Original subtitles

You've still got plenty of time.

The ship isn't due to sail for two hours yet.

What do you mean I have plenty of time? What about you?

There may be some new developments here, you go on ahead.

If you need me, just whistle.

You sail immediately.

Impossible. The first mate won't be back...

Immediately.

You'll see to it that the captain follows those orders.

You will steer this course until 1000 hours, Wednesday.

At that time, you will open this envelope for further instructions.

This voyage had better go according to plan and precisely on schedule.

Oh, yes. Yes, indeed, Miss Janus. Timing is vital.

I've always been against hiring a degraded drunk.

So if he fouls this up...

I understand.

Miss Janus.

You and your people have chartered this ship.

But I am its captain, master of its soul.

Skipper next to God, that's what they call a ship's captain.

Yet you marched in here...

to see a mortal touched with divinity without knocking.

That's worse than bad manners, it verges on blasphemy.

Bon voyage, captain, or it will be your last.

Captain, captain, control yourself.

I'm in perfect control.

It was an empty bottle.

Did you find it?

Uh, not yet.

What was that?

Rats.

Oh, I should've known.

If you were here, you'd know.

I beg your pardon?

You said to whistle if I wanted you.

Well, I want you.

Sealed orders. Heh, melodrama.

You people are always steeped in melodrama.

Of course, I suppose we all must be steeped in something.

Take her out.

I'm sorry, Illya.

What can I say?

Well, you could say goodbye.

Oh, put that film on the monitor, please.

Oh, thank you.

Tsk. Let me. Thank you.

Is this the woman, Mr. Solo?

Yes, sir.

Jenny Janus.

Janus?

Isn't that the name of the Roman god that could look both ways at once?

Occasionally, Thrush comes up...

with a classically appropriate nom de guerre for a leading operative.

How about this fellow?

No, that man wasn't at the quayside.

Not surprising.

He's not due in Hong Kong for another two days.

- Professor Powers, isn't it? - Yes.

The man who created the tidal-wave device and turned it over to Thrush...

after which we received the ultimatum.

Ten billion dollars in various currencies...

or every coastal city in the world will disappear beneath a wall of water.

So the ship must be taking the machine...

to a place that is ideally situated for the launching of global tidal waves.

Precisely.

Professor Powers bears...

a faint resemblance to you, don't you think?

Am I to understand that, uh, Professor Powers...

is going to arrive in Hong Kong two days early?

Very good, Mr. Solo.

And you'll go straight to the Fiery Dragon Cabaret Bar.

Jenny Janus is an entertainer there.

As Professor Powers...

I think you ought to be able to persuade her...

to tell you where that ship's going.

Can't we just ask Illya on Channel D?

Attempts to communicate with Mr. Kuryakin on board ship have been fruitless.

Either that vessel's under a jamming umbrella or...

Or Illya may have been discovered and...

Yes, Mr. Solo.

He may have been discovered and, uh...

Open Channel D.

Hello, hello.

Well, by some electronic fluke, you may hear me. So hear this.

I'm gonna try and find some explosives on board and complete the mission.

The risk to me is considerable.

I therefore hereby officially apply for an H1 classification...

Hero, Class 1, when my file is closed.

If you can hear me, please note that the stage here...

is set for noble tragedy.

On the other hand, if I'm talking to myself...

the situation is merely one of lunatic farce.

There's going to be rough weather ahead.

We've got to check that cargo and see that it's fully secured.

It needs an overhaul...

by which I mean it should be hauled out and thrown over the side.

I cannot be responsible.

What do you want me to do? I can't get a farthing to repair this old tub.

Hey, what do we have here?

Who are you?

What's going on here?

Him.

- We found him here. - A stowaway is my concern.

He doesn't look like any stowaway to me.

That he doesn't.

Get back to your engine, you haggis-bashing grease monkey.

Let's understand something crystal clear:

You and your mysterious associates have chartered this ship...

but I am the captain.

And from the time of the Vikings down to this age of the atomic submarine...

the captain is law, life, death, personified.

- He's in the hold. - I don't care if he's in aspic.

I will not tolerate you and any of your very petty officers...

interfering in the running of my ship.

- This stowaway... - He's in the hold.

