Original subtitles

[BAND PLAYING JAZZ MUSIC]

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

In my family, when you take away a dame's honor...

...it's right you give it back, capische?

- Yeah. - And what is she, ugly?

No, she's lovely, Uncle Fingers. It's backwards.

She's superb. She's beautiful. And she's still possessed of her honor,

As far as I know.

Then shut up. You're going to get married, period.

Why, half of the crumbs out there ain't been out of the woodwork for 30 years.

SOLO: Yeah? - But for this....

For the wedding of the Stilletto brothers, why, you ought to be proud.

I'm not Italian, you know.

That's all right. Try to be proud anyway.

[WHISTLES]

Hey, you bubs, the bride-to-be.

[CROWD CHEERING AND APPLAUDING]

Remember, those old duffers in there may look harmless...

...but I can assure you that during the prohibition days...

...they could have and would have torn either one of you apart...

...for the price of a cigar.

So be careful.

And, uh, we want Solo alive.

[BAND PLAYING WEDDING MARCH]

[APPLAUSE]

[WHISTLE BLOWING AND GUESTS SCREAMING]

STRAGO: Right where you are.

Hands up, everyone.

FINGERS: Hey, what is this? What do you bums think you are?

Oh, Mr. Strago.

Um, Mr. Stilletto, I, uh....

I hope you'll not mind too much, but I've come to collect the bridegroom.

Mr. Solo.

So you do know him, you liar. He is your man.

Come on now, Mr. Solo.

You don't really want to get married, do you?

Well, uh....

Right now, I'm not quite so sure about that.

Nobody draws on the Stilletto brothers, Strago, nobody.

[GUESTS YELLING AND MURMURING]

PRETTY: Down, down.

[GUNFIRE]

[GUESTS SCREAMING]

[GRANDMAMMA SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[GUNSHOT]

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[CYMBAL CRASHING]

STRAGO: Stop firing, everyone!

[GUNFIRE STOPS]

I have in my hand a transistorized double-gamma capsule grenade...

...potent enough to blow half this room apart!

Lay down your arms, gentlemen. Please.

Mr. Solo, would you step this way?

Oh, and the young lady too, I think.

Uh, just as a bit of insurance.

Against renewed hostilities.

[GUESTS MURMURING]

We'll get you for this, Strago!

I swear it on my honor! On the code, I swear it!

STRAGO: Sorry to tear you away from your friends, Mr. Solo...

...but Central has dictated...

...I'm to drag you and Mr. Kuryakin along on a little journey.

I don't know why myself, really. Interrogation, I suppose.

SOLO: You've got Illya?

What there is left of him, yes.

Thrush Central doesn't need this girl. I'm sure they couldn't care less about her.

I care, Mr. Solo. After you, my dear.

No!

[PIA SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

STRAGO: Now we got her in there...

...Mr. Solo, will you get into the car under your own power or--?

PIA: Aah! STRAGO: And you keep her quiet.

Or I tuck you--

[STRAGO GRUNTING]

SOLO: I'll be back, Pia.

STRAGO: Get him. Get him! After him.

WAVERLY: Morning, Bill. BILL: Morning.

We've traced Strago and company...

...at a privately owned little dot of an island in the Caribbean.

From which point apparently...

...they intend to launch the missiles to divert the Gulf Stream.

SOLO: Unless we can prevent it. - Precisely.

Sixteen hours from now, Mr. Solo...

...we will launch three entire assault groups against this island.

Supported by B-52 bombers...

...we'll reduce the island and everything on it to rubble.

SOLO: Sir?

They can't do that.

I beg your pardon.

Well, uh, Illya, sir.

Strago missed out with me.

If he's on that island, he's got Illya with him.

Yes, yes. Yes, I quite realize that.

All right, sir. Illya's an agent, Section Two.

He's expendable just like the rest of us. But what about the girl, Mr. Waverly?

- Pia Monteri. - Yes, I read your report about her.

And, yes, I quite realize she's probably on the island as well.

Sir....

Whether through my fault or not, whether directly or indirectly...

