Original subtitles

There's a tale told somewhere south of Burma.

It tells of one man's rendezvous with death.

A man who, when pushed far enough, retaliated.

How he faced down an army and spilled a river of blood.

Naysayers shake their heads, discounting the legend.

But the fact remains.

It's all true.

I knew the man.

And for a while, I loved him like a son.

The French hightailed it in 54.

And the US didn't yet have boots on the ground.

For a while, Indochina offered safe haven to men who had reached the end of the line.

European war criminals, ex-Nazis, and other undesirables.

Or men with a price on their head in the West.

Men like...

Martin Tillman.

This is going to be the best.

Make your way!

Land Wirth!

Come on!

Come on!

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause.

and we are back.

The only thing I'm actually associated with is the execution.

I faced you as an equal, with the exception of

this blade, which were quite fairly matched.

They told me if I fought, I would go free.

This fight was your salvation, but you lost.

All right, I'm ready to land.

Come on, here!

Get out of here!

On your knees, son of a bitch!

Go on, shoot.

You want to take my place.

Come on!

Come on!

Come on!

You shouldn't have done that to the corporal.

I asked the guards why a colonial police station with

only one small jail would keep a prisoner for three years.

They said only you knew the answer.

Most prisoners who end up here have no hope.

I thought I might help... You come twice a week with flowers for him.

And he turns you away.

I can bring you fruit.

The food here is not healthy.

I don't need your help.

Don't waste your time on me.

You're not a waste of time.

You're just lost.

I'll come see you again.

In case you change your mind.

That agent is here again.

He's persistent.

I can kill him if you order it.

The world is changing, Paul.

We must adapt with it.

Isn't it your job to transition a local police into power?

The side effect being that for a brief few years you

need to be holding to the authority of the French.

Nor the Vietnamese.

Mr. Harrison, what can I do for you?

Ho Chi Minh's strength in the North grows as

President Diem's influence in the South diminishes.

The Americans are watching and will send more advisers within the year.

You and...

your kind...

will have to find a different flea pit to lord over.

Perhaps.

I might be of valuable assistance to you when they arrive.

At what price to me?

MI6 would like to extradite Martin Tillman to face criminal charges in Great Britain.

There's no one of that name here.

You're overlooking a potential opportunity here, Colonel.

I know what you did in the war.

You'll need a friend like me if you're going to deal with it.

Go up or shove Boone.

Please escort Mr. Harrison out.

When I was a little girl, I rescued a stray dog.

A fighting dog that had been left for dead.

I looked at those black eyes and felt the ultimate betrayal.

Some animals are not meant to be caged, Martin.

Why are you talking to me?

You made some bad decisions.

That's all.

I'll be back next week.

Goodbye.

Why do you bother coming back for him?

We built our own cages, Martin.

Alcohol's an easy panacea here.

Black Jamaican rum.

It'll help you forget your sins without losing your edge.

You were sorted as superior officer in 1953.

You have served...

three years of a six-month sentence.

What does that tell you?

It tells me I'm not the only criminal in this ring.

In the North, you're just an ex-lutionaire with a price on his head.

In the South, you're just another ex-con with no passport.

But that, too, is a writ of judgment against you.

An execution warrant in Great Britain.

You're not so dissimilar to us.

Take...

Signor Rastignac.

Spanish Blue Division.

Fought heroically for the Third Reich.

Corporal Chef Boone of the 5th Vietnamese Paratroopers.

Once a hero, now hunted by the Viet Minh as a traitor.

And Signor Amarillo.

Loyal to Pertin.

And fought until the end in Berlin.

Salute.

This room is full of men who bagged the wrong horses, indeed.

I'm feeling charitable.

So...

I'm fulfilling my...

obligation to you.

I'm paroling you.

Effective immediately.

You saying I'm free to go?

Our glorious run together is over.

For most of us, Indochina will be the last outpost.

But perhaps we can work together again under different circumstances.

If you ever find yourself in sport, I can always use a man with a talent like yours.

I think I'll just be moving along.

Think about it, Martin.

You don't look like a man with many opportunities.

You owe me now.

