Original subtitles

[GUNFIRE]

Your queen is in danger.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Two more cognac, please.

Two cognac.

Your last South American assignment was very, very unfortunate.

How did you know about that?

I find it difficult to understand why a venture like that should fail so.

What went wrong?

For some unknown reason, everything.

But Mr. Waverly's merely playing chess with him.

Inexplicable. I don't know why.

No.

No, I-- I couldn't do that. I'd never get away with it.

But they'd know that I've--

An experienced foreign affairs troubleshooter like yourself.

One of those things, Mr. Waverly.

All right, all right.

Wait five minutes.

Then send an ambulance.

Your queen, my friend.

And in four more moves, checkmate.

Since you're one of the top-ranking amateur chess players of the world...

...I can understand you're being disturbed.

I'm sorry.

I just don't understand it.

Well, I don't understand it either, Mr. Farmington.

You're playing chess like a novice.

The manner in which you botched that South American assignment.

That too was amateurish.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Oh, Mr. Solo...

...I'd like you to meet Mr. Farmington of your State Department.

- Mr. Solo. - How are you?

[GASPS THEN GRUNTING]

All right. I'll handle this.

Mr. Waverly.

Farmington.

Nikos Korzos.

Niels Bergstrom, have-- Have killed....

[WAVERLY GROANS]

Waiter, call an ambulance.

Code 20-A.

[OVER HEADSET] Repeat 2-0-A.

[ALARM BLARING]

Mr. Waverly's down.

- What happened? SOLO [OVER SPEAKER]: Poisoned.

Unconscious, but still alive. An ambulance is on the way from the Hobart Clinic.

Get one of our own men over there. Dr. Tower.

- Anything else? SOLO: I want Section 2 men to meet us.

Possibly it's the handiwork of Thrush.

If they botched the job, they may make another attempt at it.

We're on our way.

[SIREN WAILING]

How does it look for him, my friend?

- Who? - I don't know, Illya.

He mentioned three names before, uh....

One of them, Farmington, is still back at the club.

The other two were Nikos Korzos and Niels Bergstrom.

- See if Research can locate them for us. - All right.

I'm Dr. Elmont. Dr. Dabree.

Napoleon Solo.

Until Mr. Waverly's personal physician arrives...

...I would appreciate anything you could do for him.

As luck would have it, I was clear across town.

Research finds only one Niels Bergstrom in New York City. That's his address.

And Nikos Korzos?

They suggested I buy this evening's paper to find his whereabouts.

Research informed me that Korzos empire has been disintegrating.

This morning his shipping line went into receivership.

- Well, they seem positive it was suicide. - 'Twas the last blow.

They found no link between Korzos and Bergstrom?

They have nothing yet.

All right, I'll take Bergstrom. You go back to the club, talk to Farmington.

The waiter and the bartender, they also had a chance to tamper with the cognac.

I shall see to them.

The, uh, poison is a neurotoxin.

It's going to be touch and go for quite a few hours.

You left Waverly alone in there?

- Surely you don't suspect Dr. Elmont? - I want him under constant observation.

- You don't carry a weapon, do you? - I'm a physician, not a bodyguard.

Here's an extra clip, just in case.

- I don't even know how to handle this. - This is the safety. Full back, it won't fire.

One notch forward, semi-automatic. One squeeze, one shot.

You have been in the Enforcement Section too long.

Forget about full automatic. Keep it on semi.

Oh, look, this clinic has an international reputation.

And don't get fancy. Use both hands to aim, all right? There you are.

Napoleon, nobody's gonna try to finish off Waverly in here.

You're angry, Elmont.

And why not? Of all the fool stunts.

Elmont, if our dear Mr. Waverly was suspicious of Farmington before...

...that chess game was all the proof he needed.

I did what had to be done.

But why a marginal dose of poison? Why not just kill him?

DABREE: I wonder why Thrush tolerates you.

Kill Mr. Waverly?

One of the five top men in the U.N.C.L.E. Organization.

Kill him...

...when we can let him go right back to work with a slight handicap?