...I'm responsible for that girl being there.

Illya's a volunteer. He knows the risks.

But not that girl.

Are you an operative in this organization, Mr. Solo?

If not, may I have your credentials, please?

I'm sorry.

I'll get some coffee.

We'll demolish that island within 16 hours, Mr. Solo.

And I give you my word there won't be a living thing left on it.

So you won't have time for coffee...

...if you intend to get there in time to do anything for those two young people.

Thank you, sir.

Alexander Waverly, heh:

Sentimental grandmother of the year.

PIA: You'll not touch me, you hear? STRAGO: How odd it is.

I, who am impeccable...

...who cannot abide that which smacks of the common, the grimy.

How is it...

...that I would want to bring you with me to this island?

You, who embody all that is vulgar in the world.

Ah, ah, ah, you stay away, you hear?

STRAGO [WHISPERS]: You fascinate me.

You'll no touch me. You'll no touch me.

VON KRONEN: Ah, Fr�ulein.

You go to see Herr Strago?

DIKETON: Taking him some orders we just received from Central.

VON KRONEN: Will you tell him, please...

...the magnetron is activated perfectly by the heavy water.

DIKETON: Good.

VON KRONEN: And if these very clever and charming young ladies...

...keep on as they are, the missiles will be armed...

...and ready for lowering in the launching room by tonight.

- I'll tell him, doctor. VON KRONEN: Uh, Fr�ulein Diketon.

Uh, yes?

I must tell you...

...I cannot forget how beautifully you tortured that U.N.C.L.E. agent.

DIKETON: Oh. - I....

I....

I would like you to know that I....

I admire you very much.

Bravo!

Oh, that's awfully sweet.

From a real professional like you.

Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.

You touch me, I'll jump.

[CHUCKLES]

Would you really?

Yes, I would, really.

[KNOCKING AT DOOR]

[PIA GRUNTS]

How dare you?

I did knock, sir, twice.

It didn't occur to me that you might be occupied, with that.

Don't be absurd, Miss Diketon.

Disgusting creature.

So that's why they....

They wanted me to keep that U.N.C.L.E. agent alive.

Miss Diketon?

Go see to it that Kuryakin is brought up here at once.

Please.

At once, Miss Diketon.

STRAGO: Mr. Kuryakin.

Thrush Central has decreed that I'm to keep you alive and in good health.

Does that, uh...?

- Does that surprise you, Mr. Kuryakin? ILLYA: Are you all right?

STRAGO: I'm speaking!

[ILLYA GRUNTS]

To you, Mr. Kuryakin.

Yes, I'm quite surprised. May I ask why?

Well, you'll find that out in due course. Meanwhile....

[TELEPHONE BEEPING]

- Yes? MAN [OVER PHONE]: Orange alert, sir.

Fifteen-mile perimeter, coming straight in from the mainland side.

- Good rate of speed, sir. STRAGO: Um, uh....

Set the barrier. I'll, uh, come up personally.

You may as well come too, Mr. Kuryakin, under the....

Under the, uh, circumstances...

...there's no reason why you shouldn't be given the guided tour.

You, my dear, will stay here.

Please.

See that she does.

DIKETON: Sit down, sweetie.

STRAGO: So, Mr. Kuryakin...

...while much of America and Europe are becoming icy wastes...

...Greenland will become Thrushland and, uh, we shall all live happily ever after.

ILLYA: What's to prevent other countries from destroying Thrushland?

STRAGO: That's what I brought you here to see.

- Uh, how close? CAPTAIN: Uh, 10.5 miles, sir.

STRAGO: Activate the barrier at 10 miles. CAPTAIN: Roger.

Call Dr. Von Kronen and ask him to meet me here...

...after this quick demonstration.

Yes, oh.

Here, take a look, Mr. Kuryakin.

In the bowels of this island...

...there are over 100,000, um, tuning forks...

...all ready to vibrate at the top of their lungs.

Their cumulative vibration is joined together...

...and funneled up in a single channel to that, uh-- Yes.

To that reflecting disk.