You ever see me again, don't you dare presume to forget that.

Are you sure this is wise?

I want that British agent out of my affairs.

The old colonel was right.

Martin wouldn't go far.

He headed to the only person he knew outside of the camp.

Which is where I met him.

This is Martin.

The one I was telling you about.

I have to leave now.

I want the two of you to be friends.

It's nice seeing you again, Martin Tillman.

There was once an Irish boxer named Tillman.

Showed potential.

Then disappeared.

Looked after her since she was knee-high to a jackrabbit.

She believes in the good in man.

You tell me where I can get a meal, I'll be leaving.

I have no beef with you, son.

And I could use a good bouncer.

You look like you can handle yourself.

She says you're a straight shooter.

When I was inside, she'd visit every week.

Always bringing flowers for the commandant.

You don't know.

God bless her innocent heart.

Give me the picture.

I'll be damned if that old flesh merchant, Hans Steiner, hit her own father.

Take some flowers once a week.

In the hope that he'll sit her on his knee and kiss her cheek.

Steiner married his Congai local girl, whom he later suspected of deceiving him.

When Isabel was born, that gave him sufficient reason to...

deny her.

I was Steiner's valet, saw the whole thing.

Adopted Isabel.

She deserves better than either of us.

You ever hurt Isabel and I'll kill you faster than I can shank a salmon.

And that's damn quick, boy.

There's an old storage shed out back you can bunk in.

You'll mostly deal with drunks.

Every so often some lame duck paws a girl.

They get one polite request.

Then...

do whatever it takes.

Shoot you.

I'll do it.

You know, you're just like I was, Martin.

But you ain't so old.

You could still change your path.

I'm nothing like you.

I'm young, handsome...

and I ain't burning the sun.

You son of a bitch.

But I have to say...

you're the only person in my whole life...

whoever went out of his way to help me.

I appreciate that.

Even the worst of us wants to be loved.

And for a time... Martin enjoyed a peace... he'd never known before.

Baron Valentin.

Certainly more.

Mais oui.

Certainly more.

He was

a freed prisoner.

She was an innocent...

who had watched her...

injured patient limp back to life.

It was only natural... that they would develop feelings for each other.

I'm not sure if Valentin did.

Is that what you believe in?

No, I was never a believer.

I joined the fight because...

my dad and my brother are in ahead of me.

Where I come from... that's just what you did.

Your home is here now... Martin Tillman.

Leave the past behind.

He turns to his friend... he says... Seamus, I told you last night...

you fucked a penguin.

You know, it's so damn easy to... get so wrapped up in life...

that you miss the precious moments like this.

Tell us the future.

The future.

Well, we damn sure ain't drinking to the past.

We're not going back where we've been before.

Cheers.

Cheers.

No, seriously TJ... I was out in New York, New York, two weeks.

Tell me what?

Have you broken your hands?

Well, it's without breaking my hands.

I've become a fucking baker.

Fair enough.

Never laid a glove on me.

Yeah, you did, but we weren't telling you.

Get the fuck out of here.

Who's this cunt think he is?

We've got ourselves a hard nut, lads.

There's a pretty penny out there for Legion deserves.

You know that.

You look like a fella who likes a good tear-up.

Well, you know what?

This is your lucky day, son, cause so do I.

Listen.

Is that your knees I hear knocking?

Go home.

If the idea is to have a fight, well, now's your fucking chance.

You did your job.

I told you I'm fine, okay?

You're not fine.

I'm fine.

Turn your head.

Turn your head.

Just joking.

Big baby.

Hey.

Ah.

Now it makes sense.

We're closed.

Come back tonight.

My country.

My laws.

My revolver.

Martin and I are old friends.

Care if I sit down?

Not my call.

Thank you.

Isabel, you better go.

Come on.

Does she still believe she's Steiner's daughter?

She is Steiner's daughter.

At great expense, our mutual friend, Colonel Steiner, flew in a champion boxer.

Last night, someone knocked him out cold.

I decided I should be the responsible party.

Mr. Valentine told you we're closed.

Why don't you come back tonight?

You just burned the most dangerous man in Indochina.

