Original subtitles

Journalists are not supposed to know about it.

We see our memorial to the December that we are just planning the inauguration

ceremony.

But maybe I can get for you an interview with Lech Walesa.

Lech Walesa?

Coming here?

Lech Walesa is here.

Leaders of Solidarity.

The Church.

Three agents from the West.

Great, they've worked it well.

You're just going to walk through the front door, back into the middle of

He knew as well as I did that that old man had been manoeuvred and manipulated

by Vicky and London Central.

An insane escapade that depended totally on the trust and loyalty between a

father and son.

You hadn't seen each other for 20 years.

Success.

I'm sorry, I'm not here for an interview.

You are not the journalist, are you?

No.

Out.

Whoever you are and whatever you are doing, you shouldn't put us at risk.

Let me talk to him, Bert.

We came here to talk to him.

Yuri, you're not alone.

What's the matter with you?

All you have to do is hate him!

Point of

no

return, Bernd.

I can take you no further.

I've been here before, Rolf.

Oh, good.

It was the point of no return for me.

London Central had sacrificed us with their ignorance and arrogance and

stupidity.

But, Julie, I hope you never realize they made your son betray you.

Why didn't we play with Wolf, Bernard?

He has a dozen places to cross and a dozen frontier guards in his pocket.

Who is it?

Someone telling you the Browns Network effect retained?

So we have to put our loan index right in the middle of the news?

Yuri, we're at the Waldorf.

You don't fool me, Bernard.

You are as happy about all this as I am.

It's worked before. It'll work again.

What is it?

The Waldorf?

They open the gates at midnight.

Which one? What gates?

Down to the river.

On the border.

They patrol the jeeps along the riverbank.

The gate's left open for them.

And for us.

And beyond that gate?

Oh, clear track through the minefield.

Ah.

Fine.

Track.

Through the minefield.

It's directly ahead, in line with those trees.

They've relayed the bloody miles.

Rostov, young, deceased.

Samson, burned, resigned, non -operational.

Waldorf, East German border, operation terminated.

One fatality, abandoned.

One survivor.

No, I'm eating that thing. Look, look at that one.

You know what that is?

What? A snake going upstairs.

Baths running, children.

Right, upstairs.

Now look, just look at that.

They're all covered in goo and yellow.

Go on, brush those teeth.

Oh, darling.

Like that, precious?

Oh,

monkey.

I'll keep you up to date.

I'll come and tuck you in in a minute, all right?

Peace.

Oh, thanks, darling. I needed that.

I thought this stuff was all meant to be redundant.

Our system's under scrutiny.

We've got to double -check some operations.

Worried about security, are we?

What would I know?

Don't get too comfortable, Bernie.

Dickie Cryer wants you upstairs to share his coffee.

And he's sent you his tray of appendix for you to deal with.

Different colour than the last time I was in here, Dickie.

A shade bitter, would you say?

It tastes the same to me.

It is pure chaga, Bernard.

Fresh roast and ground this morning.

You really are a terrible tease.

It's all very entre nous this afternoon, Bernard.

German desk discretions are not of the usual sort.

Frank's been on the phone from Berlin.

As you know, Frank is to a degree autonomous.

But on matters of security, the desk as a whole becomes responsible.

I need you to tell me all the permutations.

Sounds like a Christmas game, Dickie.

This is one occasion, Bernard, when I'd be grateful if you'd refrain from the

facetious. I need to know all the permutations in order to arrive at an

assessment of source material in Berlin, Bernard.

Berlin, I know, is five years out of date.

Oh, come along.

We used to know all the dark corners and what came out of them. Things can't

have changed that much.

For instance, I should like to know what Frank might call a usual source.

Pretty girl.

You really do make serious conversation very difficult at times.

Permutations, Bernard.

Well, Berlin is 99 % communication sticky.

The actual source could be anywhere.

East Germany, Poland, Russia.

It all gets channeled through Berlin at some time or another.

You ought to ask Werner Volkmann. He used to sit in the communications hutch.

Werner Volkmann's the last person I intend to ask.

What you're trying not to say to me, Dickie, is that there's been a leak in

Berlin.

It's our German desk, Bernard.