Activate the barrier, captain.

Barrier activated, sir.

Focus in on that approaching vessel, Mr. Kuryakin.

Now, pretend we're already on Greenland-- Um, Thrushland.

And the United Nations has sent that vessel to, uh....

To destroy us.

Now, captain!

[HIGH-PITCHED SHRIEKING]

You're mad in the head, signorina.

I wouldn't even spit at Signor Strago.

I'm not afraid of you.

You let me out of here, or I'll cut you up like a chicken.

Oh, yes.

I think you should try to escape.

In fact, I'm going to love you trying to escape.

[DIKETON CHUCKLES]

[BOTH GRUNTING]

No knives, Signorina Knife Lady, huh?

[PIA LAUGHING]

Take her up to her cell.

Go ahead, doctor.

VON KRONEN: Well, there are only two things, Herr Strago.

Both of--

STRAGO: Yes, doctor?

VON KRONEN: Both of which concern the fact...

...that these rooms and this launching tube...

...are located 75 feet below sea level.

Uh, first, the tremendous water pressure against these outer doors--

You needn't worry about that, professor.

When the missiles are ready for launching, the, uh, tube will be adequately pressurized.

- Mr. Strago. - Heh, I don't intend to drown my people.

Mr. Strago.

Your second point?

I would advise that we advance our timetable.

Say, 12 hours?

By launching the missiles sooner, we can take advantage of the tides.

If you can get them ready that soon, we'll launch them that soon.

Please, Mr. Strago.

I told you to keep that girl here...

...and I return to find her on her way out, wielding my letter opener...

...and you flat on your back like some rank amateur.

Oh, but, Mr. Strago, it was an accident--

You have failed in your job!

Thrush Central does not tolerate failure.

You're sick, Miss Diketon.

Even for Thrush, you are very, very sick.

You're aware, of course, that, uh...

...my superior is arriving tonight to approve the plans, uh, and wish us well.

I shall ask him to, uh, have you transferred.

For rehabilitation, if possible.

Transferred?

Tran--? Away from you?

With an unsatisfactory a rating as I can possibly give you.

For I am sick too.

Sick of the very sight of you and your unclean mind...

...which corrupts the very air I breathe.

Well, um, dismissed, Miss Diketon.

VON KRONEN: Each missile will be numbered...

...and each will travel approximately one mile farther...

...than the one launched before.

[TELEPHONE BEEPING]

STRAGO: Yes?

MAN [OVER PHONE]: We've got another vessel within the 15-mile perimeter.

Larger and slower. Fishing boat, probably.

STRAGO: Don't use the sound barrier this time.

I don't want, uh, the debris to bring the search planes into the area.

Uh, we're launching the missiles tonight?

Yes. And, uh, I don't want any delays.

Use the, um-- Use the patrol boat this time.

Well, just toss me back in, will you?

- We'll call it even. - Some of our old pals...

...have traced Strago's boat from Chicago down through the Gulf.

Now, we know he's on that island. Why ain't you?

He's a pal of yours, ain't he?

No, uh, not exactly, no.

And where's Pia? Is she on the island too?

- Where's our niece, punk? - Look, you wanna see Pia safe, so do I.

If you wanna get out to that island, you'd better know how to swim.

- Because they got doozey of a weapon-- FEET: Shut up, bridesgroom.

We want Strago. We want Pia and Strago!

Yeah, I know your vendetta. Well, you just can't go galumphing into--

Look, let's get in out of the sun.

I'll tell all a nice story about the Gulf Stream...

...and nuclear missiles and a wicked little bird called Thrush.

How about it?

A little bird called what?

I am sorry I cause such trouble for Signor Solo.

But now you tell me he's a policeman, huh?

Now I understand.

- No, we're not policemen, uh-- - And you, I cause trouble for you too.

Now you must worry about my life as well as your own.

You know, you are a nice man. I like you.

[CHUCKLES]

I like you too.

- You-- You're not Italian, eh? - No.

- Pity, isn't it? - Heh, no, it doesn't matter.