[CHUCKLES]

Like Korzos and Farmington.

And others.

The waiter at the club.

What if he talks?

David has already persuaded him not to.

Haven't you, David?

[SIGHS]

[KNOCKING ON DOOR]

CECILLE: Who is it?

SOLO: Miss Bergstrom?

I said, "who is it?" not "come in."

I recondition them.

Oh, you'll have to excuse me I was looking for your brother, uh, Niels.

The light was on.

I'd like to speak to him.

I'm sorry. My brother can't help you.

Do you, uh, always make up his mind for him?

I'm afraid I have to make up his mind for him.

Look, I get paid $4 for every one of these I do.

And I have to deliver the whole bunch by 7:00 in the morning.

Or lose a client. And I can't afford it.

Now you're wasting my very valuable time.

Just--? Just for seeing my brother?

Just for, uh, seeing your brother.

[SIGHS]

We don't need it, you know.

Actually, my business is doing quite well.

Come on.

SOLO: Mr. Bergstrom.

I'm sorry.

How long has he, uh...?

Four years.

- And you take care of him all by yourself? - What's wrong with that?

Nothing, nothing at all.

Listen, mister, you don't have to feel sorry for us. I've got my own business.

I know.

You just wait.

Some day we're gonna move into a nice neighborhood...

...where I can walk Niels down the street...

...and there won't be all those drunks making remarks.

- You just wait. - Excuse me.

[RADIO BEEPING]

- Yes? - I seem to have hit a brick wall.

- How did you make out with Farmington? - I believe he knows nothing.

The only thing of pertinence is Mr. Waverly...

...was probing a number of diplomatic blunders Farmington made recently.

So you're at a dead end too?

Well, only in a literal manner of speaking.

I think we can safely assume that the waiter was guilty.

But we're not going to get anything from him, Napoleon.

[DOOR BELL CHIMING]

Mr. Samoy.

- How was your flight from Calcutta? - Very fast, Mr. Solo, very fast.

We knew one of Mr. Waverly's counterparts would fly in under a Code 20 alert.

- We didn't know which. - Security precaution.

What is the latest news concerning Waverly?

Uh, still critical.

The communiqu� I received mentioned Thrush.

Yes, the waiter who administered the poison.

We found a small two-way radio in his room...

...definitely a design used by Thrush.

- Naturally we've taken extra precautions. - Mm-hm.

We have Mr. Waverly under constant guard.

Jason.

[TOWER SIGHS]

Jason, I wanna catch a couple hours' sleep.

You call me in the staff lounge if there's any change, will you?

You see, Dr. Elmont, as time passes, they begin to relax.

I'm beginning to wish I never heard of you and Thrush.

And this infernal machine.

It's madness.

Elmont.

You knew there was risk involved. It's not just taking out an appendix.

Think.

We have Waverly in our grasp.

What do we gain if we merely kill him?

They do have men to replace him.

- The secrets that man's mind must hold. - Hey.

The human mind, like an interplanetary missile, Elmont.

One minor fault to lose its effectiveness.

I know all this.

A single malfunctioning condenser here.

And a minor short circuit here.

Instead of the mess and furor of assassinating an enemy physically...

...we destroy only that part of him which can do us harm.

And before we are finished, we shall have ground U.N.C.L.E...

...along with Mr. Waverly, into the mud beneath our heels.

CECILLE: Niels!

Niels, no.

If only we knew what was the matter.

If only you could do something.

SAMOY: Thank you very much, Miss Bergstrom.

For what?

SOLO: Waverly's last words still puzzle me.

Farmington. Korzos. Bergstrom.

Then very weakly, "Have-- Have killed."

I don't understand.

Neither do I.

That would seem to be clear enough.

But of the three, Korzos is the only one actually dead.

And Thrush doesn't work that slowly.

You men of the western world, so literal-minded.

Now, in my own hemisphere, a man such as Mr. Farmington...

...a statesman whose brilliant career appears to be slipping downhill...

...might very well be thought of as dying.

Mr. Korzos, whose vast industrial empire is lying in dust at his feet.

