Original subtitles

SIMON: Destiny chooses some men to win at everything.

At life, at the races, to have all the best girls,

to grow roses in December. But for men like Horace Spode,

fate has chosen another path.

I can't fault that.

Excellent,

but we'd expect nothing else from the notorious Simon Templar.

Comments?

Well?

We don't deny Templar did all he was asked. But?

We're not sure of him, sir. It's his manner. It's not serious.

He's...he's frivolous.

Frivolous? Aye. There's no dedication in the man.

I agree.

Nevertheless, we accept him.

Send in Mr Templar, please.

You've got a week to knock him into shape.

A pleasure!

Roper. Jonathan Roper.

How do you do? A glass of port, Mr Templar?

That's...uncommonly civil of you.

Waterford.

An unusual design. A speciality made for George I.

You'll enjoy the wine, too.

I'm sure I will.

Thank you.

Taylor, 12. One of my favourites. Aye...

but do you know a weapon like you know that stuff?

Mauser 40-42.

Unusual thing to be carrying in your pocket.

I prefer the...1944 version.

There's less tendency to drag left.

Satisfied, Leander? We'll see.

Tell me, Templar, is Spode the first man you've ever killed?

There have been other regrettable occasions. Regrettable?

In a way of speaking, Leander, less crude than your own.

You gave it a nice professional touch.

Thank you.

No pangs of guilt?

No qualms?

About a stranger? It happens, with some men.

The kind we're not interested in.

Then I've passed, have I?

Finish your port, Templar.

I'll show you around.

Haa!

You name it, we've got it. You want a French officer? Jacques.

A British naval rating? Harry Collins.

A Japanese major.

An American colonel. Impressed?

Baffled. You have offered me a great deal of money.

Now you'd like to know what you've got to do to earn it?

Haa!

This is our third year of operation.

As a health farm? How do you keep out legitimate customers?

We're always full. I simply turn them away.

This is a very exclusive health farm.

So I see.

No fat men allowed.

We find it a convenient cover for our...other activities.

Which are?

We are a small but highly trained mercenary army, Mr Templar.

Our guns are for hire.

And you were able to accept my grades?Yes, luckily for you.

I didn't ask to join.

Nobody asks. We select.

And if your recruits don't come up to the mark?

We can't afford publicity.

Leander...disposes of our dropouts.

Somehow, I doubt they will include you.

Although there might be a touch too much personal initiative.

You have my word, I shall stick to the house rules.

Good. Well, time's short.

I've already told Leander he has seven days

to bring you up to scratch.

Come along, then. Come on, you can't let the new man beat you.

Get on with you. Come on, now!

Come on, now, Mason.

Go on with you!

For six weeks now, I've put you through the best training there is.

At the end of it, you make a fool of me in front of Templar!

It's kill or cure, Mason, you understand?

Yes, yes. Go on, then. Run!

Good morning.

There's a pub a couple of miles up the road.

See how fast you can make it.

The debonair Simon Templar...

Dehydrated by unaccustomed exercise. ..is in bad need of a drink.

It's funny you should say that.

An operation is scheduled in about a week.

What sort of operation? I won't know until the day.

Cheers.

The Major wants a full report.

Later. Can you make it tonight?

Well, it's against the school rules...

but for you, I'll do my best.

Close up there! Stay together!

Close up!

I think I'm sick. I need a doctor.

You made a fool of me in front of Templar.

I'm sick, I tell you! And I tell you you're a dropout, Mason.

Right, Mason.

I'll give you one more chance.

You say you're not a dropout?

Prove it!

50 times.

With your rucksack on.

One...

One, two.

Two, three.

Three, four.

Four, five. Why don't you stop him?

Why don't you?

Six, six.

Seven, seven. I have your permission?

Eight.

Nine, nine. Ten.

Templar, he's a hard man.

On himself, as well. Leander!

Sir. That'll do.

All right, Mason.

Get showered. Take his rucksack. Sir.

One hundred, Leander.

Sir.

One, one.

Two, two.

Three, three.

Just in case you get the idea that his bark is worse than his bite.

Would you like to stay and watch him?

Not particularly. He'll do it, you know.

Seven, seven.

Eight, eight.

Doglike devotion to duty.

Nine. Ten. Ten.

As long as you keep him on a short leash.

You have a taste for the good life, Templar.

Thanks. Who doesn't?

Leander. Cable. They don't work for the money.

Born subordinates.

Ah, you agree!

You agree that the world is divided.

Between the shepherds and the flock?

If you like.

Or between those who lead and those who follow.