It's just that the grandma, you know, she says, always, uh....

[KNOCKING]

Hey, you.

Hurry up, I only have a minute.

If I help you get free, what then?

ILLYA: Who wants to know?

Listen to me, Illya. Strago, I hate him.

I wanna see him fail. I wanna see him crawl.

And then I'd like to kill him slowly.

- I'd like to-- - You said you only had a minute.

There'll be a party tonight.

I think you're supposed to provide some of the entertainment.

Promise me you'll help me destroy Louis Strago...

...and I'll help you get free, yes or no?

- What about Pia? I won't leave-- - Just you, I said. Yes or no. Quickly.

- Yes. - Good.

SOLO: Well, that's the story, gentlemen.

In a very few hours, my friends are going to be coming to level that island.

- So if we're, uh-- - Hey, Feet, Fingers, Pretty.

Looks like maybe we got some visitors.

SOLO: Coming straight out from the island.

Probably a patrol boat.

Try rumrunning for a while, kid.

You learn how to handle patrol boats pretty well.

You remember, guys? Heh, heh.

[ALL SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

All right, come on, let's get ready.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN THEN LAUGHS]

CAPTAIN [OVER MEGAPHONE]: You are in restricted waters.

Please turn all hands to and prepare to be boarded for inspection.

[GUNFIRE]

Scissors, Scissors!

Scissors, Scissors.

Stop firing.

- I give up. - He's dead.

Thirty-five years, I know this bum.

And now you killed him!

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

FINGERS: Hold it, hold it.

I'll kill you, you-- I'll kill you.

[ALL SHOUTING]

If you don't want us to turn him loose, my friend...

...then I'd suggest you take us to your little island home.

SOLO: Oh, you're in for a bad evening.

All right, Crunch, that boat may be our only transportation out of here.

We need a good man to stay with it.

CRUNCH: Don't worry. Me and the boat'll be here.

SOLO: All right. CRUNCH: Good luck.

PRETTY: Don't sleep. That ain't Lake Michigan.

CRUNCH: Will you stop worrying?

[HELICOPTER WHIRRING]

Down.

- What's he doing? - It's a bigwig from Thrush Central.

Mr. Strago's boss.

The Man in the Green Hat, they call him.

Oh, coming for the kick-off, huh?

Okay, gentlemen. We've got a long walk. Let's get it done.

THALER: A great privilege, Professor Von Kronen.

We at Thrush Central are grateful for your help, sir.

STRAGO: Oh, professor, this is Mr. Thaler, my, uh, heh, immediate superior.

VON KRONEN: I'm honored. THALER: Oh, the faithful Miss Diketon.

- More beautiful than ever. DIKETON: Oh, thank you, sir.

THALER: You'd be a fortunate man, Strago, if you were human.

Oh, uh, that U.N.C.L.E. agent...

- ...I trust you've still got him. - Yes, of course, sir.

Good. I'll be wanting to chat with him a bit...

...to sort of, uh, prelude, you might say.

Uh, oh, in that case, Mr. Thaler...

...I'll go have the guards clean him up a little before you meet him.

- Splendid, my dear. Run along. - I'll be joining you at the party.

THALER: She is adorable.

- A party? In my honor? - Yes, naturally, sir.

Uh, Mr. Thaler....

I'm afraid I've had to write a distinctly unfavorable fitness report on Miss Diketon.

I'd, uh, like to request her transfer out of my command.

THALER: That bad? - Incorrigible, sir, and irreparably corrupt.

Well, well, we certainly can't have corruption in Thrush, can we?

But don't transfer her, Strago. Just kill her and have done with it, will you?

Save all that annoying paperwork.

Now, would you show me to my room? I'd like to freshen up.

DIKETON: Just the young man.

- Come on. ILLYA: Pia, I--

How fortunate we don't have to make her presentable for Mr. Thaler.

Probably couldn't be done.

Take him to the assembly elevator. Get him cleaned up, at least.

Everyone's upstairs at the party, waiting for the main attraction.

That's you, Mr. Kuryakin.

