All language subtitles for the_new_avengers_s01e04_target

Have a nice holiday and mind how you go.

You can get dressed now, Mr. Talmadge.

Okay, am I, Doc?

Better than okay.

You're in disgustingly good health.

Go for a few more years, then.

You'll probably live until you're 90.

Talmadge?

Talmadge is no more.

And in another hour or so, Dick Palmer
will join him.

We're doing well, Tucker.

You too.

And who's next on our list?

George Myers, special security agent,
exceptional knowledge of foreign

Well, he'll be sorely missed, won't he?

Along with Talmadge and Palmer.

Yes, we're doing exceptions.

Exceptionally well.

Everything going according to plan.

And in the not -too -distant future, we
shall be able to...

Dick Palmer!

Dick Palmer?

Didn't you recognize him?

He's already a dead man.

Fiverr, even money? You're on.

Dead heat?

Photo finish. Hello.

Steed.

Palmer.

Dick Palmer.

Palmer? What's happened, you son? I'm
dead.

What?

Where are you?

It's no good.

Palmer!

Listen, you can't save George Myers.

Well, you see, he's next.

They're going to kill him next.

Palmer, what is this?

He's dead.

That's what he said.

I'm already dead.

The line's still open, but there's
nobody answering.

I'm already dead.

But we can save George. George Myers.

We've got to find him and warn him.
Fine.

Warn him of what?

I don't know.

But wherever he is, he's in deadly
danger.

Do you know why I beg this, little
buddy?

So you could get me on my own, ask me
out to dinner, worm your way into my

affections, date me regularly, ask me to
marry you, have five scruffy children,

and live happily ever after.

Also because your car isn't dark and we
both happen to be going to the same

place.

No, you were right the first time.

It shows, eh?

Neon lights, ten foot tall.

Birdie, the way I feel about you... It's
the way I object to.

You're a very wonderful human being,
Paddy. But a terrible kangaroo.

You do like me a little, then.

I like you a lot.

But then I like Beethoven a lot.

The difference is he's dead and I'm very
much alive.

But you're playing in the wrong key.

You understand I'm only here as an
observer.

unofficial observer.

Nevertheless, Colonel Elenco... Please,
I prefer to be known by my American

cover name, Paul Malloy. Mr. Malloy,
your presence here is a great honor.

Any honors, Mr. Drake, should be aimed
in your direction.

You have invented the perfect killing
machine.

Subtle, faultless, undetectable. So long
as we use it sparingly. Exactly.

To overuse such a perfect method might
attract attention.

Nevertheless, your score is mounting.
Congratulations.

Thank you. We're thinking of opening a
branch in America.

America?

That's why I'm here, to observe.

Unofficially.

We understand each other.

America would be very fruitful.

Secret Service, CIA, FBI.

All perfect targets for your perfect
machine.

Thank you. I don't drink. You must drink
this.

It's a precautionary measure.

Oh, of course.

Well, then, if I must drink, the toast
should be a brave one.

To your... To our next victim.

And who is to be the next unlucky
victim?

George Myers.

But if our information is correct,

you may get two for the price of one.

George Myers.

And this beautiful young lady.

And continue.

When you're ready, in your own time,

begin.

Quiet!

You've just killed John Steed, a friend
and ally.

Oh, he won't like that!

Well done, Mr. Myers.

Well done, George.

Very well done.

Ninety -seven percent.

Ninety -seven?

It's three percent. It kills you. One,
two, three. Just the same. It's a very

commendable score.

Has anyone ever got a hundred percent?

John C.

Three times in a row.

I've always wondered if you were
speaking.

Nobody else?

No. So far?

Best of your chances, then.

Think you can break my score?

Ninety -seven.

I aim to try.

When you're ready, Mr Bradshaw.

Right.

Care to bet on it?

What on?

A hundred pounds against a dinner date
tonight?

Oh, I like that. Makes me feel
expensive.

You are expensive, Paddy.

Like a million dollars.

Care to convert that into the currency
of the realm?

Pound sterling.

Please proceed.

Ready? Ready.

Begin.

Purdy, sorry, there's a call for you,
Steed.

He wants you right away.

Pity.

Just as I was beginning to enjoy myself.

Thank goodness.

Are we pleased to see you? It's
imperative.

Urgent. Desperate. What on earth?
Where's George? George Myers.

George? We were supposed to be with him
today.

