All language subtitles for The Counterfeit Traitor (Seaton, George 1962)_BDRip.720p.x264.AAC_EN

There are times when it's not pleasant
to see your picture in the paper.

This was one of them.

The article was direct and to the point.

It said that Cordell Hull, the secretary
of state for the United States,

had released a list
of certain Swedish citizens

who had been giving economic aid
and comfort to the Axis powers.

In other words, I was considered
a Nazi collaborator.

I had been trading with Germany.

There was no secret about it.

I'd been importing oil for years
from all over the world.

That was my business.

And even now with the war on,
there was nothing illegal about it.

Sweden was neutral
and traded with both sides.

When I went to my office that
morning, I received a call

from a friend of my brother's who
was in Stockholm on business.

He was staying at the Grand Hotel.
I went over.

I knew the blacklist would be
printed in the American papers,

and it was sure to embarrass my
brother and parents

who lived in New York.

I wanted to explain
a few things to this man

so that he could take
back my side of the story.

The lobby of the Grand was a busy place.

Like Lisbon and Istanbul
and other neutral cities,

Stockholm was crowded with what
were euphemistically called "visitors".

They came from every country

and babbled away
in a dozen different tongues.

Some were there to buy Swedish
ball bearings and Bofors guns,

and the rest were espionage
agents trying their best

to see that the shipments
never reached their destinations.

Come in, come in.

Sorry not to have finished, I slept late.

- Let me take your things.
- I'll put them here, thanks.

- May I offer you something?
- No, thank you.

Please sit down.

- You're British.
- Have been for years.

You didn't sound it on the phone.

I didn't call.

Cigarette?

Thank you.

- How's that brother of mine?
- I really don't know.

You see, I've never met your brother.

Oh, I say, this is a delicious bit of bacon.

You must forgive me for using
the "friend of the family" approach.

I didn't want you to tell anyone
you were coming

to meet a stranger on business
you knew nothing about.

Who are you?

I'm one of the few so-called
intelligence agents

who's not in the lobby at the moment.

But, so far as the hotel, immigration
and taxi drivers are concerned,

I'm here to buy special steel products.

Please remember that,
in case anyone should ask you.

Now that I'm here, what do you want?

Why, you're in a bit of a mess
over this blacklist, aren't you?

I'm a Swedish citizen. Sweden is neutral.

She trades with both sides.

Every drop of oil I import is turned
over to the Swedish government.

Every ton has been contracted for.

And that's what they refuse to understand.

You don't know too much
about my background but...

I think I do. You were born in New York...

He knew things about me
that even I'd forgotten.

And he ticked them
off like a telegraphic report.

Graduated Cornell.

Oil salesman, Yokohama and Shanghai.

Transferred to Stockholm, 1927.

Started my own business, 1929.

Largest importer
of German oil in Scandinavia.

When I tried to explain the reason
for doing business with Germans,

he cut me off short.

I'm not here to debate your case.
I'm here to ask you one question:

Would you like to get off the blacklist?

Well, naturally.

I think I can arrange that.
Provided you cooperate.

Not now, of course. When the war is over,

you'll be given a clean bill
of health, retroactively.

You're from US Intelligence?

No, not... Not really.

I'm sort of lend-lease in reverse,
if you know what I mean.

Since I've had more
experience in recruiting,

they thought it best that
I had a go at you.

Besides, the Americans
don't seem to trust you very much.

And for the oddest of reasons.

Simply because you gave
up US citizenship in 1930.

When I decided to spend
the rest of my life here,

I thought it only decent
to become a Swedish subject.

Of course.
Are you interested, Mr. Erickson?

That all depends.

- What do I have to do?
- Oh, nothing much really.

Just a businessman
keeping his eyes and ears open.

You know more about German
oil than anyone in Sweden.

And you travel back and forth on business.

Occasionally.

You're making a trip tomorrow, I believe.

Baron von Oldenbourg,
of the German Oil Commission,

- is an old friend of yours.
- That's right.

You may be able to pick up some
useful information here and there.

Now I think I understand
why I was put on the blacklist.

So I'd be forced to cooperate with you.

Oh, now, Erickson.

You don't honestly think
we'd do a thing like that?

Oil will undoubtedly be one
of the deciding factors of this war.

When they can't put planes in the air
or tanks into the field, it'll be the end.

You might be able to help.

Being a Swede, I would be violating
my country's neutrality.

If Swedish Security Police find
out about it, they'd throw me in jail.

And we won't be able to help.

For diplomatic reasons we'll
have to say we never heard of you.

And of course, if the Germans
catch you, they'll shoot you.

So you're asking me to risk
my life to get off a blacklist

that I didn't deserve
to be on in the first place.

It's not a very enviable position, is it?

Collins, I always thought that oil was
a dirty business without scruples.

- But you people are...
- I couldn't care less what you think.

Fortunately, in this work,
people don't have to love each other.

My job is information, and in order
to get it, I will deal with thieves, liars,

procurers, traitors, sluts, the lot.

I really don't care if you're Goebbels' half
brother or if you sell heroin for a living.

You just bring back the information,
and we'll get along splendidly.

Let's leave it that way.

Tell them you got me in a vice and
I'm going along to save my business.

Good.

We'll see you after this trip, then we
decide where we go from there.

Any questions?

No.

Yes, one.

How does a person
get to be so cold-blooded?

Watching German planes bomb
London helps enormously.

Well, what do you think?

How do we know he won't go
to German legation and tell them?

We don't.

It'd be a perfect spot
for high-class double-dealing.

That's why I wanted that recording.

If he tries to work both sides of the street,

you can have that fall into the hands
of the Swedish Security Police.

Now I can eat in comfort.

The next day,
I flew to Berlin to see the baron.

I'd been there many times
since the war began,

but this trip was different.

Now that I had something to hide,
I felt every passenger staring at me,

that every gun was trained on me,

and every man in uniform was suspicious.

The baron was there to meet me.

After dropping my bag at the hotel,
he took me to dinner at Wannsee.

You can expect to hear that your
imports will be cut even more.

Baron von Oldenbourg?

Frau Möllendorf. A pleasant surprise.

How nice to see you again.

May I present an old
and dear friend, Eric Erickson.

- How do you do?
- Are you alone? Will you join us?

No, I'm meeting
General Bacher and his wife.

- But I seem to be a few minutes early.
- Then please wait here.

- May I offer you some sherry or...?
- No. No, thank you.

Erickson? You must be Swedish.

Yes. From Stockholm. I just arrived.

And will you be with us long?

Afraid I have to leave tomorrow morning.

Oh, that's a pity. Just now
when the weather's so good.

I wish I could say
the same for my business.

I have just had the unpleasant
task of telling Mr. Erickson

that our petroleum exports
are going to have to be reduced.

Oh, but I'm certain that's only temporary.

The moment the Russians
are whipped, and that can't be long,

the führer will be generous
with Sweden again.

Would you mind coming to Stockholm
and telling my investors that?