It's an idea to juggle with.

It's the idea. Once you've grasped that,

once you've freed yourself from this democratic garbage,

then you can act. If you are a leader.

Three years ago, I made the break.

With society? The law?

With everything, but most of all,

with the unworkable idea that men are equal in anything.

Democracy is devoted to the protection of the weak.

Numbers against quality.

I shall be watching you, Templar, closely.

I think we speak the same language.

If we do, you have a future with this organisation.

I'm glad to hear that. Why?

Well, because in your organisation,

there seems to be no such thing as a past.

I've been in British Intelligence for 17 years

and this beats everything.

A private army!

Why? What for?

It's baffling.

Did you guess at anything from the type of training?

Only that we're doing a job in a week.

What sort of a job? Roper hasn't said.

You say they're recruited from different countries?

America, France, Japan... You name it.

Come in.

Mr Spode.

No ill effects, I trust? None.

So pleased you managed to keep all the shots

in the area of the bulletproofing.

Spode has some ideas.

Tell him.

Craddock. George Anthony Craddock.

Head of the European desk for Chinese espionage.

The man in charge of all Chinese agents in Western Europe.

Normally stays in Peking,

but last week he slipped over to Hong Kong. Has a girl there.

And you grabbed him? We waited ten years for the chance.

He's got more information in his little finger

than a sackful of Chinese agents.

We're bringing him back for interrogation.

He'll take time to break.

Maybe as much as a month, but when he does...

The floodgates open.

We could have a complete list of every ITT.

ITT? Information Transfer Techniques.

Dead letterboxes, that sort of thing.

Every ITT and every European contact the Chinese have.

So you can see the importance of George Anthony Craddock.

To the Chinese, sure. They want him back.

So we work on the basis that they are Roper's current paymasters.

Yes, Spode.

We test the hypothesis that their intention is to rescue Craddock

and return him to Peking.

Since you know the location of Roper's army,

why don't you march a commando company against them tonight?

We've thought of that,

but there are too many unanswered questions.

Do they have other centres of operation?

Is Roper really their boss?

It would be fatal to cut off a tentacle and leave the octopus.

We're relying on you, Simon.

Look!

Our new boy? I wonder.

Shall we report him?

Not until we're 100% sure.

Roper likes him. We'll check his room.

Listen!

Templar?

Suppose we wait and see.

Well, take care.

Why?

Your type's one in a hundred.

Oh? And what is my type?

Brash, overconfident, mercenary.

The perfect recruit for Roper's outfit.

We wouldn't find another in a hurry.

Don't you think of anything but your job?

Sure. The job above mine. I intend to get it.

Good night.

Is it Templar?

I don't know. It could be.

Come on.

You all right? Yeah...

What's his room number?

Number eight. Ground floor. Come on.

What is it, Leander?

Are you drunk, or something?

Er...a mistake, I guess. Aye.

Well, what about the light?

Nervous?

Relieved. He should be safe here.

How long do you think it'll take to break him down?

I tried to form an estimate at our first meeting. Difficult?

He's a trained agent.

Even so, there are ways.

Don't misunderstand me, my dear.

I'm a civil servant.

I don't overstep departmental regulations.

Delivery of the prisoner, sir.

Thank you, Captain. Put him in my office.

Very good, sir. All right, this way.

You don't think you'll do any good, do you, Spode?

You'll crack within three weeks, Craddock.

You'll talk! You'll beg me to listen.

Leave a man on the door, Captain.

Cigarette?

I am familiar with interrogation techniques.

A little kindness, then the harsh treatment.

Sometimes it works.

Not with George Anthony Craddock? No.

Light?

You know what I want.

ITTs, names of agents in the West. I know.

Then why not make it easy for yourself? Easy for you, you mean.

No, I'm not making it easy, Spode,

because I think, if anything, time is on my side.

Nobody told me just how much Scotch it takes

to make a Highlander communicative. But you confirmed the information?

The truck leaves the fusiliers' depot tonight,

a three tonner driven by one man.

And the load? Just what you wanted.

Good. You may go.

There's something that Leander and I wanted to say.

Allow me one guess. About Templar?

Yeah. Don't bother. He's a good man.

Better than us? We've been with you from the start.

And you'll stay to the end. Sure.

We...we just don't want Templar brought in over our heads.

This is a military formation, Cable, not a labour union!

The rewards are greater than in any other army

and the penalties for mutiny precisely the same.

Tell your friend.

Stop it.

Right, gather round.

Move it, Templar.

Right. Now, you know what this is?