Right now, you need me more than anyone else in the world.

Why don't you come back and fight for us?

Steiner had the British agent sent north.

So, you can make some money.

Life can be good.

I'll take my chances here if it's all the same with you.

If you change your mind, you know where to find me.

Steiner needs to relocate his operation.

A bar like this would be a perfect fit.

Not my favorite customer.

We're closing early tonight.

Brought you bad luck.

Bad luck resides in our unconscious.

We inflict it on ourselves.

Seems to find me.

Listen to me, son.

I saw something inside you out there in the rain.

Maybe you need to stop running away from it.

Embrace it.

Martin!

I didn't think you'd be up this early.

I'll pray for you.

I want you to promise me something.

Don't ever watch me fight.

Or bet on me.

Or be any part of what happens to me when I get into that ring.

I don't understand.

Something happens to me in there.

It's a part of me I don't want you to see.

I bring bad luck to the people around me.

Martin Tillman.

I've considered your offer.

And, uh...

I believe I'll take you up on it.

Well, that wasn't so difficult, was it?

That's right.

Ennis!

Mix!

This is hide and seek.

Come

on, let's go for it.

Come on!

Where can I get you?

Gin and tonic highball, old boy.

Three ounces of gin to four ounces of tonic water.

Splash a lemon if you have it.

I think I can find some lemon juice somewhere.

I've been in the North.

It's refreshing to hear English spoken again.

Diplomatic service?

You might say that.

I'm looking for an Irishman.

A boxer.

He was here, but now he's gone.

There are a hundred local criminals in this vicinity.

Nazis on the run, murderers, wanted war criminals.

What's with this guy?

In 1946, Martin Tillman set off several

large bombs targeting our UCMB special units.

We know he was working with his father and brother, who were part of a...

flying column for the IRA.

But as they were killed in one of the blasts...

he's our loose end, you might say.

Can't help you.

Well, if he does turn up, you can find me via the British Embassy.

He looked like a man that could do with 10,000 pounds.

The reward money for information expediting his apprehension.

No, that's not what I meant.

Do you know what 10,000 pounds looks like in French Piastres, Mr. Valentine?

I hear you give your money to valentine you ever wonder how you would do in a

regular boxing match big money in America Madison Square Garden Imagine that...

I used to know people, politicians, investors, but I am S.S.

Steiner, and you are I.R.A.

Tillman.

I was sentenced to death by a war tribunal absentia,

and you have the British Secret Service hunting you.

So, all that we shall ever be is this.

That we are right now.

Dearest Isabel, I'm sorry I have not been in touch.

I deeply, profoundly loved your mother.

And I'm sure what you would really wish for

me to say is that, well, that I love you too.

Well, unfortunately I do not.

But you are, at best, the daughter of a whore.

I deserve no such dignity for your wishful thinking.

I was blinded by my own lust and inexperience.

I could never love the daughter of the woman who made a cuckold of me.

You are nothing but another faceless varmint

inhabitant of this festering wasteland.

Cordially, Hans Steiner.

How you doing?

I have a winning so far.

There was a British agent here asking after you.

I figured he'd catch up to me eventually.

The money's good, Martin.

But I don't need it.

Neither does Steiner.

You can quit when you want.

That's my military passport.

We can put your picture in it.

Steiner wouldn't like it.

Forget Steiner.

Take the money from tomorrow's fight.

Go to a military base.

America.

Take Isabel with you.

You're as good as back in jail here.

And you don't even know it.

Go to the States.

Get away.

Taste real freedom.

What about you, Abe?

I'll head south with my girl.

She's got family down there.

I'll do the next fight.

Then I'll have two weeks till the next one.

Then I'll give his team to get ahead of him.

Whatever wrong you've done, it doesn't matter to anybody.

Until you decide to go on living.

When the Europeans start arriving, the Americans will be next.

And we'll be in a great position to make some money.

How much should you gamble?

Now don't you worry your pretty little head about it.

You promised me.

You bastard!

Who do you think I am?

I don't want to talk to you!

You bastard!

Now just wait a minute.

This evening, many people found out that their great hero has no honor.