[GUARD LAUGHS]

[GASPS]

Ooh, that was lovely.

ILLYA: I'm going back for Pia.

DIKETON: That's not only nauseating, it's insane.

There's a fast patrol boat anchored on the other side of the island.

- I said I am going back for Pia. - But you can't do that. We have to--

[VON KRONEN SPEAKING IN GERMAN]

Herr Strago wasn't wrong after all.

And I, who came here to warn you about him...

...must now go on to warn him about you!

Shoot him.

[THUD]

I almost feel sorry for him.

You see, the doctor, we were soul mates.

- Is there another way out of here? DIKETON: The other elevator.

You better change into the guard's uniform.

[GRUNTING]

[CHUCKLES]

- Hi. - Hi, there.

[CLEARS THROAT]

[ILLYA GRUNTS]

SOLO: You know, I'm getting tired of violence. Your uniform, I thought, uh....

- Yes, yes, so did I. SOLO: Sorry.

I said I was sorry.

I mean, how did I know you'd have the brains to get free on your own?

I bring Lucrezia Borgia, and you bring the Mafia.

Ha, we're in great shape.

[CROWD CHATTERING]

[BAND PLAYING JAZZ MUSIC]

I trust it was no imposition.

STRAGO: On the contrary. It was a pleasure to get Kuryakin.

My only regret is that we couldn't bring Solo as well.

Well, one is better than none.

You do understand, Strago.

Here, I've ordered the deaths of any number of U.N.C.L.E. agents...

...and I've never witnessed a single execution.

I don't wanna get a reputation as strictly a desk man, you know.

- I want to be with my troops. - Oh, I understand fully, sir.

And Kuryakin's death, which I assure you will be a unique one, ha, ha...

...should be a nice climax to the party.

A pi�ce de r�sistance, if you will. Ha, ha.

Something wrong, Strago?

No, sir. No, sir, nothing that, uh....

Nothing that can't be taken care of. Heh.

Excuse me.

The scum, where is he?

Who let him out? Answer me.

Answer me!

[BONGOS BEATING]

[BAND PLAYING JAZZ MUSIC]

Yellow alert.

See to it that the U.N.C.L.E. agent is tracked down and brought to me.

He can't get far on this island.

And, guard, Miss Diketon.

I want to see her too.

Wonderful party, Strago. Haven't enjoyed myself so much in years.

STRAGO: Very happy, sir. Heh.

Oh, uh, there's been a slight delay in readying the special equipment...

...for the, uh, U.N.C.L.E. agent's grand finale.

May I suggest that we, uh, postpone his performance until after the launch?

THALER: You do have a sense of the theatrical, my dear Strago.

Frankly, I never thought you had it in you. Ha-ha-ha.

Thank you. Uh, I'm afraid we have to break up the party, sir.

There's, uh-- There is some work to do, you know?

THALER: Oh, to be sure. Where do we go from here?

Well, uh, may I show you the facilities?

They're really quite impressive, you know.

PRETTY: We got your buddy, right?

Okay, so all we gotta do now is to grab Pia and get back to the boat.

FEET: Yeah, when your bombers get here, what is it, three hours...

...we'll be 50 miles away.

SOLO: That was the original intention, gentlemen.

It's not quite that simple anymore.

What do you mean, it ain't quite that simple anymore?

Well, for one thing, if my playmate is telling the truth...

...Strago has changed his timetable.

In three hours, half those missiles will already have been launched.

DIKETON: It's true. CAPTAIN: What's the difference?

With our sound-wave barrier...

...it makes no difference whether your bombers get here on time or not.

- Who asked you, Fauntleroy? SOLO: As it happens, he's probably right.

I really never liked you.

SOLO: Now, we got three things to do: rescue Pia...

...destroy that sound-barrier contraption and stop the launching of the missiles.

- Is that all? SOLO: Hmm.

Now, look at this map here that Fauntleroy has so graciously given us.

Now, here's the launching area.

We can get to it by either of these two elevators.

Well below sea level.

ILLYA: I'll take care of that end. - I'll take you part of the way.