He's part of the cargo and the cargo is my responsibility.

What is that ridiculous-looking cargo of yours anyway?

A contraband Humpty Dumpty?

That is not your concern.

Then further conversation between us appears to be superfluous.

Come along, you fellow.

We've been going around in circles and I pride myself on my navigation.

We'll start again.

- Who are you? - Illya Kuryakin.

Unavoidably at your service.

Oh, ha, so you have a name.

We're making progress. Why are you a stowaway, Kuryakin?

Mr. Kuryakin.

Answer me, Kuryakin. Why'd you stowaway?

Well, on land, I was all at sea.

I, uh...

I thought I would regularize the situation.

Where are you heading for?

Nowhere in particular. I'm just getting away.

From what?

Well, you forgive me, but I'm afraid that's none of your business.

Insolent. Insolent now, as well as evasive.

I want a straight, respectful answer.

- Why did you choose this ship? - It reminded me of a poem.

Dirty British coaster With a salt-caked smokestack

Butting through the Channel in the mad March days with a cargo...

So you know Masefield.

Of Tyne coal, road-rails, pig lead, Firewood

I trust, Kuryakin, that your love for poetry will help sustain you...

while you face the prosaic fact that a stowaway has to pay for his passage...

and pay heavily.

- Report to the boatswain. - Aye, aye, sir.

Don't be insolent.

The cargo is unharmed.

What did you find out?

He knows Masefield.

And who is Masefield?

A coherent conversation with you is quite out of the question.

To John Masefield...

poet laureate of England.

I'd like to talk to Miss Janus.

Uh, so does every other man in the Far East, sir.

Maybe she'll make an exception in my case.

On second thought, I'm sure she will see you.

If you'd like to wait, it's the second door to the right, sir.

- Miss Janus? - Professor Powers.

Here, this will make you feel better.

I hope so.

Tsk, tell me, is it customary in Thrush...

for you to drop your business associates through trapdoors?

- Business associates? - Uh-huh.

How do I know for sure you're Professor Powers?

Yes, the search for identity, it is the problem of our age, isn't it?

Oh, you did arrive on time, but then that's not enough proof.

Oh, that's no proof at all.

I arrived two days early.

Hmm. Well, you pass that test. But why did you arrive so early?

Rumor has it that you're more desirable than any female has a right to be.

And since I'm a scientist, rumor isn't enough.

Visual evidence is necessary.

And I would like you to know that you've passed that test already.

Hmm. Welcome, professor.

Mm, I really am very sorry about your reception...

but then we can't take any chances.

None at all?

You're much younger than I expected.

I was a child prodigy.

- Professor. - When do we take off?

- To rendezvous with the ship? - Mm-hm.

Oh, don't worry, we have some time to kill.

Well, leave us not waste it.

Time and tidal wave wait for no man.

Or woman.

- It's awfully hot, isn't it, captain? - What do you expect in the tropics?

The stowaway, what did you do with him?

Put him to work. He's to let me know as soon as he sees an iceberg.

Talk, you arrogant scum.

I know the loathsome self-pitying history of every social outcast aboard.

Who are you to keep your secret from me?

Who are you? What are you? Kuryakin!

Mr. Kuryakin, Mr. Kuryakin...

Oh, he's delirious. Cool him off.

Oh, dear, it's made a mess of the deck.

Swab it, my stubborn stowaway.

Swab it till it's as dry as your wit.

Then, by way of contrast, report to the engine room.

- I was told to report to you. - I expected as much.

Hank.

- This is Mr... - Kuryakin.

Kuryakin, a stowaway.

But a man to be treated with respect, like all creatures.

Hank here will show you the ropes.

Glad to know you.

Ugh.

Man, I don't envy you.

- Why? Isn't this a happy ship? - Happy?

Food's lousy, pay is worse.

We got a skipper that will make Captain Bligh look like a bleeding heart.

Crew's been talking mutiny ever since I been aboard.

Only trouble is, we're a bunch of followers without a leader.

- Won't he do? - Scotty?

Won't he fill the bill?

Oh, he could lead us all right if he wanted to, but he doesn't want to.

All he cares about is his engine. He's in love with that engine.