They're in the bar waiting for you.

No, no, no, look.

Here come my gentlemen now.

Okay, fellas.

How did I do?

You lost.

What?

You have until the end of the week to vacate.

The deed to this property, everything and

everything inside, now belongs to Monsieur Astignac.

Martin lost?

You knew?

You knew he was going to lose when you let Valentine gamble?

You son of a bitch.

What's your tongue like?

You don't want to upset me.

You're awful!

All of you!

You cowardly cheats!

Not one of you has the dignity you're bearing of Valentine.

You should be ashamed.

You and your pigs!

That's enough!

That's enough.

You've taken enough from us tonight.

I'm not taking any more.

It ends here!

And no Spaniard in a cheap suit with a

paid-off contract is going to take any more.

Do you understand?

Put it down, Valentine.

Stop it.

You're not a killer.

What are you doing?

What are you doing?

Everything okay, Valentine?

So there you have it.

Killed by three slugs from my own .45.

Everything just ceased to matter.

Not my life.

The bar.

Anything.

I just signed off.

It was a different story with Martin and Isabelle.

The thing about a sawn-off shotgun is, it's sheer hell at close range.

But over a throw, not so much.

The force of the hit dropped Martin.

Knocked him cold.

But it had missed everything vital.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Likewise with Isabelle.

The .45 that had finished me passed right through her.

She was a healthy young woman.

And well, it's said, the Human is the hardest animal to kill.

Martin had never had much call for religion.

But there in the jungle he reacquainted himself with his maker.

He begged God to let him die there.

To take his life in exchange for saving hers.

He offered God a proposal.

If she died, he'd follow her into the Twilight Kingdom.

But if she lived, it would become his mission to quench

with death those responsible for what had happened.

She deserves better than either of us.

You bring bad luck to the people around me.

Bad luck resides in our unconscious.

We inflict it on ourselves.

We live for our own good.

You saved our lives.

We will live for our own good from now on.

Though it broke his heart, Martin knew he could never see her again.

It had never been so goddamn clear as it was then.

He would have to kill them all.

Only then could he see her again.

Steiner, Rastignac, Amarillo, and Boone.

Just four men.

But in Martin's mind, the four reasons his life had been destroyed.

Come on in.

I'm waiting for Steiner tonight.

Make sure we have a bottle of non-opened cognac.

Okay?

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts.

And I looked, and behold a pale horse.

And his name that sat on him was Death.

And Hell followed with him.

I'm looking for Rastignac and Steiner.

Rastignac and Steiner.

I remember.

I remember!

You are those warriors I obeyed.

Son of a bitch.

Hey, all you people, stop harassing him.

Muclo.

Don't go inside, Muclo.

FIRE!

Martin!

Give him a drink!

Give him the good stuff!

See, the thing that Martin knew that they didn't was, that in a bar fight,

the man with nothing to lose, was the man to bet on.

I'm gonna kill you.

And if your men try to stop me, I'll fucking kill them too.

A wise man once said, fear the hanged man, because he's dead already.

A wise man

once said, fear the hanged man, because he's dead already.

Martin Tillman is still alive.

He walked in Valentine's bar with just a machete.

Killed everyone.

They had machine guns, shotguns, Steiner.

He cut them down like they weren't even there.

Like a demon.

The fighter you killed unburied has come back to life.

The fighter you killed unburied has come back to life.

Just find him and kill him again.

Even allowing for the general rule of exaggeration.

I'd say we have a problem on our hands.

Are you afraid, Steiner?

You're getting old.

Let's just say I'm not taking any chances.

I'll kill anyone I find to be a threat.

But they can't do anything to us.

What can he do to us?

He'll go after our money.

That's where I was struck first.

Our money is at my safe.

At the villa.

I have to stay here.

There's a full squad there.

They're armed.

You'll be fine.

I'm deeply sorry.

I'm not going.

I am not going.

Take Constantin.

He'll take care of you.

Constantin.

I want you to take this arm.

You have said that many times.

Yes, like that.

Louis XIII's cognac.

Nearly a century old.

An excellent choice for this occasion.