I wish your motives were nobler.

Now, the control of the sound barrier is in the tower.

I'll go up there with your help.

FEET: What about Pia? PRETTY: Yeah, Pia.

- Yeah, that's what I want to find out. SOLO: Shh.

ILLYA: The cells are here. One level down.

I'll stop there first and bring her up to you.

There won't be time for that.

Look, I'm helping you because I wanna see Strago fail.

I wanna see him crawl for the miserable insect he is.

But I will not risk my life for that sniveling little peasant girl--

Watch your mouth, baby. I'll put a grapefruit in it for you.

- Yeah. - Don't worry, there'll be time.

And what'll we be doing?

Sit around reading poems to each other?

I hope not. I'll be up in the tower and Illya will be down here.

And I suspect there'll be a great number of little Thrushies in between.

FINGERS: Excuse me, fellows.

[FINGERS CHUCKLES]

You got a light?

My lighter busted and I'm clear out of matches. Just clear out.

Heh, heh. Thank you, pal.

ILLYA: Very nice. - Used to be our living.

SOLO: Keep the courtyard clear. They might bring in reinforcements.

PRETTY: Gee, I hope so. SOLO: Let's get up to the tower.

Come on. Move out.

Hey, when you get up there, pull every wire on that sound barrier thing.

SOLO: All right, good luck down in the basement.

How long is it before they launch those missiles?

PIA: Any time now.

SOLO: Is that the elevator? GUARD: No, it's over here.

Now, that elevator will, uh, carry the missiles...

...numbered and armed into the storage room.

And, uh, in exactly, uh, yes, nine and a half minutes...

...the first load will be leaving the storage room going through the tunnel...

...and into the launching room.

- Uh, following that, sir-- THALER: Excellent, excellent.

You're a bit of a pompous boor, my dear Mr. Strago...

...but you do know your job.

Mr. Strago, please. Communications line two.

Mr. Strago, please.

- [OVER SPEAKER] Line two. STRAGO: Pardon me for a moment.

THALER: Certainly.

Strago speaking.

Sir, this is Williams, Section L Enforcement.

Sorry to trouble you, but I saw Miss Diketon....

What do you mean you didn't recognize the guard that she was with?

Are you sure?

Yes, I see. All right, Williams!

Now, look, you get on the field telephone and contact every one of the guard unit...

...searching the island for the U.N.C.L.E. agent.

We launch in about, um, 10 minutes.

And I want every single one of those men back here!

If you will excuse me, sir, I....

It appears that I'm, uh....

That I'm needed upstairs for a minute or two.

Certainly. I'll go down to the storage and launch level.

See how it's done.

Yes, I'll be working in the launching apparatus.

Up in the control tower. If you would rather--

THALER: No, no, Strago, no.

This is a big moment for Thrush, ha.

I want to see that first missile go.

[THALER LAUGHS]

Mr. Strago wants to see the girl. Open up, please.

But he's already taken her out, Miss Diketon.

- I think he's looking for you too. - Oh, yes, I'm sure he is.

Drop it.

DIKETON: He must've taken her to his suite. No, no, wait, there's no time for that.

They'll be launching the missiles any minute.

You go downstairs and I'll go up to Strago's suite.

Don't worry. I won't hurt her if she's there.

I only care about Strago.

Illya, you go downstairs. Do whatever you want to those missiles.

Destroy them, anything. My only interest is watching Strago's face when you do it.

[FOOTSTEPS APPROACHING]

[PIA SCREAMS]

STRAGO: This time you will tell me all that I want to know.

It's time you tell me.

[PIA SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

PIA: I don't know! - You do know, and you will tell me!

- Tell me, tell me! PIA: I don't know.

There's more than one U.N.C.L.E. agent on this island, isn't there?

Isn't there?

What are their plans, dear?

How do they hope to stop me, dear?

Remember the time Bugs Moran told us our presence was no longer desired?

PRETTY: I sure do.

[GUNFIRE]

Hello, Control Tower.

STRAGO [OVER RADIO]: Captain? Control Tower.