But surely, your countrymen
are more than willing

to make such a small
sacrifice to beat Russia.

After all, she's been your enemy
as well as ours for a long...

Oh, here they are.

Sorry to have interrupted
your little business conversation.

Not at all. It's the most pleasant
moment I've had since I arrived.

Well, perhaps when you come
to Berlin again, we'll have another talk.

Looking forward to it.

Good evening.

Sorry, Eric.

She and her husband are...

She gets around quite a bit.

In Germany today, it's wise
to be nice to such a person.

You never know into whose ear
she'll be whispering next.

I'm sorry about your oil, Eric.

Well, I know if there's
anything to be done, you'd do it.

The shortages in the coming year
are going to be more acute

than anyone is willing to admit.

I'm doing a survey now on
the possibility of building refineries

in Italy and France.

But the only trouble is, they'd
be more open to bombings

and sabotage than our own.

Suddenly, a solution occurred
to me. The baron was interested.

If they wanted bombproof refineries,

what about building
one in a neutral country?

Sweden.

The moment I got back to
Stockholm, I told the plan to Collins,

who immediately spotted the one big flaw.

The Swedish government would never approve.

It would hardly be considered
a neutral act by the Allies.

That's the weakness.

And von Oldenbourg pounced on it.

Maybe you could arrange for the
Allies not to object too strenuously.

How far do you think you could
nurse this along before it'd collapse?

Oh, with discussion
of finance and construction,

I'd say...

5 or 6 more trips.

Provided the German
officials here in Stockholm

don't torpedo the idea from the start.

Since I'm American-born,
they don't trust me...

any more than you do.

No.

Perhaps you might have to spend time

in developing a little character...
or the lack of it.

What I mean to say is this,
that now that you are on the blacklist,

wouldn't it be logical to express
your anger and indignation

by beginning to say some
nasty things about the Allies?

And from there, the Germans
wouldn't be too surprised

if you gradually became pro-Nazi.

The people who know me
would never believe it.

You wouldn't be the first businessman
to let profit color his politics.

The best friend I have is a Jew.

Max Gumpel.

For a time, you'll hurt one Jew deeply.

You might help save the lives of thousands.

You'll be hated for a while, no doubt
about that. You'll be a quisling.

And you'll just have to live with it.
You won't be able to tell anyone.

Not even my wife?

This is more than I bargained for.

I know. That's the trouble
with this sort of work.

The simplest little thing
often leads to such complications.

- When do you have to know?
- I take the plane to London tonight.

The Americans take over from here.

Heavens, I'll have to rush.

Don't become pro-Nazi too fast, Erickson.

Handle it slowly and subtly.

I haven't said I'd do it yet.

Oh, but I think you will.

You see, we have a most interesting recording
of you accepting our first proposition.

Cheerio.

There wasn't much choice now.

It was either go along or go to jail.

The next night I invited
my closest friend, Max Gumpel,

to have dinner with my wife and me.

If I could get by them, the chances
were I could convince others.

I started by ranting about
the unfairness of the blacklist

and then tried
my first anti-British remark.

We like to feel that Sweden
is free and neutral, but she's not.

I hate to say it, but we're occupied

just as surely as Denmark and Norway.

Not by German military.

By Allied officials.

Eric, I know how angry you must be,

but don't talk like that.

Max.

These men are determined
to capture us economically.

Watch and see.
England will involve us in this.

Ingrid was merely surprised,
but Max was hurt.

I hated to do it to him,
but apparently he believed me,

and that was the most important thing.

Now I began to drop remarks here
and there with associates and friends.

Nothing too obvious at first.

That Germany was only trying to recover

what had been stolen from
her at Versailles and Locarno.

As months went by, I kept hammering away

at Churchill's treatment of the French.

I took my time

but never lost an opportunity to drop
a little poison whenever I could.

Friends began avoiding me,
and I was alone most of the time.

I didn't try to contact
the German Embassy crowd.

I figured, sooner or later, they'd hear
about my attitude and try to woo me.

And they did...

and eventually offered me a membership

in the Swedish-German chamber of commerce.

At one of the weekly meetings,

I made a speech paraphrasing an
editorial from a German newspaper.

And someday, even those
countries who now oppose him

will realize who their true
enemy really is.

And then they'll join the Third Reich,

in a combined front
against international exploitation

and racial degeneration.

Thank you.

Remember Ulrich and I are here

as representatives of the Third Reich
to help Swedish businessmen.

So if you have any problems,
please call on us.

- Thank you. Good night.
- Good night.

Good night.

- Oh, excellent speech, Eric.
- Yes, good.

Very much like an editorial
I read in the Frankfurter Zeitung.

Have you had a chance
to study my letter on the refinery?

Yes. I feel it has great possibilities
if certain questions can be answered.

And I have the first question.

Are you planning this to help
the Third Reich or to help yourself?

Well, I admit that personal gain
has a great deal to do with it.

National Socialism is sacrifice, not profit.

And business is profit, not sacrifice.

It's amazing how well the two get
along together if they have to.

I hate opportunists.

Whether they are Swedish or German.

Heil Hitler.

On behalf of my government, my apologies.

His beer-hall manners are disgusting.

He should have a job requiring
muscles rather than brains.

I'm working on just that.

Without consulting me, he
requested a transfer to Copenhagen.

Without consulting him, I demanded it.

He can wear a uniform.
That should make him happy.

He was born distrustful.

But I must say, in this case he has reason.

To retain 50 percent
of the stock for yourself

makes you appear rather greedy.

Permissions are going to be costly.

I am reserving many shares
for... helpful friends.

Why don't we have a drink,
play bridge and talk it over.

Good.

Willy, this is the fifth time in
a row that I've done the paying.

And for 3,000 crowns, you'd better
write a glowing letter to Berlin for me.

- Hello.
- Hello.

We're in here. It's been a long time.

The last six months have...

I thought we'd managed to lose you.

London felt that since you
and I hit it off so well at the start,

I ought to run this little show.
I must say I'm delighted.

The food in England these days is ghastly.

Well, it's good to see you, Red.

- Red?
- Yes.

Your code name from now on.

He's Memphis and I'm Dallas.

Don't ask me why.

Anything less like a Texan
you couldn't imagine.

It sounds rather cloak-and-daggerish,
but it's necessary.

Fix yourself a drink.

I hear you've done a smashing job.

Even the little children hate you.

Yes.

I've lost most of my friends.

Been dropped from every club
except Book-of-the-Month.

Good.

Your refinery.

What do they call those things
now in the advertising business?

Visual presentation, that's it.

The Germans admire
thoroughness. It might help.

It looks so good I might
even invest in it myself.

But London thinks we ought
to protect ourselves on this,

in case they turn you down.

In order to assure a flow of information,

they feel that on this coming trip,

you ought to recruit some friends
in the German oil industry.

I agreed to take the personal risks,

but I am not going to put
anybody else in jeopardy!

Many of your German friends
went along with Hitler

because it was good business.

They thought it would be a quick war
and they'd profit by it.