Anything wrong in Berlin reflects on us all.

Exactly, it's been leaked.

Berlin stuff.

That's all Frank would say.

I mean, it's not so much the leak itself, it's the fact that they've

leak back to us.

Makes people jumpy, Bernard.

For instance, how are your Brahms people going to react?

Not my Brahms people, Dickie.

You set the network up.

Oh, and apropos, and rather Brett Rensselaar didn't hear a word about

last thing I need is him marching in here with all his Brahms network

preoccupations. He's very thick with Fiona at the moment, computerising all

rubbish, so no pillow talk, Bernard.

Don't worry, Richard.

I'm always fast asleep by the time Fiona comes to bed.

No offence, no offence.

I just know how easy it is between husband and wife, chit -chat.

Put the permutations down in a memo for me. Would you do that, Bernard? Please?

Yes.

Oh, no, Bernard, on second thoughts, there's no need for a memo.

Just a piece of paper.

Handwritten.

Invisible ink.

I do.

Well,

where have you been out of my life all this time?

I think it is you out of our life, Bernie.

Why, did I send you Christmas cards?

Fiona sent me Christmas cards.

Three years we don't see each other, and then you ask me out to tea in a transit

lounge.

Where you have access with your ID card, and where I go through no passport

control.

So no one knows we meet, Mika.

Except now I have, um, perfectly an unnecessary flight to Dublin and back.

Expenses?

I think it's Bernard Sampson on his own.

How's the Browns network?

I only seen them unofficially.

And?

Maybe they are a little jumpy these days.

What the hell is it all about, Bernie?

Do you go over a lot?

Two, three times a month.

Oh, in and out of the East like that?

Perhaps Frank Harrington thinks you're doing some kind of black market racket.

Frank told you that?

Frank hasn't told me anything for four years. You'll have to ask Fiona what the

computers are writing about you in the yellow submarine.

They say she's, um... Yeah, she has a higher security clearance than me now.

She's... She's doing fine. She's very good at her job. How's your Zena?

She changed my life.

Like Fiona changed yours.

Have I come all this way to talk about my wife?

You have never heard of the telephone?

Come on.

Bernie.

There's been some leak in Berlin.

And the East is feeding back what has been leaked.

And they'd only do that if they wanted to destabilize someone or something.

So, if anything does go wrong, Frank Harrington has your name down.

So, I have to thank you for the warning, but I also keep an ear to the ground

for you.

A little nothing for your kids.

Remember, Mr. Fiona, and love to the kids.

Maybe we'll have tea again.

One day in three years' time.

Silas had worked for intelligence back in the days when reports were done in

copperplate and agents paid in sovereigns.

Brett Rensselaer.

It's like a working weekend for you, my girl.

Darling!

Hello. Andrew.

All alone?

Open them, Bernard.

And hide the cassies from Dickie Cryer. Good lovely little things.

Dickie, how absolutely lovely.

I like to see a real slice of meat on my plate.

I hate all these sauces and purees.

The French can keep that nonsense.

Steady on, Silas. Can't let you defame la cuisine française in that cavalier

fashion.

The cradle will get blackballed by Paul the Cuse, Dickie.

Cooking, like adultery, is the art of the possible.

All the French have been brought up on odds and ends. You don't want that muck

if you can afford proper food.

But I think you ought to try la cuisine nouvelle.

Don't you, Dickie?

Lightweight dishes.

With every plate of food designed like a picture.

Big coloured plates with tiny scraps of carrots and leek.

And puddles of wet stuff that look like cat vomit.

The beef is perfect, Uncle Silas.

But just a small slice.

Well done, Sally.

Good God, woman.

Well done, meat?

No wonder she looks so damn peaky.

What's peaky?

Pinched, anemic, white, and ill -looking.

Get some of that down here. Make your hair curl.

Don't tell me you want it well done.

Bleu, for me.

Avec un petit peu de moutarde anglaise.

Parfait, the pomme de terre, someone.

Give you something to get hold of.

Eat.

Mrs. Porter, lay out coffee for the gentleman in the billiard room.

Women and children will be in the drawing room.

Fiona, you will take charge of the fresh air brigade.

Well,

let's go.