- Captain? - Yes, sir, Mr. Strago.

Yes, there seems to be gunfire in the courtyard.

Is everything all right up there?

Yes, sir.

Nothing wrong at all, sir.

Good, I'm coming up there immediately. We're launching the missiles right now.

Mr. Strago.

Ugh!

- Hello there. ILLYA: How do you do?

Uh, I'm Thaler. From Central.

- I'm, uh, honored, sir. - Oh, yes?

You know, I was hoping one of these fellows would show me around.

I'm afraid they're much too busy.

And I certainly wouldn't want to interrupt their concentration.

Uh, could you, uh, give me a sort of tour?

Show me how it works.

- Uh, it would be a pleasure. - Oh, good, thank you.

ILLYA: This is Mr. Thaler of Thrush Central.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Stay still. You're hurt.

You're helping me?

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Look, you, uh, get out of here.

Your uncles are waiting, uh, in the courtyard. That way.

- And you? - No, I'm fine.

You just get out of here.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

SOLO: Where's the launching apparatus?

What launches the missiles, captain?

What, captain?

[SOLO GRUNTS]

CAPTAIN: I'm sorry. They had me prisoner-- STRAGO: Never mind that now!

Attention, Launching Room, attention!

But of course, sir. All this equipment is now controlled--

STRAGO [OVER SPEAKER]: Missile number one ready to be launched.

Outer hatch now open.

Do you mean this inner hatch here...

...is the only thing that keeps the ocean from coming in on us?

STRAGO: Missile will be fired in exactly 60 seconds.

Yes, that's about the size of it.

Uh, if you'll excuse me, I'll give you a graphic demonstration.

[THALER SCREAMING]

Twenty seconds.

Fifteen seconds.

STRAGO: Ten seconds.

[GRUNTING]

Five seconds.

Hello. Launching Room, hello?

STRAGO: Launching Room?

Hello?

Hello? Hello?

Hello, Launching Room?

Why don't you answer me down there? What's wrong down there?

Hello?

There's no-- There's no power. There's no reaction at all.

Get them on the other phone, go. Hello?

Launching Room, answer me. Hello? Launching Room, hello!

Why don't you answer me?

Hello? Launching Room, hello?

Hello? Kill him. Kill him.

[GRUNTING]

Kill him! Hello?

Kill him. Kill him!

Kill him!

Solo!

Mr. Solo, come down now, Mr. Solo.

[GASPING]

- Ha! Mr. Solo, now-- - Mr. Strago.

[GUNSHOT THEN DIKETON GRUNTS]

[GRUNTING]

[ALL SCREAMING]

[DIKETON SIGHS]

[WHISPERS] Oh, the pain.

I saw you fail.

I saw you die.

[SIGHS]

Ahem, how are you?

Pooped.

Where's Pia? Have you seen her?

- No, I thought-- - Come on.

[FINGERS & PIA SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Grandmother would be so proud of you. Ha, ha.

Hey, I got a confession. I didn't enjoy this like I thought.

Yeah, not like the good old days. It ain't like it used to be.

Hey, wait a minute. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven.

Why don't we send these guys a Saint Valentine's Day card?

Just for a present, huh?

Hey, that's a good idea!

Now you're talking. All right, you guys, turn around.

FINGERS: Face the wall. Keep your hands up.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

Shh!

[FINGERS & PIA BICKERING IN ITALIAN]

[ALL SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

- Just one thing. - Hmm.

We better leave before the bombers get here.

Do we have to swim?

[CROWD CHATTERING]

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

[CHEERING]

WAVERLY: Grandmamma Monteri, you're a genius.

You're among the immortals. Chicago is going to love you.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

FINGERS: Hey, hey.

Keep your hands where they belong, blondie.

ILLYA: Aah! - You too, kid.

We share our food with you. We share our wine with you.

And that's all we share, punks. Right?

- Right. GRANDMAMMA: Right.

[SPEAKING IN ITALIAN]

It seems to me, gentlemen, you met your match at last.

[ENGLISH SDH]