All language subtitles for 614. The Interrogators

(theme music plays)

- When?
- Not long.

I mean exactly when.

12:00.

We kill John Steed
at 12:00 noon.

12:00 noon.

Do you know, Rhonda...

I absolutely abhor noise.

What I like about you
is your complete noiselessness.

A rare quality in a woman.

No, no, no, don't spoil it.

Don't say anything.

Put the silencers on...

And reduce them
to a muffled buzz.

- (chuckles)
- (telephone rings)

Yes?! What?!

King: Steed?

Do I sound like Steed?

No, you sound touchy
and irritable.

Mother!

Yes.
Mother, Miss King.

What are you doing
at Steed's apartment?

Occupying it.

Listen, is Steed having
a party or something?

I could soon be over there
and join in.

No!

I am just borrowing
Steed's apartment

whilst my own chambers
are being redecorated.

Isn't it the teeniest
bit crowded there?

I'll say it is.

No, no, no,
Steed's not here.

He went to Department S.

Department S?
Is he badly hurt?

How is he?

As well as can
be expected.

I must go and see him.
Can that be arranged?

I suppose so.
You know the drill.

Yes.

We better synchronize
our watches.

9:47 and 35 seconds.

Right.

You can go in
at 10:30 precisely.

Right.

And when I say precisely,
I mean precisely.

One half second the wrong way,
and you'll be dead, Miss King,

quite dead.

A breakout?

Any idea who's
on the loose?

Oh, well.

Check up and let me know
immediately.

(beeping)

Department S security?
Mother here.

Entry countdown
starting now.

Five...

four...

three...

two...

one...

zero.

Just testing.

Over there.

Steed?

- Tara!
- Oh, Steed!

How nice to see you.

You found your way
out here then?

Yes, just about.

The approach is the tiniest
bit unconventional.

It's chiming countryside,
though, don't you think?

Pull up a chair and tell me
all about the outside world.

No, first thing's first.

I brought you some grapes.

Grapes?

I hope it's not
against the rules.

Absolutely forbidden.
The glasses are over there.

It's supposed to be
an extra-special vintage,

every grape hand-trodden.

(gunfire)

Nice shooting.

- Who is he?
- Hmm?

The watchdog.

Oh, that's Giles Cornwall.
He's in charge of security.

He's a nice chap.

Takes his job very seriously,
doesn't he?

He has to.
I can't say I envy him.

After all, what's more honorable
than a wounded agent?

Two wounded agents.

Exactly.

And at any given time,

he has a bevy of them
here to look after.

That can't be right.

This is the most secret
nursing home in the country,

- and what's more...
- I meant bevy.

A bevy of secret agents.
That can't be right.

You know, I don't think there
is a collective noun for us.

How about a lurking
of secret agents?

A skulking?

A contentment.

Agents aren't
particularly content.

Hmm. This one is.

Would you like me to prescribe
something for those nerves?

Sorry, Doctor.

Really, Cornwall, we are
ringed round with minefields

and electrified dunces,
and I don't see how you...

I had to switch the defenses off
to let a visitor in.

Always leaves me feeling
a bit jumpy.

Two minutes slow.

That is willow herb,
a weed.

(door unlocks)

- Good morning, Steed.
- Good morning, Doctor.

May I introduce
Miss Tara King?

- This is Dr. Hyde.
- How do you do?

Ooh, Cornwall told me
we had a visitor.

He didn't tell me it was a girl
and a charming one at that.

He probably regarded it
as restricted information.

Tell me, Doctor, how is he?

Do you intend to dine with him
the moment he's up in about?

Yes.

Then I predict a quite
remarkable recovery.

Excuse me.

Ooh, by the way, Steed,

save me a drop of
that champagne.

You know, you still haven't
told me how it happened.

- Eh?
- Your leg.

Happened when I was
crossing the wall.

- Berlin?
- Garden.

It's not as unromantic
as it sounds.

I was chasing someone at
the time across five gardens.

Who were you chasing?

A suspected saboteur.

- A ruthless type?
- Utterly.

Trampled right across
a bed of Queen Mary roses.

(door opens)

Whoops.
Sorry, Dr. Carson.

- Good morning.
- Morning!

You haven't seen
Sir Rodney, have you?

I haven't seen him
all morning.

Well, time for
his injection.

- If you do happen to see him...
- I'll be happy to tell him.

Oops.

Perfect.

So, you went
over the wall...

Ah, yes.

- I swung myself to the top.
- And that's where he shot you?

I shot him.

A rather pretty snapshot
at 80 yards.