Wasn't the essential spirit of this man destroyed...

...or perhaps assassinated even before he put a gun to his head?

What about, uh, Bergstrom?

It's almost as if he were half dead.

Or in Mr. Solo's words, as good as dead.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute.

Not "have killed." "Half killed." That's what Waverly was trying to tell us.

Yes.

There is no doubt the Thrush has discovered some way to assassinate a man.

To half kill him quite literally.

Thrush?

An organization with one simple ambition in this world. To dominate it.

That explains why Waverly wasn't given a fatal dose of the poison.

Now, could Thrush have wanted him taken to the Hobart Clinic?

The Hobart Clinic appears to be a Thrush trap.

Now, what do you intend to do?

- Well, to get Mr. Waverly out of there. - One moment, please.

We must discover how this thing is done.

Is this deathless-assassination technique...

...is it a rather complicated operation, Mr. Solo?

Performed in a hospital by a highly-skilled hand?

Or perhaps, a hypodermic injection administered by a nurse?

Or, heaven help us...

...a simple liquid, which might be dumped by any hireling into a reservoir system...

...to mentally assassinate an entire city?

SOLO: We must protect Mr. Waverly.

We, of Section 1, have pledged our lives by the same oath...

...as have you enforcement officers of Section 2.

Alert your people at the clinic.

But let Waverly remain there.

All agents. Set Condition Mushroom, Code 6.

Alert all agents. Set Condition Mushroom. Jason, Cartier, stand by.

Now we must concentrate on discovering exactly who the patriots of Thrush are.

All right, I guess I'll have to go back to where I came in...

...and start all over again with Farmington.

What's that?

What's what?

That-- That thing you talked into.

That's the thing I talked into.

Oh.

[WEAPON BUZZES]

DABREE: A harmless hypnotic formula.

He won't even know he's been out when he wakes up.

In six hours, 17 minutes.

You're feeling much better now, Mr. Waverly, aren't you?

Relaxed, refreshed.

You find you can talk now, can't you?

[WAVERLY GROANING]

What was that?

- Yes. DABREE: Good.

I'm going to ask you some questions now.

Besides yourself, Mr. Waverly, there are four top policy men in Section 1.

You will tell me their names and their home addresses.

The first one, Mr. Waverly.

Monsieur Bonet David.

226 Rue des Pins, Paris, France.

Mr. Curtis Lee Albeim.

78 Westover.

As a matter of fact, yes.

Dr. Elmont is my personal physician.

Well, tell me, did he ever perform any, um, operations on you?

Yes, a minor one. He removed a small cyst from the back of my neck.

Well, where there any, uh, unusual aftereffects?

Yes, as a matter of fact...

...I did have a blinding headache for almost a week afterwards.

SOLO: Mm-hm.

Is it conceivable that about this time that, uh...?

Well, that certain things started going wrong for you?

Exactly what do you mean by that?

Mm, some difficulties in your chess game, perhaps...

...some, uh, setbacks in your work.

Mr. Solo.

There are certain cliques in the State Department...

...that are busily promulgating the rumor...

...that Calvin Farmington is, and I quote, "in trouble."

That he is, in fact, finished.

Well, let me assure you that there is no truth whatsoever in these rumors.

I, uh, have had one or two minor difficulties.

But these minor miscalculations are unusual...

...only because Calvin Farmington made them.

However, I don't intend to discuss that matter with you or anyone else.

Good day, sir.

[CLEARS THROAT]

Did you catch all of that, Illya?

Yes, it's most interesting. And it's beginning to tie together, Napoleon.

Korzos' secretary has been most helpful.

Korzos also went to Dr. Elmont.

He spent two days at the clinic approximately one year ago.

There's, uh, nothing more of importance.

Farmington, Korzos, Waverly...

...Dr. Elmont. Humph.

Now just where does Bergstrom fit in?

I shouldn't have let you do it.

No matter how much money you paid me.

I already explained that, Cecille. The money doesn't matter.

You would have let us, anyway.

Because what we hope to discover, may save more than one person's life.