A penknife? Don't be frivolous, Templar.

This is a Scottish skiandhu... for close combat.

One of the finest little weapons ever invented.

It may not look much...

..but you can feel it in your guts.

You. I want you to come at me.

I want you to come at me hard...

..using that.

When I say come at me, I mean come at me.

Leander, your slip's showing.

How was that? Better?

Very much better.

Leander.

Sir. Get them back to work.

Right, what are you lot grinning at?

Get back to work!

I've been watching you work the last couple of days.

I like what I see.

I'm putting you in charge of a job tonight.

What sort of job?

Well, let's just call it a necessary preliminary skirmish.

Oh, and Templar...

I like to see Leander put in his place occasionally.

But don't get carried away, will you?

I could become very concerned.

POLICE RADIO: Fox Easy, over.

Fox Easy. OK, over.

Fox Easy. Approaching now. Out.

What's going on?

Be quiet and cooperative and nobody'll get hurt.

And if I don't?

You'd kill a man for the load I'm carrying?

I don't believe it!

Some things just have to be done, laddie. Get out.

Turn round and face the truck. Hands behind your back.

No violence! Why?

Because I'm in charge on Roper's authority. Now snap it up.

I'll take care of it.

It's Roper.

I thought this was my night?

I thought I'd check you'd had no trouble.

With the haul or...your boys?

They'll learn to love you. I can hardly wait.

Let's look at the haul.

Aren't they beautiful? East Fife Fusiliers.

I've always admired the swing of the kilt.

So you grabbed yourself a truckload?

All right, take it away.

Put him in the back, Leander. Tie his feet.

Carry on.

Templar!

What's the boss have to say? This and that.

Just small talk, huh?

That's right. Small talk. Like a couple of old friends.

We get along. As friends or...partners?

All right. Get them moving, Leander.

What is this, a union meeting? Come on, Leander, get moving!

Take the front, Cable. I'll bring up the rear.

Good evening.

I guess I got you out of bed.

Where's Spode? In the parlour.

Not er... A question of decorum.

Yes, I should think so. A man of his age. Shall we join him?

Where did you leave him?

Well, he was sitting right here, in this chair, smoking his pipe.

Maybe he took off. He didn't know for sure I was coming.

What was that?

Haven't you ever heard a man snore before?

Make yourself at home, Mr Spode.

A man of my age must look after himself.

Not as young as I was.

I...I don't suppose I could have a cup of coffee, could I?

Any news? Oh, we did the job tonight, as planned.

What was it? Hijacked an army lorry carrying kilts.

20 East Fife Fusilier kilts.

Kilts? How very odd.

What do you make of it?

I could make more of it if I knew what special duties

these Fife Fusiliers were carrying out in the next day or two.

Craddock. They relieve the guard on Craddock tomorrow.

And the correct regimental kilt is the only item of uniform

you can't get from a theatrical costumier.

You have your answer, Mr Spode.

Are you prepared to go through with this?

If that's what Major Carter wants.

The idea is to surround the place and take Roper's people redhanded.

Good. Well, I'll get back to the health farm...

..and leave you to make the arrangements.

Make yourself at home.

I knew it, Templar. And Leander knew it, too.

Yes, you're a couple of bright boys. I always said so.

You don't talk your way out of this one.

You could be right. We've probably bitten off more than we can chew.

Aah!

Get the gun!

Oh. Fair shot.

Don't worry about the body. I'll take care of that.

Are you an undertaker, too?

Quick march! Left, right, left, right!

Left...

Squad...

halt!

Right turn.

Stand at...ease!

Not bad.

Stand easy. Mr Roper, sir.

Well? We've er...found the bike, but there's no sign of Cable.

Where was the bike? On a bridge, about two miles away.

The front wheels were jammed into the railings.

So he could have gone right over the top in the river?

Aye, he could.

Do we go ahead, sir?

Why not?

Girls, final check, please.

Right, this is the final inspection.

For this little exercise you need to look as Scots as haggis.

Carry on, Leander. Sir.

Do your button up.

Are you satisfied with all details?

Any Highland regiment would be proud of them, sir.

There'll be no room for mistakes.

You can rely on me.

These two men, they know their job? All briefed, sir.

These are the guards to the prisoner.

Any questions? No, sir.

I have a question.

Try me.

We all know the method. What's the objective?

You'll know that too, soon enough.

You're a realist, Craddock. Choose.

I chose ten years ago. In a man's life,

there's room for only one choice like that.

On the 17th January, you dispatched two agents to Paris.

A French couple. Who were they?

Napoleon and Josephine. Their code names?

Mr Spode!

Information Transfer points?

Nothing doing. Your representative in Washington!

Details! I must have details!

I'll give you details, Spode.

Listen. Ten years ago I did your job.

A bit higher up the ladder, but the same sort of job.

I lived on �2,000 a year and haggled for �10 worth of expenses.

And then you threw it all over for Peking.

Where I lived like a king. Anything I wanted.

Cars, girls, good food, the best French wine.

Why, look at this office, Spode.

Mine's a palace by comparison.

You were going to give details. You've just had them.

You lived high on the hog. So? So I don't forget it.

As I told you, a man can only choose once.

I've chosen. I'm not going back on it.

No cooperation? Well, voluntary, no.

I'll crack in the end.

Every man does, when the real treatment starts.

But not until agents have been replaced? Exactly.

Not until it's too late to be of any use to you. You're a loser, Spode.

It's in your stars.

Would you like to get back to work, Mr Spode?

It's a diversion. Turn left.

They just diverted the genuine Fusilier guard. Good.

Roper's men passing the diversion now.

Should give them a clear half hour at the house.

Everything's ready here. Have you informed Captain Yates?

No, but I want him to play it for real.

The whole house is surrounded. Good. Over and out.

Move over.

What is it, Leander?

Well, well. The young lady who runs the pub.

She had us under observation at the diversion. Had she?

She was in radio contact with someone. That's worse.

What do you think, Templar?

At this stage, we have no choice. I say we go ahead.

Decisive. Put her in the back of the truck.

Take over, driver.

Get a move on!

B Company, First Battalion East Fife Fusiliers reporting for guard duty.

12 men and me. Tombs.

Yates.

New guard ready for inspection, sir.

Thank you, Corporal. Fall in. Sir.

Trust the East Fife Fusiliers to be regimental about it.

We like to take things a bit more casually, I'm afraid.

Oh.Send over two men to take over the prisoner on the guard,

sign here and he's all yours.

Corporal! Mason and Gregson up to the house

to relieve the guard on the prisoner.

Sir. Mason, Gregson, up to the house.

Corporal. At the double!

Piper!

Sergeant!

Retiring guard ready for inspection, sir!

Corporal!

Advance guard ready for inspection, sir.

The skiandhu is on the wrong leg, Captain.

Your chaps wear them on the left, surely?

You're mistaken.

Sergeant, arrest these men. They're impostors!

Make for the house. I'll cover you.

Kate... You all right?

Yeah.

Find Craddock.

Check on Craddock.

Who are you? I'll explain later.

On your feet.

You know, I don't believe you.

I think your gun is like mine.

Empty. Just keep them like that.

You care to put it to the test?

I might.

Uh-uh. Later. Just now, I'd rather talk.

I have time.

Upstairs, there's half a million dollars.

All we have to do is take it.

No deal. Oh, come now, Templar.

Think what you're turning down.

I know. A lifelong partnership with Jonathan Roper.

I'm sorry. Pity. We would have made a good team.

Why don't you save it till the violins arrive?

I still bet that gun's empty.

You could lose more than money with that bet.I don't think so.

I'd have been dead before now.

You see? You'd have lost the bet.

I don't think I will a second time, though.

Where's Craddock? Simon, he's gone.

Gone? What's the betting he isn't with Spode?

I decided they weren't going to put me out to grass...with nothing.

You'd have your pension.

No need for that now, Mr Craddock. I succeeded where Roper failed.

Your Chinese friends ought to pay well for the service.

Spode, look!

This is quite an assumption.

I don't think so. Where are the army units

that Spode was supposed to be calling up?

You may be right, but he seemed such an inoffensive little man.

When he shot Cable?

He's a loner. That makes him something special.

You mean, you should know?

Faster, Spode. Faster!

Foot's through the floorboards already.

I can't hold it!

I can't hold it!

Mr Craddock and Mr Spode.

Luckily a kilt isn't easy to disguise.

The last of Roper's men was picked up an hour ago.

Good. And the health farm?

Surrounded by local police.

I took the liberty of arranging it

in the absence of orders from Mr Spode.

Hmm.

Well, I shall miss Spode.

I won't deny he was an effective operator until this last business.

I don't suppose...

No, no.

I was about to say that the Department

was most impressed with your efforts.

That's very nice of you to say so, Major.

If you should care to make a home with us,

well, Spode's chair is empty.

Well, I'm touched, but I do think you're overlooking

the most likely candidate for the post.

Miss Kate...er... Barnaby.

Miss Barnaby?

Yes!