Original subtitles

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.