All language subtitles for scorpio english dvd

You should let those cats out
once in a while.

Outside they couldn't survive.

They were bred for degeneracy.

Like a whore.

There's harder work.

- When?
- In a week.

Here is a film of Colonel Salan Zim,
President of Eritrea,

as he steps from the plane
to Paris from the Middle East

on the first leg of his tour
of the NATO countries.

Zim was met by
foreign minister, Pierre Croyez,

and minister of state, Jacques Cassente.

Russian advisors accompanied Zim
even on this mission to the West.

A strong security force surrounded
the colonel on his way toward the podium.

This is the moment - an assassin's gun
fires, causing panic on the tarmac.

As one of the special police falls,
ministers and officials run for cover.

Another shot kills Zim's bodyguard,
Emilio Rocca.

Lights used to floodlight the area
were spun round to illuminate a hangar.

From the roof, fire from an automatic rifle.

Police returning fire
run to surround the hangar,

leaving Zim and his entourage
running for cover.

Two more police died
in the ensuing battle.

While police were distracted
by the assassin,

another shot from the darkness of
the airport and Salan Zim falls dead.

Here is an action replay,

as Colonel Salan Zim of Eritrea
meets death from an unknown assassin.

French police shot and mortally wounded
the Arab whose fire had killed four men.

He carried papers identifying him
as Yusef Belabar, a student from Eritrea,

a member of the extreme left-wing
Soldiers of Revolution.

Already in Eritrea, government forces
have raided the offices of 17 left-wing...

Do you ever count the dead, Cross?

You're beautiful, Jean, but sometimes
you have the bad breath of priests.

- Did you see the opposition?
- I saw him.

What's Zharkov doing on the plane?

- How many times you been out with me?
- Six, maybe seven.

You're good, Jean.
Better - you're smart, you understand.

But that still leaves you
a contract button man,

necessary only because the CIA
doesn't do its own killing.

Washington.

- Does the boy go into your report?
- He's the headliner.

- Why did he want to kill Zim?
- Nosy, aren't you?

Good evening, madame.

Bonsoir, monsieur.

Monsieur.

Boy saw Zim as a fascist, a brutal pig,
a tool of American imperialism.

He wanted a crack at him.
I bought him a ticket.

- If he had got him?
- Mademoiselle, s'il vous plait.

You'd have picked up
your money with no sweat.

If Zim was America's man, why kill him?

For your education?
Zim dead at the hands of the left

serves his government and mine
better than Zim alive.

But it's not his death that's important.
It's who appeared to have killed him.

One more thing. The more a man tells
you, the more dangerous you become.

And the more dangerous you are,
the shorter the options on your future.

Your sister still work at Air France?
Is she meeting you?

- She doesn't know I'm here.
- Sarah's picking me up. You want a lift?

I thought the rules said
we were strangers from here on in.

They bend.

- No, thanks. Say hello to Sarah for me.
- I will.

- He still there?
- Upstairs bedroom.

- See you fellas in the morning.
- Right.

The President Harding Suite. Some
I know like to touch both walls of a room.

They need security.
Would you believe it?

Harding used to play cards up here
with his oil friends.

I was a bellboy then. I was no more than
10. People used to tip big in those days.

Thank you, sir.
Here, kitty.

- