All language subtitles for The Man From U.N.C.L.E. S02E04 The Foxes and Hounds Affair.eng

If this invention of yours
proves itself, Monsieur Merlin...

our technicians will be using it for
something much more than a magic act.

Yes, that may be.

But still, my
audiences will miss it.

And now, Monsieur Kuryakin, if you
will stand here and think of a secret.

Some little secret which,
perhaps, only you know.

Aha. Mademoiselle,
it's about time.

Pardon, monsieur. This
is the substitute assistant.

My regular one, she's
run off somewhere.

I don't know where.

You can memorize
the routine, eh?

I think so, Mr. Merlin.

I just, well... Uh...

They didn't tell me that...

Well, I mean, the
costume... Uh...

You see, I'm not too acquainted
with show business really.

That's enough.

Tonight, you're going to
work with a great magician.

Tomorrow, you can
be a tourist again.

Now you go and you study
and do what you must do. Huh?

Pardon, monsieur. Now to
continue with the demonstration.

You think of something
very, very secret.

You think of a man.

A Monsieur Solo, who is on
vacation while you must work.

You think of a city. Kiev.

- When you were a little boy...
- That's enough.

It's quite convincing.
Thank you.

Uh-huh. Yeah.

Tonight, after tonight, the
translator shall belong to U.N.C.L.E...

and we'll purchase a little
champagne to seal the bargain, eh?

And now, for the last
time on any stage...

I despise gimmicks, gentlemen...

and I shall have
little patience...

with an imitation mentalist.

What is it called again,
this device of his?

Ladies and gentlemen, the
Electronic Thought Translator.

Well, finally.

The magic moment
of truth has arrived.

Into whose mind will he delve?

Whose private thoughts...

will the Magnificent
Merlin now invade?

Round and round she
goes, and where she stops...

You, sir.

Victor Marton.

Ah.

You are thinking,
sir, right now...

Monsieur. You have such
thoughts about me, monsieur?

No.

Mr. Kuryakin, that
gentleman over there.

He is thinking he
will steal my machine.

And then...

And then, monsieur,
he will kill me.

Fantastic.

You were right, gentlemen.

Thrush must have that device.

Farewell to subtlety, gentlemen.

Allez.

Oops.

Come on.

Hey, wait a minute.
Where am I going?

I didn't do anything.

Innocence is not a
bulletproof commodity.

Let me go.

Who are those men?
What's happening?

Close, Mr. Kuryakin. Very close.

Good to see you
again, by the way.

Have your men cover each end of the
street and then work in towards the center.

I'll be waiting in
my automobile.

My instinctive dislike
for that young man...

is growing into a sincere
and honest hatred.

Obviously, his
companion has the device.

And just as obviously, he will take it
to U.N.C.L.E.'s laboratory in New York.

Place me on the fastest jet.

And alert our
operatives in New York.

Hello? Mama?

This is Mimi.

Hey...

Hey, Mama, I think
I'm gonna come home.

No, I didn't get married, Mama.

I just wanna come home.

I changed my mind
about Europe, Mama.

Personally, I'm certain Cantrell
got the translator away from Thrush.

- He was up on the roof while I was...
- Uh...

The magician's
assistant. The young lady.

An American girl working her way around
Europe, apparently seeing the sights.

Follow-up reported
that she took a sedative,

called her mother
here in New York...

and then bought a plane
ticket for the first plane home.

Emergency Blue, this is 41. Direct
to Number One, Section One, please.

Mr. Cantrell, where are you? Have
you still got the Electronic Translator?

Still got it, sir.

On a commercial airliner
over the Atlantic somewhere.

- Illya get back okay?
- Yes.

But we're still anxiously awaiting
Merlin's invention and yourself.

- Where will you be landing?
- Canada.

Figured the New York airports might
be crawling with little Thrush creatures.

Good man. When you get there,
charter a plane into New York.

We'll try and keep those
nasties off your back if we can.

Right, sir. I'll check
in from Canada. Out.

If I know Victor
Marton, and I do...

he'll be here in New
York to get at Cantrell...

long before Cantrell has an
opportunity to deliver that device to us.

The young lady.

She took the first
plane home, you say?

Yes.

Verify the time of her
arrival in New York.

May I ask why, sir?

Well, certainly, she
knows nothing about...

Well, we must keep
Thrush away from Cantrell.

If one of our men were
to meet that girl's plane...

Thrush might believe it was she
who was bringing in the translator...

and stop looking for Cantrell.

Well, Mr. Kuryakin?

Whoever does meet
that plane will have to be...

somebody Marton knows
is an U.N.C.L.E. agent.

Me, for instance.

No. Mr. Solo, I think.

Victor Marton will have good
reason to recall his face...

after their encounter
in Hong Kong last year.

But Napoleon knows
nothing about this affair.

- As a matter of fact, he's on vacation.
- Exactly.

If he doesn't know what he's doing,
he won't have anything to talk about...

in the event of his being
waylaid by our Thrush friends.

Besides, it won't hurt Mr. Solo
to be ignorant once in his life.

Good for the humility.

Morning.

What's the matter?
Didn't we pay our rent?

Hey, perhaps you'll tell
me: What is it you want?

What I want is to
get into my office.

- Trouble?
- If you wanna audition for Hollywood...

you're in the wrong place.

That's dressing room,
this is a pressing machine.

Oh, I...

I beg your pardon.

Actually, I was just chasing
around after my pet leprechaun.

No offense.

Hey.

Don't slam the door.

Illya.

Merlin, your code
number is seven.

- My what is who?
- Shh.

Hey, you. You call for a cab?

Oh, how do I
know? I probably did.

Must've been me.
This one's too cheap.

Merlin, Code Seven? Thank you.

- Do I know where I wanna go?
- To the airport, naturally.

How many times do I have to
tell you? To the airport, and hurry.

Well, he's off and running.

My dear, your
nose is shiny again.

Right about there.

ILLYA: That's got it.

You're reasonably pretty again.

Well?

I see.

And you heard the word Merlin?

Then the man in the
taxicab's our man.

We'll be at the airport as
soon as Mr. Marton joins us.

Uh-huh.

You sure I didn't catch
this cold from you?

I only wish you
had, Miss Belmont.

For heaven's sake.

Thrush is only giving out one
promotion in the western area this year...

and I want it.

A woman has a hard enough
time carving out a place for herself...

in this business world.

And I don't need that continental
masterpiece Victor Marton...

coming over here
to steal my thunder.

What?

How pleasant, Miss Belmont,
to hear your dulcet tones again.

Hey, fella. Where do you think
you're going without paying me?

That's 3.50 you owe for
that haul from downtown.

My, my. Is it really?

I'll tell you, I'd like you to
piddle on back to my U.N.C.L.E.

Tell him if he wants me to
pay my own transportation...

For a very bumpy ride, I might add.
- -he better raise my salary a little.

Now get thee going, varlet.

Announcing the arrival...

of Flight 26 from Paris, Gate 8.

Flight 26 from Paris
now arriving, Gate 8.

The passenger
list, Miss Belmont.

Whose name are you
expecting to find, my dear?

This one, perhaps.
Mimi Doolittle.

She was Merlin's last
assistant, wasn't she?

Mmm. But only for
one night, my dear.

Surely, U.N.C.L.E.
is not making use of...

Come now, Marton.

Such idealism scarcely
becomes a man of your years.

Will Mimi Doolittle's Uncle
Seven please collect her luggage...

from the baggage counter?

Will Mimi Doolittle's Uncle
Seven please pick up her luggage...

from the baggage counter?

Will Mimi Doolittle's Uncle
Seven please pick up her luggage...

from the baggage counter?

Uncle.

Seven. Code Seven?

Well, alrighty.

- Where can I contact the local police?
- One minute, huh?

Mama. WOMAN: Excuse me.

Mimi. Oh-ho-ho.

Darling, you look wonderful.

Did you meet anybody?
Did you meet a fella, huh?

No. I don't know what
makes you think that, Mama.

I went to see Europe,
not to catch a husband.

Announcing the arrival of Red
Carpet Flight 9 from Rome...

Gate 12.

Red Carpet Flight 9 from Rome...

now arriving at Gate 12.

Oops.

That's the guy right there.

I told him 3.50, he gives
me a smile and disappears.

You riding this man's
cab without paying?

Well, I told him it
was a very bumpy ride.

Well, I don't wanna make any trouble.
If you cough up with the 3.50, it's...

My luggage.

Oh. Thank you so much.

How could you do that? I mean, why don't
you go steal things from some rich old man?

Wait a minute, miss. This
man swung with your suitcases?

Give me those, you...

Right off the luggage rack.

Well, that does it.
Out with you, Raffles.

You can follow us
to the station, miss...

and identify your property
when you file charges.

Have our little plans gone
askew, Miss Belmont?

Those suitcases must
not get to the police station.

Yes, ma'am.

Gentlemen, if you'll just
let me show you my identi...

Just take it a little easy
on the suit, huh, boys?

Oh, boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.

You see, I am Napoleon
Solo. I work for the U.N.C...

Yeah...

You can just turn that little
knob there to channel D.

Let me complete a sentence.
I think we'll clear this thing up.

Local weather at the
airport, Sunny, 68 degrees.

Try channel F, huh?

Come on! Come on!

Napoleon, Waterloo is upon you.

- Move.
- Ahem.

Oh, no. Not that one, my dear.

We've arranged a sort of
police escort for poor Napoleon.

Good. I just had
contact with Cantrell.

He's chartering a private plane.

His ETA from Canada is 9:00.
Wadsworth Field, New Jersey.

Nine o'clock, Wadsworth
Field, New Jersey.

If Thrush does manage to get to Napoleon
and finds out that he's just a decoy...

they're going to make a
shish kebab out of him.

I think I'd better tag along behind...
- Negative.

If that happens, Thrush
may turn on the girl.

It's your job to keep
an eye on her, not Solo.

I'm sorry. Solo will
have to fend for himself.

Would you look at that now?

I'll keep an eye
on this one, Bernie.

All right, all right. Break
it up now. Break it up.

Well?

Where is it?

The girl brought it
in. We know she did.

We saw Solo pick up
her luggage. Where's he?

Ah!

What horrible taste.

He's over there.

He'll tell us.

And if he won't, that
disgracefully-dressed young girl will.

- Go get her.
- One moment, little papillon.

My dear, if your female intuition
were not being put to shame...

by your female stubbornness...

- you would deduce that Solo here...
- Now see here, Marton...

is but a decoy purposely
dangled in our paths...

and that the young lady has
not the foggiest thing to do with it.

- And...
- Go and get her.

Go, little man. Go.

Will you deliver Mr. Solo
here to the embalming room?

So, what did the police people say?
How do they explain such a thing?

He said as soon as they find their police
car, they'll probably find my luggage too.

I don't know.

Boy...

Boy, that last night in
Europe was really something.

All those men, and the guns,
and the shooting and things.

So, what about that
young man? The dentist?

You've been home
two hours already.

You shouldn't call and wish
him a hello after all these weeks?

Mama, I think I'm
gonna go to Tahiti next.

I just have to save
up for a few months...

I'll get it.

Tahiti?

You just got home.

You'll stay home a
little while, my gypsy.

And you call that nice young
dentist and wish him a hello, huh?

Yes?

Get out of here, quickly.

The Electronic
Thought Translator.

Where is the Electronic
Thought Translator?

I told you before...

I never heard of
this thingamajig...

and I never wanna hear of it.

And I don't like you very much,
and I wish you'd go away...

because you're boring to me.

Hmm.

Well, it does seem that if
Mr. Solo knew anything...

that the drug would've helped
him to remember it by now.

They'll be here with the girl any minute,
and the other U.N.C.L.E. agent they nailed.

I'll get something
out of one of them.

Nobody's going to foul
up my operation, Marton.

Miss Belmont, I
have been patient.

I have withstood your
inflammatory rudeness.

I have pointedly ignored your...

whatever it is that
frustrated women become.

But I must now say that if you expect
to achieve the Thrush promotion...

by sticking those
silly needles into...

Expect it?

- Why, you pompous facelifted boulevardier!
- Now, Madam...

I am earning this promotion.

You came flapping across
the ocean with your longevity...

and your masculine
superiority, and I don't like it.

I've worked too hard.

And you soon may be working
equally as hard, lovely lady...

over a hot stove in the kitchen
of some lonely Thrush outpost...

making chicken soup
for our sick and wounded.

Victor Marton to see
Alexander Waverly, please.

Oh, come now, my friend.
Do you announce me...

or do I march in there and
pull that silly little knob? Hmm?

Hmm.

I am not the Trojan Horse,
gentlemen. I assure you.

- Alexander.
- Victor.

- Quite a while.
- And too long.

Too long without an Alexander
Waverly to test my mettle against.

Well, I would say that
any top Thrush official...

who voluntarily saunters into
these offices for an afternoon visit...

is putting his mettle to
quite a drastic test indeed.

Uh-huh. Then I am not to
be searched and poked...

for diabolical weapons?

You're already been
searched, Victor.

Seven different types of photographs
and a spectrogram the moment you entered.

Cigarette lighter, pocket change,
one fountain pen. All normal.

- There. You see, Alexander? I came...
- Except...

Your handkerchief, Mr. Marton.

Oh. Lovely and thorough.

And very annoying. Ah!

Careful, young
man. It is lethal.

Plastic explosive, Victor?

Good heavens. We
stopped using that ages ago.

Oh... Oh.

Oh.

Now, I...

I presume you came
to chat about the...

You first, Mr. Kuryakin.

To give the lady a
preview of her performance.

What do you mean by that?

Please, I don't know
anything about anything.

Penathol Plus.

Any programming of your mind will
be of no value whatsoever in about...

In about 45 seconds. Hmm.

He's the thief that
stole my luggage.

And he's the one that shot
at everybody in Europe.

But I didn't do anything.

I'm not horrible like them.

You're horrible to me,
child. And you're next.

Next? Next for what?

Merlin. Code Seven.
You're marvelous.

Well, how was I to know you'd
be so miserable at your job?

As a matter of fact...

As a...

Napoleon, I do not feel well.

- Fight it, boy. Fight it.
- I will.

Absolute... Abso...

Oh, brother.

Name and U.N.C.L.E. designation?

Kuryakin.

Section Two, Number
Two. Enforcement.

The Electronic
Thought Translator.

Where is it?

Where is it?

Fight it, Illya.

Do something.

Think of girls.

Don't say anything.

Save your breath, handsome.

You've still got a
lot of gasping to do.

Have you seen the Thought Translator
work, Alexander? It's marvelous.

If I told you that, you'd know whether
or not it was already here, wouldn't you?

One thing I do know, my friend,
is that my Thrush compatriots...

are at this very moment, doing
some extremely unpleasant things...

to one young innocent girl
and two of your best agents.

That's true, Alexander.

Of course it is. You wouldn't
have been traipsing in here...

without the bargaining
power to get you out again.

Innocent girl, you say?

If that's so, why are you
people bothering with her?

Don't touch that,
Victor. You'll blow us up.

Oh, I'm so sorry, Alexander.

But unfortunately, you see, my
co-workers do not share my belief...

that this fancy footwork of
U.N.C.L.E. today is merely...

a cloud cover to shield the arrival
of the invention by another route.

No, they believe that...

Well, that the girl brought in the
invention, and that Solo was her contact.

But I know you, Alexander.

Well, then you'll know that I bore
easily, so shall we get on with it?

All right.

In return for your delivering me
the Electronic Thought Translator...

I will return back to you
one innocent young lady...

and two slightly-used
U.N.C.L.E. agents.

Would you be good enough to
stop pressing my buttons, Victor?

These men have other
work to do. Go away.

No, wait.

To deliver the translator into
Thrush hands is asking me...

to open up a veritable
Pandora's box, isn't it?

You flatter me, Alexander, but
that need not be a certainty, no.

You can always
try to take it back.

But if I do not return with an
understanding between us...

the deaths of those three young
people will be a certainty, my friend.

A chartered plane, you say.

Where and at what time
will Cantrell's plane land?

Nine o'clock tonight.
Wadsworth Field.

Nine o'clock.

Aha.

Johnson. Johnson.

No need worrying
about Pollyanna here.

Their agent Cantrell has charted a
plane to arrive at Wadsworth Field...

at 9:00 tonight.

That gives us plenty of time.

Wonderful. Then as soon as Mr. Marton gets
here, we could all turn around and go...

Mr. Marton?

As soon as Marton
gets here, keep him here.

Thrush brotherhood
notwithstanding, there's only one way...

to avoid his lousing
up my opportunity.

And what about our
U.N.C.L.E. prisoners?

I'm taking a unit to
detour that plane.

As soon as you hear
the translator is ours...

you may give them a
firsthand demonstration...

of how a mortuary functions.

All right, I can understand about you
guys and your U.N.C.L.E. and everything.

But why me?

All I ever did was take a one-night
job as a magician's assistant.

I was a trifle sad to
learn that Miss Belmont

had gone after the
Thought Translator...

by herself in my absence.

If she does retrieve it, you see, I shall
no longer need you nice young people...

alive for bargaining
with Mr. Waverly.

Well, I'd say we're pretty much
in the same boat, Mr. Marton.

If what I overheard is correct,
your charming Miss Belmont...

may be successful in her
own right and not need you.

- Indeed?
- Indeed.

As a matter of fact, if you get
your hands on the translator...

I would suggest that you
read Ms. Belmont's mind...

and find out how she plans to
remove you as her competition.

Your imaginative ramblings exceed
the bounds of good taste, Mr. Solo.