Well,

it's no bloody good at ball games, so you'd better partner me.

If you two promise not to quarrel.

No problem.

If we're only here to play snooker.

You break.

You have a leak in Berlin, and Brahms IV is acting the goat.

Don't all shout at once.

I was not aware this leak originated in Berlin.

A bit off limits, aren't we? Don't, don't, you bloody fool, Dickie.

The GG knows you're all down here.

He wants a few heads banged together.

One could say if B4 was playing the goat, he's no longer reliable as a

If there's been a leak in Berlin, it's bloody obvious why he's lying low, and I

should have been told about it.

The memo's on your desk. It's waiting for Monday morning.

Let's establish priorities, shall we?

Number one priority being that neither the department nor Whitehall can afford

to lose Brahms 4.

Possibly you mean your particular branch of the department can't afford to lose

him, Brett?

Isn't he about the only raison d 'etre for your committee?

My committee is currently the raison d 'etre for the whole of MI6.

The DD said you'd put up Burnham's name to sort out Brahms.

Well, Burnham's not the bloke to send over to the other side. His face is too

well known.

They'll just sit in his tail until he makes contact.

Next thing we know, we'll be trying to figure out who we can swap for him.

Bernard's been sitting on his ass in London for the past five years, Dickie.

Who's going to remember him in Berlin?

At your insistence, he's been sitting in London.

And it's you who's insisting now.

Children.

Down there.

Up here.

Have we asked ourselves what we think might have happened to him?

I mean, it's not the first time there's been a leak.

Brahms IV has blown a fuse, hasn't he?

Out of the blue?

Well, he has been a bit soggy for the last year or so.

Then there have been big changes over there.

Oh, PG.

What the hell's PG, Dickie?

Oh, F .O. Slag, sir. Postcorporate.

He was also asking for more money.

Did he get it?

Oh, yes.

Do you still maintain your contact with him, Silas?

What contact?

Well, Silas ran Browns as a personal control.

Personal?

We were Germans.

Sharing girls, falling down drunk together, that sort of thing.

And you've been running him ever since?

Running him as a sleeper for the first 20 years.

That was why he was never blown.

The Philby crowd never saw his file.

You don't know much about him.

It's a very restricted file.

In fact, it's a non -existent bloody file.

How much do you know?

He could walk into this room now, and I wouldn't know him.

Everything else about him I think I do know.

That makes only two people this side of the Iron Curtain who knows what the poor

old sod looks like.

A matter of some importance if we're going to decide who's going over the

to talk to him.

So you laid him in as a sleeper.

And Bernard activated him.

Well, I had no idea he had had direct contact.

Brahms IV saved Bernard's life once.

But some considerable risk to himself.

We found ourselves holed up at Weimar.

Usual bloody cock -up.

What are you doing?

Booch.

Silas said you'd be feeling like you'd been on the hooch.

High in perception, low in spirit.

First few words you ever spoke to me, I'd say, in the park.

Hello, you're Bernard Sampson.

Uncle Silas says you've just come back from doing something rather dangerous.

He's very good at setting me up, your Uncle Silas.

He told me to look after you.

Do you realize that's when this whole Brahms business started?

I'd just come back from setting up the network.

That's what this afternoon was all about.

I was beginning to feel quite left out.

Listen, if I'd known it was me and not you that were going to hang out to dry,

wouldn't have come.

Who is Brahms for?

When I was trapped in Weimar, he was the man that came back for me.

Brave thing to do for a man as frightened as he was.

And now Silas is going to nail me with it.

What's his name?

Okay, Silas.

If Walter knows there's a leak in Berlin, that's why he's jumping.

Browns, Bernard.

Even my walls could have ears.

And if there is a leak, we ought to be getting him out.

Do you think it's Berlin leaking?

We were set up in Gdansk by somebody in London.

I made a report about that four years ago. The report has been buried ever

since.

Conjecture, an ancient history, and paranoia.

Eternal paranoia, my old dad used to tell me, is the price of liberty.

Vigilance is not enough.

I'm meant to be knocking heads together this weekend.

Not listening to self -indulgence.

In that case, Silas, perhaps you could start by being honest.

I beg your pardon, Your Honor.