- And then?
- I moved in for the coup,

swung myself to
the ground straight onto a...

A booby trap.

Cucumber frame.
It was very nasty.

It's Angela's birthday
on Saturday.

Angela?
Who's Angela?

My niece.

She's nine years old
on Saturday.

It wouldn't do to forget
her birthday.

I can't think
what to buy her though.

What's that got to do
with killing Steed?

Why, nothing.
Whoever said that it had?

I wonder if she's too old
for a doll's house.

I went and picked up your
letters at your apartment.

Oh.
Thank you very much.

Good morning.

- Hello.
- Ah, Sir Rodney.

Carson was looking for you
with hypodermic poise.

I shall be in my room.

Sir Rodney Woodham Baines.

I thought he was a diplomat.

He is a diplomat.

Well, how did he get...

Someone threw a bomb
during the peace talks.

Now there's a pity.

I've been sent a ticket
for the opera June the 19th.

That's today, isn't it?

Mm, and I won't be going.

Hey, perhaps
you can make use of it.

I don't think either of us
will be making use of it.

This ticket's for June 19th
seven years ago.

Well, I've heard of things
being lost in the post,

- but that's ridiculous.
- Crazy.

Or someone's
playing a joke.

If they are,
I don't get the punch line.

Maybe it comes later,
seven years later.

June the 19th.

Remember something?

June the 19th
seven years ago.

Seven years ago to the day.

Almost to the hour.

(gunshot)

A bullet's very accurate.

But noisy.

Hello? Hello?

Dead as a doornail.

Probably just
a temporary fault.

Hello? Hello?

Hello!

You know, I've always felt
there was something

lacking around here,
and now I know just what.

Well, come on, Steed.
Don't keep it all to yourself.

- Introduce me.
- Roger Lyall, Tara King.

Definitely a pleasure.

Would you mind taking her
to Cornwall's office?

- Would I mind?
- There's a radio transmitter
there for emergencies.

Cornwall?
Nobody home.

Can I have a look
at the transmitter?

Over here.

I wonder who did this.

I think we'd better
find Giles Cornwall.

He was prowling around here
a little while ago.

- I'll look up there.
- Well, it'll make a change.

Having a bit of excitement
around here.

Cornwall didn't
come in here, did he?

No. Why'd he want to?

Someone has smashed
his transmitter.

Cornwall!

You will go no further.

I'll go wherever I like.

Very well.

But beyond the markers,
the minefield begins.

Oh, I see.
I'm sorry, thank you.

I was just looking
for Giles Cornwall.

Have you seen him?

What are you doing
out here anyway?

Enjoying a rare commodity...

Solitude, mademoiselle.

Solitude.

Steed: Carson,
have you seen Dr. Hyde?

Not recently, but he must
be somewhere about.

Anything I can do?

Cornwall can have the only key
to the defense mechanism.

Hyde must have a spare one
hidden away somewhere.

This is important.

Well, I just assist him
medically,

but all right,
I'll ask him.

Cornwall?

(softly) Cornwall?

With a boy, it's easy.

Just lay down a hogshead
of good claret,

and by the time he's
old enough to enjoy it,

the wine's
at its most drinkable.

But a girl...

I wonder if she's too old
for a teddy bear.

What time is it?

Well?

Not yet.

It's a pleasure working
with a colleague

who has such
a versatile cellar.

Fairly warms the cockles
of your heart.

Jolly good fellow, Steed.

An absolute paragon of...

I wonder if he buys it
all on expenses.

(muffled telephone rings)

Mother here.

Kafka's escaped?

Well, of course I know who
he'll be coming for... Steed.

It's a good thing he happens
to be in the only place

where no one can get at him.

I think it's time you told me
what this is all about.

- Cornwall's dead.
- Very.

And the key to the defenses?

Gone.
So is his gun.

Gerard Kafka.

Mean anything to you?

You told me about him
didn't you?

He was head
of Murder International

and you grabbed him
a few years ago.

Seven years ago.
Today.

June the 19th...
at 12:00 noon.

But he has life in prison.

I think this means he's out
and coming here.

Why?

- To kill me.
- Just you?

At a guess, yes.

- A guess?
- An educated guess.

I don't you have anything
to fear, Lyall.

Fear?! Who said
anything about fear?

If there's any kind of a rumpus,
I want to be in on it.

Listen, this is mad!

Absolutely nothing is going to
happen because the defense sys...

The defense system!

The system's activated
and locked.

No one
can possibly get in.

And who has the key?

And who killed Cornwall?

- Kafka?
- No.

If he were here, we'd know.

Kafka's not the type of man
to hang about.