Mimi, through no fault of yours,
there are a group of people...

that are rather
intent on killing us.

Now, there's a young
man outside. A guard.

And I'd like you
to get his attention.

I want you to smile at
him and be very charming...

and very helpless.

Me?

- Me?
- Yeah.

Mr. Guard?

- Yeah? What do you want?
- Uh, heh...

My name is Mimi.

Heh. What's your name?

Are you kidding?

I guess I'm just not
the enticing type.

You're a woman.

Haven't you had
your basic training?

No, not me. No, I...

I avoid...

I mean, well...

I travel a lot instead.

Mimi, you've got
to get that fellow's...

Well, I don't know how!

Shh!

Don't you understand?

I just don't know how.

Inexperience is not
inability, young lady.

And you can do anything
that you believe you can do.

Uh, heh...

My goodness.

No. Forget your goodness.

Now, I want you to introduce that
guard to the Mimi Doolittle I just met.

Go get them, tiger.

Hmm.

Hey.

Handsome.

Wadsworth Field,
this is RJ 197 Delta.

I'm about five miles
north of pattern.

Request landing instructions
for U.N.C.L.E. priority.

- What's going on?
- Nothing much.

The airfield's closed for the
next half-hour or so. That's all.

Quite unusual, ain't it?

If I ain't learned nothing
else driving this big can...

I certainly learned to
take my time. Ha-ha.

No problem.

Okay, Wadsworth. On my
downwind leg, turning for home.

Now.

Hello, Wadsworth.

Come in, Wadsworth.

Hello, Wadsworth.
Come in, Wadsworth.

Come in, Wadsworth.

Hello, Wadsworth.

RJ 197 Delta, we have an
emergency. Do not attempt to land.

Repeat, emergency
conditions exist.

Do not attempt to land.

We will direct you further.

Something's wrong.

Tell our mobile unit
to track that plane.

You're a snippety
little thing, aren't you?

Get back where you belong.

And stay awake too.

Miss Belmont's on her
way back. She got it.

He called me snippety.

I should think so.
Give me your stockings.

- My what?
- Give me your stockings. Quickly.

What?

Oh.

Another one just went in.

That gal that was with
Marton at the airport.

She carried a suitcase with her.
- I'm on the way.

You called me
incompetent, Marton.

Am I incompetent now?

Mr. Marton, if you please.

And you have been inordinately
lucky, my dear, I will say that. Hmm?

Here, let me show
you how it works. Hmm?

I've seen it demonstrated.

We'll see how they feel at Thrush
Central about my being merely lucky...

in bringing in
this little offering.

I will be making my own report
to Thrush Central, of course.

Napoleon, stop it.

No!

- Help!
- What's the matter with you?

No!

Aah!

Hey, leave that girl alone.

Are you all right?

What do we do now?

Shh.

We could make
one of our daring...

resourceful and nauseatingly
punctual escapes...

if only the door weren't locked.

So Mr. Solo told me true.

Who would have thought
without first reading her thoughts...

that a Thrush official
could turn against her own?

Hold it.

I'm going to get that promotion
without any obstruction.

Take that translator
out to the car.

You, madam, are a
disgrace, even to Thrush.

Put Mr. Marton with
the U.N.C.L.E. prisoners.

And then turn on
the carbon monoxide.

Wait, wait, wait.

No.

Hmm.

You won't be needing it.

Bye. Hmm-hmm.

I'm terribly sorry.

Kill that woman.

Signal our men to close in.

Shall we go, gentlemen?

Our...

My moment of glory is at hand.

Good grief.

What happened?

Well, I...

I believe that Miss
Belmont finally sneezed.

Oh? Huh.

- Gesundheit.
- Mm.

Oh.

- Well, Victor.
- Alexander.

There's nothing much
left to argue over, is there?

No.

No, nothing much
left indeed. Hmm.

There, you see, Alexander.

There are your agents safe and
sound. My word has been my bond.

You said that with a
very straight face, Victor.

Now if you'll be good enough to come along
with me back to U.N.C.L.E. headquarters.

What? But I helped you in this.

Oh, Alexander. You're much
too good a man to do such a thing.

Victor, no one is all good.

Come along, please.

- After you, Alexander.
- No.

Uh... Well...

So it's settled then, Napoleon.

Dinner at my house
on Thursday night.

It would be, I'm
sure, a rare and...

Illya, you're coming on
Friday, and no excuses either.

Him? What do you need him for?

Two of you. Wow, wait till
Mama gets a load of this.