All right, then.

But I just feel so mercenary taking money for it.

Well, listen, I mean, if it really bothers you that much--

You know something, Mr. Solo.

I think people, some people anyway, have forgotten what money is really for.

I mean, well, they think it's to buy fancy furniture and swimming pools...

...or just to keep up with the Joneses.

But there are some people who need money for more basic things.

Like, we need money for food...

...and to have a roof over our head...

...and to buy clothes.

[SCOFFS]

I guess you can't understand that.

No, as hard as it may be for you to believe, I can understand that.

No scars.

Well, whatever the technique used, apparently it's rather complicated.

It only seems to be happening to those people who go to the Hobart Clinic.

Except Mr. Bergstrom. He's never been there.

For that, you should be getting your answers gift-wrapped.

Well, money works a lot faster than arguing with her.

I don't wanna have anymore to do with either one of you.

Now, you say your brother's doctor at County General Hospital was...?

Dr. Suslow, an old, old man who died shortly after my brother left the hospital.

And you never met or heard of anyone called Doctor--?

Dr. Elmont? No.

And my brother never had anything wrong with his mind before.

They said the reason he's the way he is, is because we lost our parents.

He had all that pain when he had the stomach operations.

He was afraid of dying.

And he worried himself sick about what would happen to me.

Do you recall the names of any of the other doctors involved, even temporarily.

Oh, uh, I don't know. Dr. Dabree.

- Dabree? - Dabree?

Well....

Well, yes.

How did you happen to remember her?

I, uh.... I asked her how much money she earns.

Well, she is a woman doctor, you know.

Elmont and Dabree.

I better get over to the clinic.

And I'll draw a little of their fire in our own direction.

I'm sorry, sir. No one is allowed on the 5th or 6th floor.

Dr. Dabree left strict instructions.

A hepatitis quarantine. All elevators are shut down.

[WEAPON BUZZES]

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

I just won't do it.

- You're not letting me explain. - You don't have to explain.

Listen. If your friend is up to his neck in danger like you say he is...

...and I try to help, now won't some of that rub off on me?

Yeah, there is a, uh, certain amount of risk involved.

Oh, please just don't ask me again.

[SIGHS]

I've got all the trouble I can handle.

I just can't handle anymore.

SOLO: Cecille.

Cecille, uh....

I think--

Niels!

He's started doing things like that lately.

I'm really worried.

Cecille, uh, perhaps, if you help me...

...I may be able to help you...

...and Niels.

And this time it's worth...

...one thousand dollars.

Just one little telephone call.

One thousand dollars.

[SIGHS]

Such beautiful tape recordings.

Such lovely secrets they hold.

Thrush will be very pleased.

[TELEPHONE RINGS]

Yes?

It's for Dr. Dabree.

A Miss Bergstrom.

Bergstrom? Berg--

Bergstrom.

I'll speak to her.

Yes, Miss Bergstrom.

It is Dr. Dabree.

What did you want?

Recovering? In what way?

Oh.

Oh, I see.

Tell me, Miss Bergstrom...

...how did you find out where to call me?

When my brother started getting better, I called the General Hospital...

...and they told me you've moved to the Hobart Clinic.

Uh, yes, I know.

Well, um--

Well, I just thought you might tell me something to do...

...to make him get better faster or something.

She isn't even interested.

Don't worry, she's interested.

CECILLE: Oh, boy.

Boy, oh, boy, oh, boy.

Oh, boy! Oh, boy! Oh, boy!

I didn't know it was so much fun having money.

- You know what I'm gonna do? - No, what are you gonna do?

I mean, just for me, just for myself.

I'm gonna get somebody to take care of Niels one evening...

...and I'm going to one of those, you know, some place like:

[SIGHS]

I'll bet you go to those rich restaurants all the time, don't you?

Oh, you mean places like, uh:

Yeah, I mean, the way you throw money around.

Oh, gosh, just think.

Candelabras and waiters and maybe an orchestra.

[CECILLE SIGHS]

- Oh, my gosh. - What's wrong?