- No, he's not here yet.
- But someone is.

Someone working for Kafka.

Someone who has
the only gun in the area

and the key to the defenses.

He's only got to unlock them and
let Kafka in any time he wants.

And meanwhile, we can't get out.
We're stuck here.

I thought I made that clear...
It's me he's after!

Oh?
And what about Cornwall.

And who's next?
Who's next?!

(gunshot)

Tara!

- (gunshot)
- Behind the barn!

Lyall...

It's not my fight!

Doctor.

Doctor Hyde!

No key.

Never get key.

Threw it away.

There.

My dear fellow,
why don't you sit down?

It's bad for the nerves,

you pacing up and down
all the time.

Stomach all knotted up,
is it?

My goodness,
you do get edgy, don't you?

You don't,
I suppose?

I did one the first
dozen or so times.

But it's just a job or work.

Sometime a little messy,
I'll agree.

But not too arduous
and remarkably well-paid.

What do you think
of a musical box for Angela?

It would amuse her now,
and later when she's grown up,

it will be something
to cherish.

If she didn't break it.

That's the trouble
with children nowadays.

So destructive.

Switched on
and working perfectly.

We don't have a thing
to worry about.

- Carson?
- He's dead.

Oh, and before he died,
he throw away the key?

- Why?
- Why? Well...

Carson didn't take the key
to let Kafka in.

He took it to stop us
getting out.

Now that can only mean
one thing.

Kafka's got another
way of getting in.

Well, we've still got
the gun

and all the odds
are on our side.

Yeah, but he won't come alone.
He'll be accompanied.

They'll be experts,
top professionals.

Well, about the men here?

They're experts,
top professionals.

And they're all wounded,
below power.

We'll improvise.

We'll use our expertise
where it counts most.

- I'll go and organize.
- Tara.

I wouldn't count on too much.
Where's Lyall?

Oh, he had an attack
of nerves temporarily.

Nerves?
That's why he's here.

Well, he'll rally round
when the time comes.

They all will.
You're rather valuable property.

The time has come.

Enter.

- Mademoiselle.
- Monsieur.

It's about Steed.

I presume you know
what's been happening here.

I have a fair idea, yes.

Then you know why
I've come to you.

I am an agent of my government,
not yours, mademoiselle.

It has cost a great deal of
money to train and develop me

into a weapon vital
to the defense of my country.

- I appreciate...
- I had assessed
this situation very carefully.

- So you will help.
- And logically.

Now, if I assist Steed,

the chances are that I, too,
will be killed.

- Well, that's...
- My death will in no way
benefit my country.

Therefore there is
no justification

for putting my life at risk.

No justification?

Not that I can see.

Oh, I suppose it doesn't matter
that Steed might get killed.

It matters very much.

I have a a great admiration
for him... professionally.

C'est la vie.

Correction...
C'est la guerre.

As you wish,
but it is not my war.

Bon merci, monsieur.

For your gallantry.

(classical
piano music playing)

Ah. Miss King.

Do come in.
Do come in, I...

Do come in.

(music stops)

I hope I may
offer you a drink.

No, thank you, Sir Rodney.

I'd rather get
straight to the point.

- I need your help.
- Of course, my dear.

By all means, delighted.
But, uh, sit down.

Sit down.

So, the damsel's
in distress.

- Steed's in trouble.
- Steed?

Yes, he needs your help.
I know you won't refuse...

Naturally not, particularly
if it pleases you.

Helps us to get to know
one another.

Hmm?

Then you will help.

Of course, my dear.

Now, what's Steed
been up to?

Some indiscretion?

You want me to put in
a good word at the ministry?

Hmm?

Listen, don't you know
what's been going on here?

You will have that drink,
won't you?

Didn't you hear the shots?

When I'm listening to my music,
I hardly... shots?

Yes, Carson, Cornwall,
Hyde, they're dead.

- What do you mean?
- I mean exactly what I say.

They're all dead,
and Steed's in great danger.

- Because Kafka's coming...
- Kafka?

Gerard K-Kafka?

You know him?

He's coming here
to kill Steed.

Now, if we don't help him,
he won't stand a chance.

Anyway,
now there are two of us.

Uh, Miss King?

It may be difficult
for you to understand.

But my political platform
has always been one

of nonviolence,
appeasement.

My image is that of a dove.

You see my predicament.
I want to help.

Indeed,
I would like to help.

But to involve myself
with violence,

the dove turned into the hawk,
my followers would lose faith.

But be assured,
should harm befall Steve,

I shall speak out loud
in the halls of fame,

cry out against
the senseless destruction

of man by man.