Scotty's not like the rest of us.

He could walk off this floating sweatshop any time...

greet the fuzz hello, solid citizen, nothing to fear.

Ain't none of the rest of us can do that.

But he stays.

Maybe he's too old to get another ship.

Scotty just can't leave. In love with an engine.

Don't understand him.

Who's asking you to understand anything but the need to keep yon gear greased?

Don't blow your stack, daddy. Leave that to your engine.

You two mind your work. I'll mind the engine.

- There she goes again. - Hank.

Huh?

Are there any explosives on board?

Sure. Captain Morton.

- Hank. - Yeah, yeah.

You're more full of questions than the back room of a station house.

- Where are we headed? - Sealed orders.

That's the way this tub travels, 10 times out of 10.

Sealed orders in Captain Morton's safe.

- Hank. - What now?

Do you have a rag?

Oh, that was nice.

Sort of makes me hate to go.

Go?

Well, I have to work for a living, you know.

A place called the Fiery Dragon. Remember?

Oh, yes. The... With the trapdoor, I'll go along with you.

Oh, I'm sorry, dear, but business before pleasure, hmm?

You read some magazines.

What are you doing here, Kuryakin?

This is officers' country. Why aren't you below?

Well, it was such a lovely night, so I thought I'd take a walk.

I'll get a respectful answer from you yet. Get in.

Had a good day, Kuryakin?

Mr. Kuryakin.

When it comes to terms of address...

Mr. Kuryakin, you don't know to whom you're talking.

You dare to bear contempt for me.

"Captain Rupert Oliver Morton, Royal Navy...

hereby accused by general court-martial of misappropriating the men's rum ration.

How plead you?"

Not guilty.

Not guilty.

Not...

Not guilty.

Not guilty.

Me, a Morton, court-martialed.

Why, the very seabed heaved in protest...

the salt-cleansed bones of generations of Mortons.

Royal Navy men from the founding of the fleet...

those bones stirred in helpless, disbelieving anger.

Lieutenant.

I know you now. I knew something.

You look like him, the young lieutenant...

the one officer who spoke up for me at my court-martial.

Gentlemen...

the charge leveled against me is patently absurd.

Well-documented, substantiated by a conspiracy of perjuring forgers...

but transparently ludicrous.

The real charge has not, indeed cannot be substantiated...

because as my loyal witness has testified...

the unspoken indictment has been brought against me...

by a cabal of mutinous traitors.

Traitors to the concept of discipline.

Do you hear me, Mortons resting in the deep?

Do you hear and understand?

The old boozer's baring his soul.

Yeah. You better go tell the boss.

Yeah, If I'm not back in an hour, throw out a net.

When I came back after they had considered their verdict...

the point of the sword was toward me.

That means guilty.

And I was out of the Royal Navy.

If only they had plunged that sword...

deep into...

I think you better get some sleep, captain.

Come and lie down.

Thank you, lieutenant.

You stood by me, lieutenant.

I shall never forget...

You are accused by these people...

of attempting to rob my safe last night.

How plead you?

Well, how did you plead, captain?

How dare you!

Help, help!

It's happened, as I warned you.

Yon engine's had it! It's gonna blow, blow us all to glory.

Get him up. Take care of that arm.

Where are you going?

Where do you think I'm going?

He's a key man, captain.

All right.

Very heroic, I'm sure, but it doesn't alter the fact...

that your stowaway is a common safecracker.

Sir, Mr. Kuryakin is at hazard attempting to save this ship...

which includes your valuable cargo and your far-from-priceless skin.

One more word of criticism from you and you will sent down there...

..to join him, sir.

Well done. Well done, sir. Well done.

Mr. Kuryakin, I thank you, sir. We all thank you.

Right.

As to that other trifling matter, it was a mistake, was it not?

You and I know that grave accusations are frequently mistakes.

So it was a mistake.

Now, if you will be so kind as to remove these accoutrements and accompany me.

I still don't know your history, Mr. Kuryakin.

Possibly, I never will. But that's of no consequence.

My instinctive judgment has been vindicated.

You are, without doubt, several cuts above the average.

You're too kind.

Kind?

I have never been accused of that before.

Humph.