What is the matter of fact? It's
potential we find him, Purdy.

Find him right away.

Well, if you'd let me get a word in
edgeways, I'll tell you where he is.

Outside in my car.

Someone's trying to kill me.

But who?

Don't know.

Where? Don't know.

Well, tell me. Don't know that either.

Oh, come on, fellas. I'm due for a
routine medical, then two weeks' leave

starting now.

This is serious, George.

Oh, certainly, with such exact
information backing it up.

Becky Palmer gave us the information.

Dick, what else did he say? That he's
dead.

He told you he was dead?

That's the gist of it.

Look,

I don't know what's going on.

Do you know that Dick Palmer's dead?

Not yet.

Dick Palmer?

I'm going on leave. No, no, you're not.

Gambit.

Not until we're sure.

Look, Steed.

Yes?

What?

They found Palmer.

Yes.

How?

I see.

He's dead.

Well, George, how do you feel about
that?

George!

Natural causes?

Work a man to the limit.

Work a man too hard and something has to
give.

In this case, the man.

And you are working them too hard these
days.

What, four in, well, as many weeks?

Four. Well, there's Talmadge.

He died during his medical.

Hmm, ironic.

And there's this chap who dropped dead
first day of his leave. Fishing, I think

he was. Potterton. Oh, that's right,
Potterton.

And before him, that chappy Mackay.

Obviously you are working them too hard.

What, four in just under four weeks?
Five. What?

Of course we all work hard, Dr.
Kendrick, but not that hard. Now, don't

precondition yourself to natural causes.
Look at anything, anything at all

suspicious.

George Myers.

Oh, it's superb, Drake. Quite, quite
superb.

The better the agent, the longer it
takes to die.

And the less likelihood of them ever
tracing back to the cause of death.

Yeah?

Of course. I don't want to be hoist with
my own pet dog.

A dose of our own medicine.

Then death is not always instantaneous.

Very rarely.

As you said, the better the agent, the
longer it takes.

The superb agent may receive only two or
three doses. The victim then falls into

coma and death follows, perhaps minutes,
perhaps hours later.

The better the agent.

And by all accounts, this one is very
good indeed.

Yes, it's certainly unusual.

That's why I called you, Steve.

You asked me to check for anything out
of the ordinary. Anything suspicious.

And?

George Mars died of natural causes.
There's no doubt about that.

But, see here.

Just below the shoulder.

Three tiny marks.

Barely pinpricks.

What about Palmer and Talmadge?

Yes, I re -examined them.

Both have similar marks.

Three on Palmer's chest.

Four on Talmadge's left arm.

What do you think made them?

I've no idea.

And it in no way changes my diagnosis of
death, natural causes.

It is odd.

I agree.

And there's another oddity.

Check and recheck. Isn't that what you
asked of me?

I went over the clothing of the dead men
again.

Talmadge and Myers, nothing.

But Dick Palmer...

An inkblot? A squash beetle, found on
Palmer's Shoe.

Well, aren't you going to ask me what's
the point?

All right, what is the point?

Ah, the point is that I wouldn't expect
to find that species of beetle outside

the South American jungle.

No interruption at this time.

No interruption.

Feeling confident, eh?

I think my eye...

It's in today?

Yes, you can shoot, all right. Make an
all -shoot.

What about your reflexes?

I think they're OK.

All right, Jones.

I think she's made her point.

Right, Purdy.

In your own time, begin.

It's intolerable.

No sooner do I get these files organised
than your people come along and want

something out.

Files are for keeping, for putting away,
not for taking out all the time.

If you want to keep looking at files,
then you should get a set of your own.

mine can remain neat and catalogued and
undisturbed. I doubt I'll be able to

find anything after you've gone. I'm
sorry, Miss.

Taking them?

Taking them?

Five less for you to file.

It's rape.

Rape.

One gun for you, and that makes two of
us.

Steed and me.

We've both got 100%. Sorry, 99%. What?
I'm sure that... The machine

doesn't make mistakes.

99%. Yes, it was the back shooter that
got you.

The same that got you.

The back shooter?

You took the machine gunner there, run
along the gantry.

Yes.

Back shooter appeared on the roof behind
you.

Oh, that's unfair.

That's despicable. That's downright
dirty.

The people we come up against often are.

Mr. Bradshaw. Mr. Gamble.

I'd like to think there was a rule book.

Cricket and all that.