Does Bronze IV know you're no longer his personal control?

I mean, unless I misread the signs yesterday, it seems control has passed

Brett Rensselaer.

It would have been an absurd security risk to tell him.

I sent him the odd stilt and smoked salmon so he knows I'm still here.

You swapped personnel and kept the code names the same.

It's been done before.

Not with Rose for it, hasn't it?

He's probably wondering who the hell it is on the end of his line. I mean,

people have different ways of doing things.

Brett Rensselaer's no pussyfoot. No wonder he's bloody twitching.

It's very lonely out there, Silas.

You know that.

He asked specifically for you, Brahms.

He knows you would never betray him.

Wouldn't I?

No.

I'm not going, Silas.

I haven't been through that wall for nearly six years.

I'd get the boat killed.

Trust Brett to be teaching a good English girl how to hold a cricket bat.

Brett Rensselaer's the only man I know who keeps a special chair by his desk

that he can chuck it on.

Morning, Brett.

Oh, nice weekend.

Reading between the lines.

I'd say Dickie Cryer's decided the Brahms 4 has flipped his lid.

I'd say he intends to call in a consultant psychiatrist to study the

He what?

Let the head shrinkers into a meeting and we'll be on the front page of you

-know -which of next Sunday's newspapers.

Complete with misquotes, misspellings, bits by our own special correspondents.

Kill it, Bernard.

Yes, we should ask ourselves in passing, of course, whether some of his paranoia

isn't justified.

Justified?

Ah.

High -level leaks here in London.

This request for a list of everyone in London who has access to his files.

How about Werner?

You're quite a poker player, Bernard.

Only for matchsticks.

Ever wonder what'll happen to you when you retire?

No. Well, I guess your wife has money.

Though I'd say you're the kind of inverted snob who wouldn't want to use

it.

On the other hand, if you were to invest her dough and double it, you'd do no

one any harm, right?

Or join you in moonlighting in the city, you mean.

Each time I ask you a question, I find you ask me one back.

I didn't know I was being questioned.

Are you vetting me?

In this business, it does no harm to flip the pages of someone's bank balance

from time to time.

Well, of course, people like you who work in the field always have stuff

away in numbered accounts elsewhere.

What would I stash away? Luncheon vouchers?

Verna's in a tough business, Brett, and on very low margins. He has no fat to

give me kickbacks, if that's what you're implying.

So how's he stayed in business?

By scratching.

If he goes out of business, we lose a good opportunity and a very useful

contact.

What kind of bread are we talking about?

An overdraft facility.

One million Deutschmarks.

Did Verna Valkman put you up to this?

I haven't been in close contact with Verna for years.

Besides, He always likes to make out he's doing well.

So how do you know he's strapped for cash?

Because, Brett, in this business, it does no harm to flip the pages of

bank account from time to time.

According to Lord Moran, there are four categories. Those who have no fear at

all... Yeah, yeah, yeah. And those that crack up.

Everyone loses their nerve sooner or later. You can't go on being frightened

every hour of your life.

Well, does Brett agree Bramsfall might have lost his nerve? How should I know?

It's years since I had anything to do with it.

How would you feel, Bernard, about a cheap day return to Burnley?

How should I feel, Richard?

I've been back in a long time.

Four years?

Five.

Am I saying so, Dickie? But you seem to spend the whole bloody weekend trying to

keep me out of Germany.

B4 at Charlie.

Meeting Brahms 4 at checkpoint Charlie, Bernard.

Brahms coming over the wall.

Brett didn't seem to know anything about that.

If Brahms is threatening to walk out, that's the station's job. German death.

Berlin Field.

Must we consider it a security priority?

He's threatening to walk out on an old US passport he's dug up.

It would be fairly embarrassing.

But fairly dangerous if things go wrong.

For him.

What do you want me to do if he does come over? Send him back?

He just strikes me as the sort of man who might panic.

I mean, if he intends taking a walk down Norman Strasser with the KGB

debriefers, we'll have to move a little fast.

You mean kill him?

Expedient demise, Bernard.

He's one of our own people, Dickie.

He's an old man who's been working in extreme danger for us for 20 years.

Jesus Christ, is it my turn next?