You have spirit, sir, a quality long since rooted out...

from amongst the lost and frightened souls that make up my crew.

You have thus earned far more than the right to cringe in shelter.

Mr. Kuryakin.

You are to be my first mate.

- Oh, captain, I'm not the man, I have... - It is settled.

Aye, aye, sir.

Mm, don't you anticipate and relish the exercise...

of naked power over the entire world?

What would I do with power?

Flood one city, you've flooded them all.

Mm.

But wouldn't you be just a little disappointed...

if we can't give a city or two your tidal-wave treatment?

Uh-uh.

I mean, if the world just tamely submits and pays off?

Not really. I'm a simple man.

We've still got some time left before we go.

- Mm-hm. - Let's not waste it now. No questions.

Don't you even wanna know where we're going, hmm?

Well, I gave your people a list of geophysically suitable locations.

- I'm sure they've selected one. - Mm-hm.

That's right.

Which island?

- I can't tell you. - Oh.

No, not for anything in this world or on this divan, Mr. Solo.

Professor Powers, I presume.

Should I say that I knew that you knew, and you knew that I knew that you knew...

or would that sound like somebody playing a nose flute?

Hmm, the next most significant music you're going to hear, Mr. Solo...

is from a harp.

It's almost 10:00. Time to open the sealed orders.

When next you seek admission, knock.

I demand to be present when you open those orders.

- Demand? - And he should not be present.

Captain, your illusions about this man are almost pathological.

- Mr. Kuryakin. - Yes, sir.

Be kind enough to throw this fellow out...

against the skull-crackingest bulkhead you can find.

That won't be necessary.

You'll regret this.

They, whoever they are, charter my ship, then they think they own me. Blast them.

Never a voyage without one of their whey-faced lackeys aboard...

and so-called extra officers.

But I don't knuckle down to them, Mr. Kuryakin, and neither should you.

Nevertheless, it, uh, is time for you to open your sealed orders.

Ah. Yeah.

"Steer due east.

When you reach 14 degrees north and 113 degrees east...

anchor off the first island in your path. Deliver cargo ashore in longboat.

Use utmost caution."

Simple enough.

Some of the routes they've given me...

are like going through Hampton Court Maze.

Tell the helmsman.

Oh-ho-ho, no, sir.

I beg your pardon?

Oh, what's that? A pawnbroker's credit card?

No, sir. It's a law enforcement agency. U.N.C.L.E.

- Law enforcement? - Yes, sir. You see...

I see, Mr. Kuryakin. Indeed, I see.

Did you or did not attempt to rob that safe?

- Oh, yes, I did. But let me tell you why. - A spy.

That unsuckled pig of a passenger is right. You're a spy.

Yes, but let me tell you about your cargo.

- I treat you as a son. - Captain Morton.

I offered you my inheritance, my very command.

Fraud! Ingrate! Traitor!

- Traitor! - Captain, you're being used by Thrush.

- Smoke? - No, thanks.

Anything I can bring you?

You're taking a big enough chance just coming to see me.

You took a chance for us, plugging the steam leaks.

You're a big man, Mr. Kuryakin.

Do you think I'm big enough to lead you?

- Do you mean it? - Try me.

- You'll do as I say. - You'll not order me about.

- I'm not one of your sea slaves, captain. - You don't understand.

That lad's in irons, I ken that fine. And I want him released, you ken that.

- MacPherson, don't push me too far. - And I say the same thing to you.

What will you do, sabotage the engine until you get your own way?

You know I cannot do that, ever.

No.

You're a fortunate man.

You have something to believe in, to love, despite its imperfections.

Be secure in that belief, don't meddle in matters beyond your comprehension.

Mutiny. That's the plan.

I'm not gonna beat about the bush or ask for a vote.

You've been pushed around long enough and hard enough to know what it's all about.

There's only one way to stop the pushing and that's mutiny.

Yeah. Yeah. Mutiny, yeah.

Mutiny according to the plan.

You do your part and I'll take care of Morton.

- He's not to be harmed. - We're with you, captain.

Cool it, Hank. I'm not your captain. I never could be.

Only two things I want out of this:

Access to the hold, and this ship headed back for Hong Kong.

