Original subtitles

(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)