They might, as you did, be willing
to pay the price of cooperation

in order to buy protection
for themselves after the war.

- You'll guarantee that protection?
- Definitely.

What about your friend
Otto Holtz in Hamburg?

He runs a refinery, doesn't he?

Yes, he's a possibility.

London will select somebody in Berlin.

I leave day after tomorrow.

If it doesn't come through by then,
our agent will contact you there.

Don't tell me I'm going
to meet a little old lady

wearing a beard in some dark alley.

If someone should find an excuse
to use your handkerchief

and return it to your pocket like this...

you'll know you've made contact.

Three points showing.

Just a businessman keeping
his eyes and ears open.

Oh, Red.

Are you in good physical condition?

We just want to make sure
you won't collapse on us.

I had my yearly checkup at the clinic
a few days ago. Anything else?

- No.
- What about these?

Oh, we'll see that they get to you.
Just... good luck, Red.

And... do be careful.

Your sudden concern for my safety

touches me deeply.

Have the chap at the clinic
get his dental x-rays for us.

I got them this afternoon.

This one of the bilaterals
on the right side was the best.

During the months before,
I had written regularly to the baron,

keeping him excited about the
possibility of the refinery in Sweden.

Now, loaded down with the fraudulent charts

and a briefcase full of forged
documents, I flew back to Berlin.

The baron had to put
in an appearance at a reception

for a Japanese trade
commission, and I went along.

It was a chance to meet
Albert Speer, Herman Goering

and Joseph Goebbels,
the minister of propaganda.

He was oily and over-polite, and so was I.

There was no telling who might
prove helpful later on.

- A bit young, isn't she, Gerhard?
- That's my tragedy, they all are.

Baron von Oldenbourg. General
Schroeder would like to see you.

Excuse me, Eric.

Frau Möllendorf.

- Mr. Erickson.
- Excuse me, please.

So nice to see you again.

You've come back on a happy day.

The news from the eastern front
is most encouraging.

A 50-mile advance into the Caucasus.

Ah, yes.

Now that the Wehrmacht has crossed the Don,

I'm sure that we can look
forward to more glorious victories.

Shall we drink to them?

Here.

Thank you so much.

Thanks.

I think you missed a drop.

Thank you.

No, no, it was so much more
attractive the other way.

Allow me.

I haven't been in Stockholm for years.

Has it changed much?

No, it's still as beautiful as ever.

We seem to be standing
in the center of Martini Street.

Shall we try someplace
with a little less traffic?

- Good evening, general.
- Frau Möllendorf. Good evening.

Good evening.

- Good evening, general.
- Who's that?

You remember, we met her at Albert Speer's.

She's the wife of Friedrich Möllendorf.

Since we'll probably be seeing
each other from time to time,

we'd better establish
a reason for it right now.

The obvious and most acceptable one

is that we immediately found
each other irresistibly attractive.

I don't know how believable
that would be to my German friends.

- You see, I'm married.
- So am I.

Unfortunately, that's exactly
what will make it credible.

Glance around.

In Berlin today, there's a feeling
of almost desperate urgency,

which somehow
seems to settle in the glands.

Now, if you could capture
some of that urgency,

I have something to tell you.

- How's this?
- Oh, now there's candlelight

and champagne in your eyes.

And your smile has just
the right amount of lechery.

Do I look convincing?

Convincing? You look convinced.

Now, I'm told you're here
to recruit some of the oil officials.

Whom did you have in mind?

Werner Albricht. But London said no.

Oh, they're so right.

Werner Albricht has
been currying favor lately.

It would be quite a feather
in his cap to turn you in.

No, no, no. Your best bet

is the man you came with this evening.

- The baron?
- Smile.

Well, he's as patriotic as Wagner.

With a name that goes back even further.

His family means everything to him.
He'd do anything to protect them.

That's why he can't refuse you.

I couldn't do that.
He's one of my oldest friends.

I know.

There are many things I've had to do

that I can't explain to my conscience.

- Frau Möllendorf.
- Baron von Oldenbourg.

I should have warned you,

this man has as many conquests
to his credit as Genghis Khan.

If you hadn't interrupted,
I might have been one ahead.

If we don't get out of here,

I'm going to have to explain
the Fischer-Tropsch process

to the Japanese delegation.

Would you join us for dinner?

I'm sorry, I'm with friends.

- Oh, I'm so sorry. Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

- Goodbye, Mr. Erickson.
- Goodbye.

I hope I'll see you again soon.

Now, Gerhard. Assuming I could get

approval of the Swedish government,

you think your oil commission would
be interested in exploring the idea?

Yes.

I think they would be very interested.

How much do you figure it would cost?

Not a penny.

I have no intention of building a refinery.

All I want is a sound, legitimate
reason to travel to and from Germany.

I'm working for the Allies, Gerhard.

Eric.

Sometimes friendship makes me deaf.

I didn't hear what you just said.

Please leave now.

And don't contact me again.

I can't.

I'm here to ask you to work with me.

I wouldn't do that.

Remember, you have a son
in a Russian prison camp.

All they'd have to do is send a message.

I'm not a Nazi, Eric.

You know that.

But at the moment, they are Germany...

and I am a German.

Don't ask me to betray my country.

You're their choice, not mine.

I have to do it because
they've got me in a vise too.

I'm sorry, Gerhard.

It's a stinking, rotten business.

He was trapped.

There was nothing
he could do but cooperate.

He called a meeting of the oil
commission, explained the project

and suggested that the commission
meet with me periodically

and keep abreast of any
future developments.

When the members nodded agreement,

I knew I'd be making
weekly visits to Berlin,

and that's all I wanted.

I had expected opposition
from the man next to me,

who was a Gestapo colonel
in charge of Scandinavian countries,

but he went along
without too many questions.

Later in his office, though,
he called Kortner in Stockholm,

just to check on me firsthand.

Kortner assured him
that I was trustworthy, loyal

and that the refinery plan
had great possibilities.

Kortner's enthusiasm, of course,
was based mainly on larceny.

A little graft, it seemed,

could open more doors than a passkey.

Colonel Nordoff and I had a pleasant chat.

When it came time for me to leave,
I felt I could ask an important favor.

Oh, one more thing.

I was wondering if on my return
trip I could go via Hamburg.

I'd like to say hello to Otto Holtz,
old friend of mine.

You seem to have many
friends in the oil business.

Oil is a fraternity.

You've been in it for a while,
you know all the members.

I think it can be arranged.

Please.

- Thank you, you've been very kind.
- Thank you.

It's comforting to know that we
have such loyal Swedish friends.

- Goodbye.
- Goodbye.

Have him put under surveillance.

Express train to Hamburg
departing 8:10 on track 11.

Train to München departing 8:20 on track 6.

The trip was slow and uncomfortable.
We were sidetracked a dozen times.

It gave me a chance to see
the condition of the rolling stock.

By the time we pulled
into the main station in Hamburg,

I'd been able to make mental notes
on troop trains and marshaling yards.