He didn't have to be out of his mind to come here.

If he does, I'll kill him.

Then I'll buy dinner as an apology for this inconvenience.

I knew it was a bad idea.

I knew it!

Constantin, look at me!

He's looking at you!

You come with me!

Three, here!

Two, there!

What are you looking at?

Put it on the door!

Come on!

There is enough for both of us.

Look.

We can get out of this.

Look.

I've been prepped to die so many times in my life.

This is a manner so repugnant.

Please... an American.

No, adorable little ones.

We

must free ourselves now.

I'm just a child.

A man should go before his maker, properly attired.

Today we're mobilizing an entire strike force

to keep one man from entering a police station.

Consider him deceased, my friend.

Let's go.

What would you think of me?

For as long as he could remember Martin had been fighting.

Whether it was harassing the English, hunting the

Viet Minh, or even knocking fellas down for money.

Martin had fought for many things.

But never for revenge.

Revenge was pure, it was simple.

And it would allow almost any means to achieve its end.

No matter how ruthless.

Now it wasn't as though Martin had any premonition or innate strategic knowledge.

He just figured it wasn't a good plan to go through the front door.

Ready!

It's not that easy.

Go!

Go!

Go!

Move in there!

Move in there!

Minh!

Go!

Why was they here?

Pussies.

Take it!

Look at this face.

Look into my eyes.

Do you think I've never faced death before?

Better men than you have tried.

I will not.

I will not allow you the satisfaction.

You're a scum that got lucky for a day or two.

I am an aristocrat.

I am an aristocrat.

I am an aristocrat.

You're the

biggest scum I could find.

And you were never the man I was looking for.

A little indecency.

What you're saying is... You are a scum.

And I am.

And I am.

And I am.

And I am.

This place was my life.

I supported my parents, my wife, my children.

Now I have nothing.

I can't help you with that.

There's a price on your head, Hirschman.

That's good enough.

Push the button, sir.

Turn the guns around, he's coming!

It's not until you face death that you truly appreciate life.

Wait for him to leave cover, then fire on my command.

What are you doing, Martin?

Fire!

Pierre, go check on the target.

The rest of you be ready to provide covering fire on my command.

Never send a boy to do a man's job.

Where are you going?

He's firing a gun at me.

To the building!

Now!

You want to live or you want to die?

I want to live.

Loosen your appetite for blood, Martin.

Not really.

Not many men are granted the opportunity to duel for their life.

You you

you do this,

Bedfellows like money and power build it together.

Rastignac had lost his money and all of his influence along with it.

With no collateral, he was just another no-account European of innate depravity.

Rastignac's treatment of the locals had

earned him many enemies amongst the natives.

Word had spread of Martin's quest to avenge the local girl, earning him great sympathy.

With Rastignac's soldiers gone, his fortune lost.

It would be man against man, just the way Martin wanted it.

The Mazadao's relationship with the bull is closer than with any woman.

They both know that only one of them will leave the ring alive.

You warned Martin.

I'm not running anymore.

It's empty.

Let's do this like gentlemen.

My name is Jean-Pierre Rastignac.

I have been known by many names.

But the one with which I most commonly associate is the Executioner.

I face you as an equal.

With the exception of this blade, we're quite fairly matched.

Watch it.

A little pause.

.. and we are back.

A little pause... and we are back.

A little pause.

and we are back.

Watch me.

Dearest Isabel, I trust you're well.

I'm sorry I have not been in touch.

I deeply, profoundly loved your mother.

And I'm sure what you would really wish for me to say is that I love you too.

It's been some time, Martin.

We can make the railroad in Saigon by 4 p .m.

Take the train to the airport.

We can be in London in two days where you'll stand trial for murder.

But you'll probably kill me first.

So?

What?

You can work for me.

Thank you.

I've been ordered to assemble a team of local... local operatives.

Men with your skills are commodity tillmen.

Indochina is changing.

And so must we.

Christ never gave him much, but a god-awful talent for carnage and death.

There was no need for him to deny it now.

He was a killer.

And that's all there was to it.

And so was born...

the legend.

So what about the