This little trip to Berlin is strictly a one -off. I have no intention of

letting you back in the field.

I have no intention of going back in the field.

Yes, well, you'd better get down to the Yellow Star.

Refresh yourself on some of the files.

No clearance.

I'll ring it down to them.

Hello?

Can I help you?

Yes, could you find me those, please?

Yeah, sure.

Here are your discs.

And paper.

You need an access code.

May I? I think you're pressing the wrong button.

Look, I'm sorry to have to ask you this, but do you have clearance for these

files?

Oh, Mr.

Sanson, I'm sorry. All right.

Don't worry. I know my wife makes the rules down here.

I wouldn't want to be the one caught breaking them.

And you're going to have to enter your ID number as well for a restricted file.

Okay? I see. All is revealed.

Great. Thank you.

All set, are you?

It's not a trip to Mars, Mackenzie.

Cut me into the action one day.

Be your friend forever. Double Cambridge first, don't get sent in the field.

You're going to hold that against me for the rest of my days?

No,

on the contrary.

Anyone in this building who isn't Belial Oxford has ipso facto earned my

friendship. And what about Jesus Oxford, Samson?

I hear you're being sent to Berlin.

City no one told me.

You're staff and desk, Samson. You pick up a passport.

The DG has to know, see, and approve.

Unless I put things to him, he doesn't get to know anything.

I saw the DG this morning.

He thinks I'm my father.

But whoever I am, I'm quite sure he's well aware of where I'm going.

Berlin Mackenzie.

Mr. Sampson used to be a field agent out there. Used to be very good, I think.

Yeah.

Well, you should have more respect for men that used to be.

Four years you've been away.

And you slip back like a thief in the night.

And away again in the morning.

I don't want Frank Harrington to know I'm here.

You mean the Berlin office hasn't been told?

Not unless they have a tap into the personal computer here.

They have.

But it's run by idiots.

clowns up there now, Bernie.

Not interested no more in the old Berlin friends.

You include me in with them?

They pulled me out, Bernard.

They pulled us both out, Dan.

Look, I lost my nerve.

I doubt that.

Maybe they just say you lost your nerve.

Well, I suppose it should cheer me up to see Berlin again.

It never came back to cheer me up.

You got married. You got a new car. You don't need cheering up.

How is, what's her name?

You mean Zina?

You won't see her tonight.

She's visiting her mother, Munich.

I'll show you the photographs.

Fuck, the bleach is still living, thankfully.

My

God!

typewriter, tidy debt, no model airplanes.

Things have changed since I was last here.

Young wives, Bernie, they take charge.

You know what it feels like, Bernie, with a young woman.

The whole world starts all over again.

Is that why Frank Harrington doesn't use me anymore? Because I'm married?

I wouldn't know anything about Frank Harrington these days.

What's this, a Catholic church, you heathen shiksa?

She wanted to be in white, Bernie.

Big party.

You both had invitations.

Oh, no.

Where is she?

Last time I was here, their checkpoint was like a shed.

Charlie looks like a bus station now.

But it still scares the hell out of me, darling.

Jack, how long have we been waiting here?

Exactly a quarter of a century.

That Vopo, watching with his binoculars.

He wasn't even born when we started.

And we thought the wall would be knocked down after a few days.

Yeah, well, we were young then, weren't we?

Youth, the tough will not endure.

Then come kiss me, sweet and sweaty.

Checkpoint's closing.

Maybe tomorrow.

Whoever he is.

Uh -oh.

He was the one off.

No contact, abandoned.

I don't think he ever meant to come over.

I think he was trying to tell us.

I'm drowning, not waving.

Why did they send you?

That's a clerk's job.

Picking up agents through the wire.

Well, I'm a clerk, Bernard. That's what I've become.

Besides, you had an agent who needed a briefing.

She's run off, Bernie.

The Coca -Cola salesman from Munich.

More her age, perhaps.

Or her size.

Brahms.

That's who we were waiting for tonight.

Someone of the Brahms Network.

That's the only reason they would have sent you.

is to put my feet up at home and never have to be frightened ever again.

Don't kid yourself, Bernie.

Sooner or later, they'll be sending you back over the other side.

If it's Brahms, you're the only person they can send.