I hadn't found out too much about oil yet,

but I was picking up other bits of
information that might prove valuable.

Otto!

You didn't have to come to meet me.

Those are the people I like to meet,
the ones I don't have to.

I even brought an honor guard.

My son, Hans.

- Hello, Hans.
- Heil Hitler!

Herr Gunderscharf.
Please contact the stationmaster.

There's a message for you.

I had never been to Otto's new home.

After his first wife died,

we'd always gotten together
in his office or my hotel room.

When I met his second wife, I understood.

Klara was not someone to be proud of.

She flaunted her sex,
was tawdry and rather stupid.

I wondered why he ever married her.

And then I found out.

How long have you been married?

Eleven years, but for Hans' sake,
we say 12.

Papa! Papa!

I heard just now on the radio
that 6 people here in Hamburg

were arrested for treason.

- Jews?
- No, Germans.

A boy in our class does treason.

- What are you talking about?
- It's true, Papa.

Every morning, our teacher says,
"God strike England."

And we answer all together, "He will."

Well, this boy Klaus does not say it.
I watched him.

He opens his mouth and makes movements,

but he doesn't say it.

Maybe his father and mother
like the English.

That's ridiculous, Hans.

The boy's probably just daydreaming.

No.

I think soon I must report
him and his parents.

You'll do nothing of the sort!
Go to your room!

Otto, you must not discourage the boy.

If he really has such an idea,
it's his duty to report it.

Klara, Klara.

What are you teaching him?
The boy will grow up to be...

If they're guilty, they should
be taken. If they're not,

no harm will be done to them.

In either case, it's good for Hans' record.

My Jugendführer
said if I report things like that,

I will get the star for my uniform.

Ah, your Jugendführer is a...

Go on, go on.

We'll talk about it later.

Mr. Erickson and I have
some business to discuss now.

Eric.

- You mind if we talk in the garden?
- Of course not.

After dinner is the only time
I have to work on my vegetables.

I'll get my old clothes on.

Otto was not hard to recruit,
but difficult to satisfy.

He didn't want any money, but he
insisted on some kind of document

stating that he was
cooperating with the Allies.

I tried to dissuade him but he...

No.

When the Allies march into Hamburg,

I want something
I can take to headquarters.

I'm sorry, Otto, I can't do it.
It's too risky.

It's the only way I'll cooperate.

Papa.

You think about it tonight.

I'll meet you in my office in the morning.

- At the refinery.
- No, my office in town.

Come about 10. I have an appointment first.

Mama says you should come in now.

You'll catch cold.

- What are you doing sitting out here?
- Just changing my shoes.

By the next morning, I had decided
to give Otto the letter he wanted.

It was a death sentence
for both of us if anybody found it.

Otto was willing
to take the risk, and so was I.

On one condition:

I want to be sure that where
you put that is really a safe place.

Eric,

for a long time, I've been
withdrawing money from the bank.

Little by little.

Not enough to create suspicion,

but sufficient to live on for a time
when the war is over.

Somewhere in these cabinets
are 200,000 marks.

If you can find them, you can have them.

What if this building is bombed?

Someone goes through the debris,
finds a piece of paper...

If this building is hit,

the chances are a hundred
to one that it'll catch fire.

And if the office is searched?

They'll break open the safe,

tear up the rug,

smash the desk.

But I doubt if they'll wade
through all these files.

But they might.

They might also find the money.

I might also be arrested... and talk.

I honestly don't know
how I'd react under torture.

Those are risks you have to take, Eric.

Well?

All right.

Wait a minute. This is dated March 5th.

Today is September 5th.

You see, I have to be protected too, Otto.

If tomorrow you should get cold feet

and decide to turn the letter
over to the Gestapo,

they'd wonder why
you held on to it for 6 months.

Otto gave me the two-dollar tour, and
I saw the refinery from top to bottom.

When I got back to Stockholm,
I talked into the recording machine

for what seemed to be hours,
trying to remember every little detail.

During the air raid of August 23rd,

the distillation plant was burned,
but not extensively.

The damage was repaired in 6 hours.

Good. Have those transcribed
and sent up to London right away.

- Good work, Red.
- How about a drink now?

No, thanks.

Red, I was hoping you might come back

a little more enthusiastic
about the Allied cause.

When you force me
to blackmail von Oldenbourg,

one of my closest friends,

don't expect me to whistle
the "Stars and Stripes Forever".

- What about money?
- I'll send you a bill later.

Meanwhile, I want Holtz and
the baron taken care of immediately.

Documents acknowledging their cooperation

will be filed at the legation tomorrow.

Incidentally,
I gave such a document to Holtz.

You did what?

I had to, he wouldn't help otherwise.
It's in a safe place.

Why didn't you file it with the Gestapo?

It'd have saved them
all that trouble of looking for it.

It's awful damned easy for you to sit here

figuring out how brave
and smart I should be.

The only danger you're in
is getting a bad lobster.

All right, I made a mistake.

But if they find that letter,
it's my neck, not yours.

Curious chap.

The most amazing combination
of intelligence and stupidity.

Willy!

Hello, Eric. Welcome back.

Thank you. I was going to call you.

I wanted to tell you about
my conference in Berlin.

Any time. I'll be waiting.

- Your office, 3:00?
- Splendid.

Eric! Where have you been keeping yourself?

I called you a dozen times,
but you never answered.

I would think that
you'd finally get the idea

that I want nothing to do with you
or your propositions.

I don't do business with Jews, Gumpel,
so stop bothering me.

That, I think,
was the loneliest moment of my life.

When other people hate you,
it's unfortunate,

but when you hate yourself,
it's unbearable.

And hurting Max the way I did
filled me with self-contempt.

Of course, news that
I'd publicly insulted him

didn't take long to spread.

My wife called me at the office
and berated me for what I had done.

I went home and tried to mollify her,
but it was hopeless.

I couldn't tell her why I had to do it.

I could only plead rather guiltily
for understanding.

All right, you've made your bed,
but don't expect me to share it.

Dear Eric, I cannot believe
you have changed to this extent.

Your outburst this noontime
only strengthens my conviction

that your conduct
has some special hidden purpose.

Because I trust you implicitly,

I shall consider our friendship
only temporarily interrupted.

If I can ever be of help, let me know.

Every good wish. God bless you. Max.

They seemed greatly interested.

Providing, of course,
I could give them some promise

of Swedish government approval.

Perhaps if you wrote a letter to Nordoff...

I have just one question.

What were you doing
at 20 Stortorget last night?

I'm glad my wife didn't ask that.

Yes, infidelity is difficult to explain...

but not nearly as difficult as espionage.

I have to send that lady some flowers.

She recommended the restaurant.
A lovely place.

I'm amazed at American intelligence
sending two such incompetent men.

But that's not my worry.

My problem is, what do we do with you?

I could turn you over
to the Swedish Security Police,

but I can't see what would
be gained by that. Can you?

I think the best procedure would be

for you to continue to work
for the Americans,

with one slight difference.

The information you bring back
from Germany will be supplied by us.