But there isn't a book. Just one rule.

Stay alive.

I got 99 cents.

Yes, but it's the one percent that
killed you.

What are you doing here?

Looking for you.

And now you've found me, what are you
doing here? A little chat.

If you'll excuse me.

I get lonely, you see.

You'll be a recluse if you don't get to
the point.

Bradshaw. Steve.

Mr. Steve, yes. Yes,

they're both here. Do you want me to...
No, just give them a message from me.

Right.

Tell them I'm going out the Amazon.

You're doing what, sir?

I'm going to see a Professor Lopez.

Got that?

Lopez.

Yes, I've got that, sir.

George Myers and co.

Five top men, dead for natural causes.

Five supreme examples of manhood struck
down in their frown.

Is there a pattern?

Not that I can see.

Why didn't you say so?

You want the benefit of my incisive
mind.

No.

Just a second opinion.

You must not be premature, Plocher.

Thank you.

They're on to Lopez.

How? Don't ask me how. They are.

Steed's on his way over there now.

You know, if he talks, they'll... It's
all right. We'll handle it.

Not going to choke him.

Right. Right, Sean.

What about Ferdy?

She's dead.

You're right. There doesn't seem to be
any link.

Poston, Mackay, Dick Palmer, they were
all on home leave.

They weren't working actively on
anything at all.

Leave.

That's it. Leave.

George was going on leave. So was
Talmadge.

That's the link. Yes.

But to what?

Oh, I don't know, Gambit. You'll have to
sort that one out for yourself.

As from now, I'm going on a week's leave
of absence.

Oh, come on. Who'd want to kill me?

Me.

Unless you promise to get in your car,
go straight home, lock the door and

open it until you hear from me.

Mike. Now promise, will you?

All right.

But it does make me seem awfully stupid.

Better to be stupid than dead.

Gambit, you're behaving like an old
mother hen.

But I do... You do what, me?

Leave.

Before you go on leave, you have a
check.

Practical and medical.

Section 37, paragraph 24.

Bradshaw! Bradshaw!

Bradshaw, don't move.

I've got you covered.

You're in a trap.

You backroom boys are always working out
new ways to keep us on our toes.

Now it's your turn.

No.

You're dead, Bradshaw.

No!

Now you see how it feels.

Now come back in here, Brady, old boy.

I've got something more serious to talk
to you about.

Rachel.

Rachel!

Bradshaw, what's wrong?

Braddy, it was only a joke.

It's the Heath's hat.

His hat.

Heath's hat.

Bradshaw!

I'm dying.

Dead.

I'm dying in seconds.

One hit.

I've been hit, doesn't...

comfortable over here, Mr. Steve.

I'm sorry about the heat, the humidity.

Have to keep the place at tropical
temperature, else every damn plant will

on me.

Suggest you take off your high jacket.

If the plant can take it, I can.

I just think cool.

And try this.

It's a distillation of my own brew.

Whiskey, weed, bark, and a little touch
of snakehead.

You like it?

A little strong on the snake head.

Well, it opens the pores, cools the
body.

You think I'm eccentric?

I think you're psychic.

Yes, it's a weird way to live, I agree
with you.

But scientifically necessary.

The flora and fauna of the South
American Amazon kept alive here in

Professor Lopez, I believe you recently
met a friend of mine.

Who? Dick Palmer.

Oh, yes.

Charming fellow.

He had two glasses of my special brew.

Thank you.

That's the way I judge a man.

Intestinal fortitude.

So why did Dick Palmer come to see you?

For curare.

Curare. Stuff the natives tip their
poison darts with. Or that and a hundred

derivatives.

Used in minor doses in modern medicine.

Fantastic. Tactic stuff. It paralyzes
the heart muscles.

So if a man died of it, it could be put
down to natural causes.

A refined version might.

Terribly difficult to detect.

Terrible stuff altogether. I should
know.

Working with it, I scratched myself. Had
to take immediate action.

Could I?

Getting to you, eh?

So the merest scratch could be fatal.

Would be. I tell you, Mr. Steed, I don't
work with it anymore. Not unless I have

a bottle of antidote at my elbow.

It's deadly.

And in the right hand.

Quite undetectable.

And in concentrated form, almost
instantaneous.

As I told your friend, Dick Palmer.

Professor Lopez.

Professor! Dick Palmer.

Extraordinary. Without the benefit of
autopsy, my diagnosis is natural causes.

