.

I thought there might have been an
accident, sir.

What made you think that?

Well, I'm sure I heard him mention a
hospital, sir. Something about having to

get to the hospital.

Hospital.

You will feel no pain, Miss King.

No pain at all.

Unless you try to fight it.

Then, well, your suffering will be
considerable.

And so unnecessary.

The technique is irresistible.

Ultimately, we must win.

I advise you to relax, Miss King, and
you will experience only a feeling of

-being, a drifting into sleep.

Remember, Miss King, relax.

Let his mind flood into yours.

I think we might allow ourselves the
luxury of splitting a bottle together,

don't you?

A small celebration.

After all, this is likely to take some
time.

An excellent idea.

Boris, don't forget you're dealing with
a lady.

Think some nice thoughts.

Thank you.

The machine.

That one.

No, on top.

I can't promise you'll play the violin
again.

Thank you, Doctor.

At least I'm still me.

Boris Kartofsky? Not exactly up and
around, but definitely alive.

And very active, mentally speaking.

They're the real villain of the piece.

A home -perm device.

No, it's a sort of mind transfuser.
Makes his mind go into someone else's.

Get back to the ministry.

See Major Rook. Tell him what happened
here.

I'll be all right.

Hurry, hurry.

I'd like to have stayed and had a chat,
Kotovsky.

Have to be later.

Call the doctor.

The machine!

Hello! It's my life! Hello!

Hello, please!

Hello, please!

It's the machine!

Nullington Private Hospital.

That's right. Steve's waiting for us
there now.

Come on. Not just yet.

Close the door.

Major Rook. No.

Not Rook.

Not Rook.

Boris.

The other barn.

Mercer, they were failures.

Abject failures.

They broke up. Were you breaking up? No.

Perfect. I am the perfect prototype.

I, Boris Kartofsky, I don't have to be
triggered in any way.

I think for myself.

I am the perfect prototype.

Help me.

I will have to kill you, Miss King.

Oh, for pity's sake, help me. Major
Rook. I am going to kill you, Miss King.

Kill. No.

Kill. Kill.

You won't beat me.

Not me.

Boris Kartofsky. Rook.

Rook.

Major Peter Rook.

Pick it up.

Steed, pick up the gun and kill me.

Steed, pick it up and kill me.

Please pick up the gun and kill me.

Steed, if you don't kill me, I'll kill
you.

It's all right.

Help yourself to a drink. What do you
fancy?

What have you got?

Everything.

Everything?

Well, um, in that case, I should like a
tall crystal glass of crushed ice,

permeated with grenadine, laced with a
mixture of Cantonese sake and

creme de violette, topped with a measure
of Calvados, a tablespoon of Devonshire

cream, and a fresh, unripe strawberry.

Bottom drawer down.

I haven't got any of those, but
champagne sounds far more digestible.

I'm trying to keep you waiting, and I'm
changing.

Changing?

Oh, my food.

Oh, a legacy from the fight in the
hospital.

Sorry.

The moment I wondered who had gotten
into you.