Have you told Berlin about me yet?

Oh, no. I haven't told anybody yet.

I wanted to talk to you first,
to see if you'd be reasonable.

It's not often we are able to get
an Allied agent working for us.

These are five canceled checks
from me to you.

An Allied agent has paid you
over 20,000 crowns

in the last few months.

I doubt whether the Gestapo
will consider these... gambling losses.

You can destroy them if you want,
they're only Photostats.

The originals, in the meantime,

are in the hands of these two incompetents.

Now, I think you'd better write
that letter to Nordoff,

saying that we've discussed
the refinery plan

and you'll contact the more influential
members of Parliament and...

We can discuss the details later, can't we?

You realize if I'm arrested...

the originals will find their way
to the Gestapo.

So if there are any other members
of your department

who are suspicious of me,

tell them... I'm a real nice fellow.

Oh, Willy.

You didn't honestly think I was
that bad a bridge player, did you?

Kortner was most cooperative.

We collaborated on the letter.
I wrote it and he signed it.

It was a perfect opportunity to move
on to the second phase of my plan.

The letter requested that
I be allowed to make a survey trip

of all the refineries in Germany.

After all, since I was going
to help the Third Reich

by building a refinery in Sweden,

it'd be to their advantage
if I became acquainted firsthand

with all the latest technical developments

and methods of production.

So on my next trip to Berlin,
I went to Gestapo Headquarters

to see Nordoff once again.

He had referred the request
to the Oil Commission.

The baron, who was the chairman,

naturally could do nothing
but recommend it.

With such auspices,

Nordoff was willing to push it up
the ladder for Himmler's approval.

When I got to the hotel later,

I received a cryptic message
telling me to meet a contact

on the embankment of the Spree
River near the Oberbaum Bridge.

Hello...

Well! There hasn't been a welcome like that

since Lindbergh landed in Paris.

Just in...

In case you're being followed.

Keep it up. The whole Gestapo's behind me.

There was someone following me
in the subway, but I think I lost him.

We'd better go.

Is this...?

Now, good evening.

Good evening.

Wagner seems to be popular tonight.

Hitler speaks in a moment.

When they told me to contact you,
they didn't tell me why.

My courier has had to hide out.

And I have some information that must
get back as quickly as possible.

Just a businessman keeping
his eyes and ears open.

Why this place?

Well, if our romance were to be convincing,

we'd better have a rendezvous.
I rented it shortly after we met.

Since we're both married,
I think it's only logical

that we wouldn't want to be seen
in my home or in hotel rooms.

But you're ruining my reputation
for being generous and gallant.

In Berlin today, not even Lothario
could do any better.

Now, if you're ready.

How about a drink before we start?

How about a drink after we're finished?

Now...

The third bomber group is being transferred

from Lesmont in France to Brok in Poland.

Third bomber group

transferred from Lesmont
in France to Brok, Poland.

I can't concentrate with that going on.

Look, I have a visual memory.

If I can write it, I can remember it.
Do you have some paper?

Yes, of course.

Now, third... bomber...

Lesmont... to Brok.

Now, I overheard a senior officer
in the construction corps mention

that just north of Regensburg...

Repeat again.

And the special fuel for
these experimental jet planes

is believed to be manufactured
someplace in northern Germany.

That's all.

Now may I have that drink?

Excuse me.

How should I get rid of these?

You'd better burn them in the sink here.

Although our job
is just to get the information,

not evaluate it,

if they can get those jet planes
in the air in any great numbers,

it might be disastrous.

And fuel is the key to the situation.

Well, that's not our worry.

But we do have one.

In case either of us should
get arrested and questioned,

I think we ought to know a few
intimate details about each other.

Now, for your information,
I have a scar, appendicitis here.

And a birthmark there. Wine-colored.

White or red?

Vin rosé.

Well, I haven't anything
quite as glamorous.

Just a cut on my thigh, which you
probably never noticed in the dim light.

I'm very observing. So is the Gestapo.

What's it look like?

Well, a horse bit me on the a...

Just a bite scar.

Your hair is most attractive.

Is that the natural color?

Yes.

Now, what else should we know
about each other?

Well, although you probably
had the good taste

not to praise your wife in front of me,

I think you would have mentioned her name.

It's Ingrid.

And she doesn't understand you.

Oddly enough, that's true.

They wouldn't let me tell her,

and she couldn't stand the thought
of being unpopular.

She left me just a few days ago.

Oh, I'm sorry.

At least I found out
who trusted me and who didn't.

Now, what about your husband?

His name is Friedrich.

He's a colonel with the
occupation in France.

Well, don't you think that sometime
during our passionate love affair,

you would have told me more than
his name, rank and serial number?

I mean, for my own protection,

I would have found out if he were jealous

and apt to take a shot at me.

No, Friedrich wouldn't care.

Legally, we've been married ten years.

Actually, just about a month.

Very early, he told me
I was one in a million.

And I discovered he was telling the truth.

Why didn't you divorce him?

I'm a Catholic.

It's worked, though.

People take pity on me,

and I'm asked to the best parties,
where I pick up the best information.

Do you mind?

I'm curious.

Ever since I met you,
I wondered what they have on you.

The Allies, I mean.

They've got me handcuffed.

If I don't work for them,
I lose my business.

Oh, I see.

Yes, I have something to lose too.

If I don't help them, I lose my self-respect.

But haven't you ever opposed anything
for the simple reason that it's wrong?

Morally wrong?

Not when my life depended on it.

You've got connections.
You could go to Switzerland, Sweden.

I could, but I can't.

- Well, what's stopping you?
- My faith.

He's the Antichrist, I'm a Christian.

If I don't oppose him,
my religion becomes a mockery.

Your religion also tells you
to love your enemies.

I try to be a Christian,
I never hoped to be a saint.

You don't think hanging that paranoiac
is going to end persecution?

Another greedy psychopath
will come along...

But this is now, and I'm here.
And I must do what I must do.

- And risk your life doing it?
- Yes, if necessary.

You certainly are a businessman,
aren't you?

You look at war in terms
of hundreds of tanks

and thousands of planes
and millions of men,

like some sort of a wrestling match
on a gigantic scale.

Try thinking of it in terms of a single truck

on its way to a concentration camp

and what's shivering inside it.

I feel sorry for those people, deeply sorry.

- I suffer for them.
- But not with them.

That's the difference.

Someday, though, you might.

You'll see a stranger, a complete
stranger, being bullied and beaten.

And suddenly, in an agonizing
moment, he'll become your brother.

I guess I've always been an opportunist.

And the women I've known have been too.

I've never met anyone quite like you.

You're either very foolish or very wise.

I can't decide which.

But I can tell you one thing.

Your husband must be an idiot.

Good night.

After our conference yesterday,
I was exhausted.

I went to bed early.
I'll wager you did the same.

Now, colonel, you know that isn't true.

One of your men followed me
out of the hotel.

- But not very far.
- Yes, he was a bit obvious.

So I managed to lose him in the subway.