You'd better try again, Doc.

I was with Bradshaw when he died.

He knew he was going to die.

Just like Dick Palmer.

Now, one case of premonition I can
accept, but two, try again.

Look!

There.

Must be a dozen at least.

More than a dozen.

That's what Bradshaw said.

What are they? I don't know.

Vitamin insect?

Skin infection?

Try curare.

Test for curare.

It's virtually undetectable.

But if you look very closely now, isn't
that possible, Dr. Kendrick?

It's outside my experience.

There are tests, yes.

Of course, it'd be easier and quicker if
I had some form of comparison.

I can arrange for that, too.

Professor Lopez that was.

It's 99 % certain that he died from
curare poison.

Yes, but it's the 1 % that kills you.

Eh? Oh, nothing. Nothing important.

I think.

A strategic withdrawal.

It makes obvious sense.

Your perfect killing machine is still
perfect, but in serious jeopardy.

It must be closed down, suspended for a
while.

A few months at the most, and... Of
course, I'm only an unofficial observer.

A remarkably astute one, Colonel Lenko.

Yes, you're right.

Tiny slivers of ice.

Infantesimal. Evidence, Raker.

Evidence.

Evidence that I can flush away with one
cup full of water.

And yet, it still frightens me.

One scratch.

The tiniest breaking of the skin.

Still frightens me.

But that's good, eh, Colonel?

Never to grow contemptuous or
overconfident of something so very

You're immune, you.

Swig that antidote at every opportunity.
Every hour on the air.

They only show protection.

But even so, I'm still frightened.

I'll be happier when Steed is out of the
way.

Well?

Curare? It could be.

It is.

Undetectable.

Administered through the merest scratch.

But how?

All those agents were on leave, or about
to go.

That means a medical check -up. Poison
stethoscope?

I'm in charge of the medical division.

Then it has to be some other way.

An ordinary blowpipe.

But why only those who are going on
leave?

Plot to disrupt the tourist board.

That's funny.

Not the way I said it.

Those little red marks, they've been
bothering me, but I remember now.

Let's check back through the files. When
I was a child, the boy next door shot

him with an air pistol, hit me in the
hand.

Left a very similar little red mark.

Guns. Was staring us in the face. The
medical, the practical test.

The target range. Simulated combat.

People firing at us all the time. From
every angle. We expect to be hit. One

and you're dead.

Purdy.

Purdy went through there a couple of
hours ago.

Oh, sorry, Tony.

What is this?

Oh, Paddy, you're awake.

Well, what girl could sleep through two
men bursting into her bedroom? We were

worried about you.

Judging from your behaviour, I should be
worrying about you. It's good to find

you alive.

Oh, you're not still going on about
that, are you? But you were hit. She was

hit. We were wrong.

You were hit.

Only 99%. And it's the 1 % that kills
you.

Doctor. Kendrick.

Feed it dead, or it will be.

Excellent.

But there'll be inquiries.

The target range... We'll close it down
right away.

Remove all evidence.

Tucker?

Colonel Lenko.

An unofficial observer?

Well, there'll have to be a report.

The means of your killing machine are
without question.

But the method and your administration
of it... Oh, yes.

There'll have to be a report.

I was afraid of that.

Craker!

That's it, Colonel.

We must remove all evidence.

Curare. We know that.

What we want is the antidote. I've been
trying to locate a supply all day.

Then where is it?

A lethal dose of curare is unknown in
this country. Why would we keep an

antidote on hand? We mustn't let her
die.

Antidote.

What?

Your hat.

What?

Your bowler hat.

If she dies... I know, I feel the same.

I'll hunt them down and I won't stop
until I've found them.

We'll hunt them down. She means as much
to me as she does to you.

But we're all expendables.

I know the rules, Steve.

But it'd be dirty.

If she dies,

if she dies, I'll save her, I'll save

her.

Must unload every gun. No evidence.

No...

Dean.

Dean!

Birdie.

We gotta help Birdie.

Dean! Oh, Birdie.

We have him, Joko.

We have him cold.

We know where he's going.

We know what he's heading for.

You aren't going to shoot.

Now, you shoot and I drop this bottle.

Now, please.

The gun.

Anything you say.

Steve, I, uh... I think you ought to let
me have that.

Kat.

She's coming round.

Some party.

Yes. And lucky for you, we brought a
bottle.

Are we going on somewhere?