Oh, my gosh. Well, I just can't do it.

I mean, well, if I do that...

...then I have to buy clothes.

And not only clothes, but, well, shoes and--

Everything.

I didn't know having money was so much trouble.

Well, I'll tell you what, Miss Bergstrom.

If this works out, you won't have to worry about going to, uh:

Because I'll take you there myself.

- With clothes and everything? - With clothes and everything.

Oh! Mwah!

Now, I think our friends have had time to make their arrangements...

...so we better settle ours.

Now, I want you to stay back here with your brother out of the way.

All right? Understood?

- Mm-hm. - Okay.

CECILLE: Boy.

Niels.

[SCREAMING]

Hello, Jason.

Jason? Cartier?

[OVER RADIO] Jason.

Cartier.

Illya. Can you hear me, Illya?

Illya? Illya.

[MUMBLING]

Elmont, you are so slow.

This is not something that can be--

Oh, forget it. I'll be finished in a few minutes.

[MUMBLES]

If you promise not to scream anymore, the gag will come off.

No one can hear you anyway.

Mm-hm.

Very well then.

[SCREAMS]

Help--!

You are such a nasty little creature.

Please. I promise. No more screaming.

This will be handy.

Just in case.

Did you really do something to my brother?

That was unfortunate.

In County General, I had only a small room in the basement...

...in which to do my work.

Yes, that was unfortunate.

How did you get involved with Mr. Solo anyway?

Money.

Let that be a lesson to you.

Never do anything for money.

Only do those things which you enjoy doing.

You're not gonna use that on me, are you?

Can you think of a better way for us to keep your mouth shut?

Very well, then.

Help! Help! Help!

Nurse, have you--?

Illya.

[SNAPS]

They've blocked off the 5th and 6th floors. They claim a hepatitis quarantine.

They will not allow anyone off the elevator.

You all right?

I've felt better. My head.

What about the stairs?

I'm sure the stairway's guarded.

If we try to go up to Mr. Waverly, they'll kill him before we could reach him.

All right, if we can't go up, we'll go down.

All right, Mr. Waverly is on the 5th floor...

...so you'll have to punch four, five and six. But be sure to get off at four.

Yes, I shall. And you, my friend?

When it stops at six, I'll get off at five.

I'll give you two minutes to get to Mr. Waverly then I'll start up the stairs.

Good luck.

[ELEVATOR DRONING]

DABREE: Thank you. ELMONT: Well, what now?

Finish what you are doing, Elmont.

I'll check and see what's going on outside.

David.

David.

[SIGHS]

[PANTING]

We are all ready.

All right, resign yourself, doctor, the operation is over.

I had no intention of arguing.

[CECILLE MUMBLING]

[MUMBLING]

[MACHINE HUMMING]

Sorry.

[CECILLE GASPS]

Mr. Solo, I'm gonna cry.

[CECILLE SOBBING]

Do you suppose I could get a couple of aspirin around here?

Don't.

I could not return to Calcutta without first seeing that machine.

Truly fantastic.

You didn't drop by to ask about my health?

Good heavens, no.

Let me assure you, my dear Alexander, if this thing happens again...

...we shall simply dust off our hands and let them keep you.

We've located the missing briefcase?

No, I fear the tape recordings are undoubtedly in the hands of Thrush.

Well, I should hope so.

After the endless hours I spent being programmed...

...to impart false information if placed under the influence of drugs...

...believe me I--

Ha, I shouldn't wanna think that all those miserable hours had gone to waste.

Well, it ends well.

Except...

...why haven't we found the body of that woman...

...who you told me fell down the elevator shaft?

Oh, you should have seen Elmont.

His face was like a blank, mindless child.

Don't carry on, Flo.

I shall get Solo for you.

And for Elmont...

...and for David.

I shall make Mr. Solo pay his pound of flesh.

[GASPS]

What's wrong?

Well, for a moment--

I tell you, if I were inclined toward being superstitious...

...I'd swear someone just stepped on my grave.

Come on.

I prefer dancing on my grave.

[ENGLISH SDH]