You shouldn't have done it.
You hurt his professional pride.

I was on my way to visit a beautiful woman.

I didn't feel it was any of his business.

Frau Möllendorf
is a charming person, isn't she?

And I thought I was being so clever.

The man following you was obvious
because he was supposed to be.

To give you a false sense of security.

You see, there were two men.

You gave the slip to the wrong one.

I was delighted to learn
that your nocturnal prowling

was for the purpose of romance
and not intrigue.

And now, on my recommendation,

Reichsführer Himmler
has approved your inspection tour.

This will allow you access to all refineries.

To avoid suspicion,

I suggested that a team
of technicians go along with me.

Nordoff thought that one man
would be sufficient,

and the baron was selected.

It was comforting to know that
my only watchdog had no teeth.

The baron grew to hate me,
and I certainly couldn't blame him.

But then, one day while we were
touring a small plant near Leipzig,

his attitude changed. And so did mine.

The workers had gone on a sit-down strike.

Who are they?

They are Polish volunteers.

Why do they refuse to work?

They say too long hours and too little food.

You'd better wait upstairs in my office.

If you refuse to work,
I'll hang you, one by one!

Don't misjudge me. I have no mercy!

Now, get back to your posts!

So you are going to test me, are you?

Well, which one of you
is going to go first?

Let me see.

You! Come here.

Help me. Help me. Help me, please!

- Take that man.
- For God's sake, someone help me.

I didn't do anything, I didn't do anything!

I just sat down because I was hungry.

Oh, please, please help me!

I'll go back to work!
I'll go back to work, don't hang me!

Don't hang me, I'll go back to work!

Now, are you going back to work?

No? I'll give you 10 seconds.

1... 2... 3...

Strange.

You can read about a hundred atrocities,

hear about a thousand,

but you only have to see one.

And suddenly... he becomes your brother.

So far, I have cooperated because I had to.

Now I do it willingly.

So do I.

They want me to find out

where you're manufacturing
and storing fuel for those jets.

I'll find out.

And every place we went, it was the same.

Factories, refineries, railroads.

All beginning to show the effects
of the bombing.

Did you drive through Regensburg?

What was left of it.

I hear the raid was very successful.

The chemical plants
were completely destroyed.

So was a school and 120 children.

- Well, those things can't be helped.
- That doesn't console me.

I provided the information
on those chemical plants.

- And so did ten others, I'm sure.
- I don't care if there were a thousand.

I am partly responsible
for killing those children.

And maybe partly responsible
for shortening the war.

Don't you think I've told myself that?

Don't you think I've tried to rationalize
what I'm doing in every possible way?

But even a good end
does not justify evil means.

You were willing to give
your life to that end.

I still am, but the lives of others
are not mine to give.

All the convictions I have, you gave me.

And because of them,
I'm willing to live with fear.

And now I find out that you have doubts.

I discovered there's something
worse than fear.

There's guilt.

- But you must have known...
- First, it was quite impersonal.

I relayed names, dates and conversations,

and I knew somewhere, sometime,
somebody was going to act upon them,

but I never foresaw
that gnawing feeling of...

All casualties go to the church!

Father, is there anything we can do?

It's very kind, but I don't think so.

Yes, you could take these
and make sure they're warm.

Doctor?

When you get back to Stockholm,

will you have them send word
to London that I must stop?

I've got to give it up.

Why, because it's un-Christian?

You're not going to finish Hitler
with pamphlets and prayers.

Eric, please forgive me.
I can't anymore, I've got to give it up.

You men there. You men there.

No, there's no way out,
but there is a chance for you.

When they come in,
look surprised and horrified

and I'll say I tried to get information
out of you, but couldn't.

I'll stick to that, no matter what.
You play innocent!

It's no use, it's no use.

Upstairs!

- Open up! Open up!
- Take the door off.

What do you want?

Where's the printing press?

- Get out of that drawer.
- Please, please!

- Take him out of here.
- Come on, move.

Is this man making this?

Go on, go on. Close the door.

When I was young, I made a vow

that someday I'd live
comfortably and lavishly.

I've kept that promise.

But this stuffy little place means
more to me than all the rest.

It's the only home I've ever cherished...

because it's filled with...

honesty...

and love and you.

You still want them to notify London?

I wish I could say something
that would be of consolation.

Perhaps if you saw a priest,
he'd give you absolution.

For yesterday's sins, yes,
but not for tomorrow's.

That's something for
my conscience to determine.

And it has.

My conscience has always been
like a well-trained dog.

I could tell it to go and sit in the corner
and be quiet, and it would.

Since I've known you,
it hasn't been quite so obedient.

It keeps shouting for me
to do the very thing

that your conscience won't permit.

Then you must do it.

Mariana.

On my trips back to Berlin,
I won't attempt to contact you.

Now that you're out of it, I don't
want to place you in danger again.

But it's worth the risk.

No, it took me too long to find you.

I don't want to take the chance
of losing you.

- I better go now.
- Not yet.

- My train leaves in an hour.
- No, please, not yet.

- I have a feeling I'll never see...
- Everybody feels that way.

Don't worry.

When this is all over, I'll find you.

If anything should happen to me,

remember this.

You're the only woman I ever really loved.

Wherever you are, know I'll be with you.

Here we go!

Believe me, gentlemen, I had
no idea such a thing was going on.

- If I had known...
- He undoubtedly worked alone.

To make sure, we'd like to look
at the other apartments.

Would you like to start here?
The woman is not in at the moment.

Please.

- Anything?
- No.

- Not many clothes.
- She doesn't live here.

She only used this place to... entertain.

Look what I found on the floor.
A piece of blotter.

Somebody must have torn it in little
pieces and flushed it down the toilet.

Tried to write something,
pressed too hard and it left a mark.

I confess to almighty God and to you,
Father, that I have sinned.

It's been 2 weeks since my last confession.

- Good morning, Father.
- Good morning.

We just moved into this neighborhood.

I was just coming to the rectory
to introduce myself.

I...

I don't know how to begin, Father.

I've never confessed this before.

I...

I have been responsible...

for death and destruction, Father.

Tell me about it, my child.

Well, I...

Don't be afraid, child. Tell me.

Well...

I gave information.

And because of it...

a city was bombed.

From whom did you obtain this information?

Well...

And because of her
deep religious convictions,

she asked to be relieved of any further duty.

End of report.

Sorry I'm late.
I found a wonderful restaurant

where they have superb lobsters.

Tell me about it. I haven't eaten all day.

Well, you'll have plenty of time
from now on.

- What do you mean?
- Our little project's over, Red.

You can't carry this refinery
hoax any further.

They're bound to find out.

Oh, I think I can squeeze
one more trip out of it.

I thought you'd jump at the
chance to get out from under.

Yes, I would.

But I've seen their jetfighters, you haven't.

If they get them flying, they'll have a
turkey shoot with our bombers.

The baron is very close
to getting information

- on assembly plants, fuel depots...
- There's another reason it's finished.