You've got it. Rights boys?

We'll need weapons.

Captain don't allow no guns on board, didn't you know that?

Got one for you too. Right, Happy?

Man your stations.

Come on. Come on. Let's go. Come on, boys.

Come on, let's go. Come on.

Uh, the boiler needs tending.

Baby will have to wait for its feed, Scotty.

Mutiny. I can smell mutiny and it's a noisome stench always.

Scotty.

No good will come out of it. Believe me. No good ever comes of violence.

- I've seen this kind of thing and it's... - Necessary.

Violence is never necessary and always evil.

Aw, come on. What the use?

Scotty's an old cheek-turner from way back.

- Just stay out the way, pops. - No, wait.

Scotty's entitled to an explanation, and so are you.

This ship is carrying a special kind of machine.

And a lot of innocent people are gonna get more than their feet wet if it's used.

And these people mean to use it.

If it's the machine you want, go for that. Smash it to bits. I'll go with you.

You wouldn't get closer to it than a temperance worker to Captain Morton.

Two of those men are guarding it in the hold.

We have to take the ship, Scotty.

That will force them out into the open and leave the machine unguarded.

There's no other way.

You've done well. Here's a little something for your trouble.

Now, one more thing, I want you to go down to the hold...

tell my two men to meet me up at the wheelhouse, immediately.

- Do you understand? - Sure.

Get behind the stack.

Soon as Kuryakin takes care of the old man, we rush the bridge.

I'm taking over, captain. You're under arrest.

What...?

I beg your pardon?

- You are arresting me? - Oh, it's traditional in a mutiny.

Mutiny? Are you out of your mind? Mutiny?

My dear daring Mr. Kuryakin, don't you know that you can hang?

Could be.

Whatever the case, I'm going to have to lock you in here.

Mr. Kurya...

Rescue!

Go.

It's those two jokers from below. They must have been tipped off.

All right. You keep them busy, I'm gonna make a run for that machine.

Plane down!

Plane down off the port bow!

Blast them. They can't hear me with their mutiny.

Cease firing! Airplane down off port bow!

Didn't you hear what I...?

Didn't you hear what I said? I said, hard aport.

Get out, you old fool. You're through.

- Give me that wheel. - Get out!

There may be survivors. They have to be picked up.

I'm warning you.

Sir, I happen to be captain of this ship...

Plane down. Plane down.

What you do to me, sir, is of no consequence.

But I beg of you, code of the sea and so forth...

change course, search for survivors.

I beg of you, Mr. Kuryakin.

Well, give the order. It's your ship.

Hard aport!

Well, you heard what your captain said.

I thought...

I thought, perhaps, maybe I'd indulge in a wee bit of violence.

I hope you didn't mind the noise.

- It was music to our ears, Scotty. - Thank you, sir.

So happy to have had the opportunity, sir, of picking you up.

- Thank you. - And as for you, Mr. Kuryakin...

should you ever decide to make a life on the ocean deep for yourself...

I will most certainly get in touch with you, captain.

Get a haircut.

Oh, this is Mr. Waverly of the U.N.C.L.E.

This is Captain Morton of the O.C.E.A.N.

- Delighted to meet you, sir. - An honor, Mr. Waverly.

Were there any other survivors?

I'm afraid not. We've just called off the search.

Oh, I have something for you, gentlemen.

What is this?

New suits. You both seem to be in need of one.

We keep their measurements on file.

These Hong Kong tailors are extremely adept.

Splendid organization, U.N.C.L.E.

Reminds me of the Royal Navy.

Oh, would you care to work for us, captain?

Oh.

I fear me my references are not of the best.

- You see, I... WAVERLY: Oh, that's all been set right.

The Lords of the Admiralty, at my suggestion, have reviewed your case.

The verdict has been set aside.

You are now officially Captain Rupert Oliver Morton...

Royal Navy, retired.

- With full back pay? - And pension rights?

The young. Mercenary, aren't they?

Well, now, sir, how about that job with us?

I'm deeply grateful, Mr. Waverly.

Thank you.

Well...

I seem to have developed a sentimental attachment...

to this dirty British coaster.

Ha-ha-ha. Sentimental me.

That calls for a celebration.