I'm Steed
will appreciate that.

(knock on door)

Mr. Lyall.

(knock on door)

Mr. Lyall!

Man:
(weakly) Can I help?

Over here.

The name is Sunley.
Edward Sunley.

Got nothing to do...
but eavesdrop.

And I've heard enough
to know you need help.

I...

I don't know there's
much I could do.

But if you push me
near the window...

I might be able to see
something to warn you.

Okay. Lie down.

Here we go.

Thank you.

What's the exact score?

Just me and Steed.

And me.
Don't forget me.

I won't.

How are we doing?

Fine, just fine.

Command a marvelous view
of the whole area from here.

How many exactly?

Listen, the weight
of numbers isn't...

How many agreed?!

Sunley.

Oh. (Chuckles)

Oh, good.

I thought that Sunley
would be the exception.

There's nothing much
he can do, of course,

but it's nice to know
I was right.

I've been here long enough
to make a fairly accurate

character assessment
of my fellow patients.

Could you make me
some tea?

Tea?

Yes. Tea.

China if you can find it.

Ching song.

Superb.
Simply superb.

I didn't miss anything,
did I?

(muffled telephone ringing)

Mother.

What?

Department S line
out of order?

Hold on!

Put a radio call
through to Department S.

They're not receiving.
Hold on.

Get me Colonel Berman
immediately.

Put out general alert
for Kafka, condition red.

Call a conference for all heads
of departments immediately.

- (muffled speech)
- Ah, Colonel Berman.

Tell me, what's the situation
at Department S?

- (muffled speech)
- Oh.

All systems functioning.
Are you sure?

(muffled speech)

Well, I can't tell you
how relieved I am, old bean.

(laughs)

It means that Steed is still
safe and sound inside.

How's your wife?

Good! You must come over,

and we'll have a rubber
of bridge one day.

Yes! Splendid.

(chuckles)

(muffled telephone ringing)

Mother.

What?

Well, why didn't
you tell me that before?

Kafka escaped
by helicopter.

Steed is mine.

Mop up any opposition.

But Steed is mine.

Time for your tea.

Oh, that's fine.

Steed!

Look, now, I'm enjoying it.
It's exercise.

I'm at the root
of this little problem,

and I think that
I should deal with it.

Alone.

Kafka won't be alone,
will he?

Well, all the same,
I'd prefer you

to be out of the way.

I really would prefer it.

You might stand a chance.
Now please sit down.

Now look, what I lack
in physical agility,

I can make up for with
a degree of low cunning.

You forget the luck
of the Irish.

You're English.

Don't quibble
over small points!

Now, Tara, I hate to do
this to you.

But I'm going to lock you away
until it's all over.

What was it?

A valuable property
to be protected?

But that's ridiculous, Steed,
I can help you.

You'd be a hindrance.

Now, I'd be worrying about you,
get us both killed.

Please, come on.

(helicopter approaching)

I'm sorry.

But it was
a very good vintage.

(clock ticking)

It's only a girl.

(gunshot)

(classical piano music plays)

- (board creaks)
- Drop it!

All right, bright girl,
this way.

Turn around.

I don't like to see
the eyes.

(gunshot)

Kafka!
Kafka, can you hear me?!

It's checkmate.

You can't go any further,
and you can't get past me.

You're on your own now,
Kafka.

Listen, Kafka,
why don't you give up?

- What are you offering?
- You throw down your guns

and come out,
and then I'll tell you.

Give me time to think.

I'll give you 10 seconds.

One... two...

three... four...

five.. six...

seven... eight...

nine... ten.

All right, I'm coming out.

As you said.

Checkmate.

And then... Steed.

Kafka!

It's me you want.

Steed.

And I came here for a rest.

Feel like flying
a helicopter?

(doorbell rings)

- Ready?
- Almost.

- Come along in.
- How's your leg?

Oh, it's much,
much better.

I won't be swinging
a leg for a while, but...

Doesn't matter,
we won't dance,

just gaze into
each other's eyes.

What, for me?

It's a little gesture
of my affection and gratitude.

Oh, you shouldn't have!

It's just what I wanted.

Mmm. It's just
a memento, you know.

Oh, look inside.

Oh... thank you.

Well, that will come
in handy.

- Thank you.
- There's more.

Very stylish,
if I may say so.

Cigars?

Oh, my dear, you know,
I wondered where those went.

Isn't it beautiful...

(machinery whirs,
bells chime)

A sundial?

Rather unique.
It's luminous.

Shall we go?

Luminous?

(theme music plays)