I don't suppose you know
we got copies of your correspondence.

- Telegrams...
- I suspected it.

Not that we didn't trust you,
it's just routine.

I take it you haven't called
at your office.

I came right here.

Here's a copy of a cable
that came for you this morning.

If they find that letter,
they'll pick up everyone I talked to.

The baron, Frau Möllendorf...

Unfortunately, they have to be
considered expendable.

Not to me. I've got to go back.

I've never taken a penny
for what I've done,

and now I ask only one thing in payment.

I know there are things
you could do to stop me.

Don't.

Hamburg first?

No, there's no direct flight to Hamburg.
I'll have to go via Berlin.

You know, of course, if you're caught,
there's nothing we can do to help.

We've never heard of you.

But you do have that address
in Hamburg, in case you need it.

Yes.

Nine Herbertstrasse.

Good luck.

Thanks.

Would you please come with me,
Mr. Erickson?

Just follow me, please.

I had been to Gestapo Headquarters
many times before to see Nordoff,

but now this was different.

This was a matter of security,

and a Colonel Erdmann
was the one who wanted to see me.

I tried to figure out what had gone wrong.

Had they found the letter in Otto's office?

Had they arrested the baron
and forced him to talk?

I tried not to show any fear,

but the miserable people in
the corridor waiting to be questioned

seemed to be part of me now.

And I was part of them.

Right this way, please.

Miller.

Very good, then, very good.

Here we are.

Yes.

An overly polite lieutenant asked me
some routine questions

and told me that Colonel Erdmann
would see me later at another office.

I soon discovered where
the other office was:

In Moabit Prison.

This way.

And don't forget, tell him I want to
see Colonel Nordoff immediately.

Yeah, yeah.

Mariana!

Open the door!

Open it!

Mariana!

Mariana!

Mariana!

Mr. Erickson? My name is Colonel Erdmann.

I knew that woman.

Yes, of course. Now, we would like
to find out how well you knew her.

He keeps sticking to the same story.

He was intimate with her,
but he had no idea

she was after information about refineries.

He claims he told her nothing.

Same thing she said.

It's obvious he was just duped.

You can accuse him of stupidity,
but not treachery.

Nordoff.

Your province is administration,
mine is security.

My experience has taught me
to smell the difference

between the guilty and the innocent.

I have a strange feeling this man is lying.

Maybe so.

But as an administrator, something tells me

that you may have created
a diplomatic incident.

Erickson is a prominent citizen
of a neutral country.

Foreign Minister Ribbentrop

does not encourage
bringing about protests from Sweden.

I didn't arrest him.

I merely detained him for questioning.

For 12 hours in a basement cell?

Let me also remind you

that Reichsführer Himmler
personally authorized

Erickson's plan and survey trip.

The reichsführer prides himself
as an infallible judge of men

and doesn't react too kindly
when that judgment is questioned.

So unless you are prepared

to substantiate your "strange feeling"
with a formal arrest,

- I would suggest...
- All right, let him go.

But from now on,

he's going to be watched as never before.

Erickson.

I want to apologize for the
treatment you have been given.

It's inhuman and inexcusable.

I didn't know you were here
until an hour ago.

You are free to go now.

I understand you were
on your way to Hamburg.

Why don't you go to the hotel and rest?

I'll take care of your transportation.

- Eric, I just heard...
- Gerhard, I still can't believe it.

That woman, all the time,
was trying to get information out of me.

- I never suspected her for a moment.
- Neither did I. Neither did anyone.

We spoke loudly and patriotically
for the benefit of the microphone.

Meanwhile he gave me
the most important information

I'd ever come across.

On the map, every assembly plant
and jet fuel depot was pinpointed,

with a few buzz-bomb launching sites
thrown in for good measure.

Now it was memorizing them,

destroying the map,
getting back to Stockholm

so London could be notified
soon as possible.

Now that we have Swedish approval,
I'm anxious to finalize plans

- and start construction.
- Good, good.

- Well, goodbye, Eric.
- Goodbye, Gerhard.

- Heil Hitler.
- Heil Hitler.

When I reached Hamburg,

they were beginning to evacuate children

because air raids on the city were
becoming more frequent now.

It was too late to go to Otto's house,

so I delayed my visit
until the next morning.

As I was leaving my hotel room,
I discovered that I had company.

He may have been waiting for someone else,

but I had a hunch
that his job was to follow me.

I paid my respects to Mrs. Holtz
and young Hans.

Otto had left instructions with her for
me to go through his personal papers.

So getting the office keys from her
was not too difficult.

It was quite a relief to see that no one
had been there before me.

The money was right where
it should have been,

and so was the letter.

Hello, Hans.

I thought you were in school.

Today is my father's funeral.

Oh, yes.

Yes, of course.

What are you doing?

Collecting some of your father's papers.

- Can I help you?
- No, all finished now.

We can go home.

I'll take the other key.

There are some things
I wanna go over with you.

After all, you're the man of the family now.

Hans! Hans!

Hans!

Hans!

Hans!

I'm not going to hurt you, Hans.

What do you think will happen
if you... tell the police about this?

There's nothing they can do to your father.

He's dead. He's already paid his penalty.

They'll arrest me, of course,
and they'll make me talk.

They won't believe that your mother
didn't know, so they'll arrest her too.

And what about you?

They'd never let the son of a traitor
wear that uniform.

Shall we burn the letter, Hans?

Blessed are the dead,
which die in the Lord from henceforth:

Yea, says the Spirit,
that they may rest from their labors.

I am the resurrection and the life,
sayeth the Lord.

He that believeth in me,
though he were dead, yet shall he live.

And whosoever liveth
and believeth in me shall never die.

In the midst of life we are in death.

Of whom may we seek for succor
but of thee, O Lord,

who, for our sins, are justly displeased.

Yet, O Lord God, most holy,

O Lord...

No, no. Not this way.

Wait. Go into the vault.

Go inside.

- Mama! Mama!
- Come on.

Mama!

Hans.

Hans.

Hans.

- My son isn't here.
- So he's in the other one.

He'll be perfectly safe.

No running back and forth
when the alarm is on.

He'll be all right.

Come and join me in prayer.

O most merciful savior, we are
in desperate need and sorely afraid.

Thank God it's from the family.

Don't be afraid. The bombing's
way down by the refineries.

Tell me, son.

Do you know that man who stood
beside your mother at the grave?

No.

If you know anything,
you must tell me, son.

After all,

we're soldiers together.

If I do, will they take away my uniform?

Of course not.

And what's more, if you help me,
you'll get a medal.

This man is a friend of my father.

Seek, and you shall find it.

Knock, and it shall be opened unto you.

Lord, open the door to thy peace.

All clear. All clear.

You're under arrest.
You go on. All of you. Go on.

- What's this all about?
- I've sent for a car. We wait inside.

I don't want you to run for it
and I have to shoot you.

By what authority are you arresting me?

Gestapo.

I don't know what that boy told you,

but I came here for the funeral of my friend.

I'm traveling under Gestapo orders.

- Get the police.
- Get the policeman.

Here is the police!

- Follow me.
- What happened?

They're in this vault. One man's got a gun.

I just heard a shot.

I'm glad you're here.

A man in there tried to kill me.

Let the police out. Open the door!

- He's getting away!
- He's got the keys.

I managed to stay out
of sight during the day,

and that night I went looking for
the address Dallas had given me.

The underground contact
at Nine Herbertstrasse.

How about a dance, big boy?

I'm saving the next dance for you.

Hello, honey.

Want to dance, mister?

Dance, honey?

Look, I'm from Stockholm. I...

I'm from Stockholm.

A friend of mine by the name of Dallas
said that if I...

ever found myself alone in
Hamburg with no place to go,

you'd help me.

Dr. Karp? This is Hulda Windler.

I'm sorry to bother you at home,
but a friend of mine is in great pain.

Ten o'clock. We'll be there.

Thank you.

- Favor that side for a day or so.
- Don't worry, I will.

I think he's all right,
but you'd better be sure.

He says his code name is "Red".

Please.

- But, doctor, there's nothing...
- I always take an x-ray first.

Now, by train, you will go
from Hamburg to Nyborg,

across on the ferry and on to Copenhagen.

The Danish underground will try to get
you to Sweden in a fishing boat.

But if I were you, I'd hide out
here for a week or so.

A number of people have been caught lately.

I think there's an informer
along the line someplace.

The information I've got can't wait a week.

- What time does the train leave?
- At 6:00.

This Frau Hecker, the conductor,
where will she be?

On the platform. Be sure
and hand her your ticket like this.

Folded twice. Then she'll know.

For your sake, though,
I wish you wouldn't try it now.

I've got to go. Thank you, doctor.

I got a coat and hat for you,
so you won't be so noticeable.

- Tarp!
- Oh, be quiet.

- Tarp.
- Hey, shut up!

I call the stations. If you don't like it,
get off and walk.

Tarp.

Come on, hurry up.
We only stop here for a minute.

- Where are we?
- Tarp, where you are getting off.

Wait a minute, my ticket says Copenhagen.

Don't try that, mister.
Your ticket said Tarp, so off you go.

- It said Copenhagen.
- I haven't got time to argue.

I've got a ticket.

I'll pay you the extra...

Don't tell me your troubles,
I've got enough of my own.

If you have got a complaint,
tell it to the stationmaster.

That woman must be crazy. I've got
a ticket all the way to Copenhagen.

When you travel by underground,

keep your mouth shut
and do what you're told.

Frau Hecker threw you off
because they are watching the trains

and roads very carefully tonight.

Your chances are better crossing
the border through the woods.

Your wife and two children.

Danish money. Danish cigarettes.

Give me your passport
so I can transfer your picture.

What's this?

It's cyanide.

In case you get caught.

There's the border.

- You coming with me?
- No.

Someone else will meet you
on the other side.

Go straight through the clearing.

A good night for bombing,
but not for this. Thanks.

Sic, sic. That's it. Come on, sic.

Sic!

Welcome to Denmark.

It's a German border patrol.
Don't worry. Step over here, please.

What's that?

It's dried blood and cocaine.

Three sniffs and the dogs won't be
able to smell each other.

There's a fish truck waiting at the farm.
It will take you to Copenhagen.

All right, let's go.

Bruno. What's the matter with them?

Up, Bruno, up!

Oh, you might be interested.

That's Gestapo Headquarters.

- Good morning.
- Good morning, Colonel Ulrich.

Yeah.

You'll probably go from here, around
and then straight over to Sweden.

- What are my chances?
- If you were Jewish, they'd be better.

The officers on the patrol boats
are a pretty decent bunch,

not like the Gestapo.

How many have you gotten across?

A lot. To tell you the truth, the service
is much better than before the war.

Sven.

- Will you excuse me one minute?
- Yeah.

Hello, Erickson.

- Look, somebody's being arrested.
- Three of them.

It's good to see you again.

You don't know how happy it makes me.

Well, it's going to give me great
pleasure to question you, Erickson.

- Watch it.
- Look out!

Come on.

- Come on! Come on, after me!
- Faster!

Stop! They're getting away!

- Come on, let's go.
- Behind it.

Follow me.

- Get behind them.
- Come on, we need more. Go!

- Get out of the way!
- Get out, or I shoot.

- Move over!
- You'll get run down.

- Move over!
- Get out of the way!

- Stand aside.
- Don't come closer.

No shooting here!

- Out of the way, you Danish scum.
- Back!

The driver dumped the truck,

and we headed for a deserted warehouse,
where we spent the night.

The next day, with a wreath
on the handlebars, a black armband

and two innocent and tearful children,

I peddled north to a little fishing village.

The sight of a sad family
on its way to a funeral

was too much for the guards
at the roadblocks.

It was a relief to finally look up
the road and see my last hideout.

The underground in Copenhagen
had sent a message

to the OSS in Stockholm,

telling them when and where to expect me.

The only thing left now was to get there.

Sweden?

I'll take you across in my boat.

I'm afraid we have to leave him behind.

He's come an awful long way.

All right.

- Come on, come on.
- Let's go.

I can't. I can't.

Look, there's Sweden.
It's just three miles away.

You've got to make it. Come on.

I've got him.

What they did was, to send 20
fishing boats out at the same time.

The other 19 carried no one
except their crews.

By the time it was our turn
to clear the breakwater,

the guards were bored
and tired of searching.

They just examined
the skipper's papers and let us go.

Come to on our portside.
Search party coming aboard.

Watch that stern!

- Ease it in a little!
- A little more on the bow!

I've been searched once tonight.

The commander has told you about this.

If I don't get to the fishing grounds,
I'll never get my nets out.

Up here. You search the bow.

Old Gunnar was cold.

He perspired quite a bit for a cold man.

It's not like a fisherman's coat, is it?

He's very, very sick.

Let him die in Sweden.

Nothing up here, lieutenant.

Nothing down here either.

Let's go.

Stand by to cast off.

- Watch their stern as you fall away.
- All hands, attention.

- Is the line clear?
- Got it.

OK?

He choked to death rather than cough.

Goodbye.

- Goodbye and thanks.
- Goodbye.

What kept you? I've been
waiting here since midnight.

I couldn't get an outside cabin
on an earlier boat.

Oh, what a pity.

He hadn't changed.
He was just as sarcastic as ever.

But it was good to be back
and see a friendly face,

even when it had to be Dallas'.

When I told him of the information I had,

I thought he might be
surprised and grateful,

but there wasn't time for gratitude.
That would come later.

We had to get to Stockholm and send
the information to London

as fast as possible.

Our air forces were strong now,
ready for more and bigger targets,

and we certainly had them.

As we walked along, he indulged
in a moment of sentiment.

He hinted that someone else
was there, and then I saw him.

The one person I wanted to see.

How on earth he found that you
were coming, I'll never know.

Thanks for believing in me, Max.

Who's that for?

For so many.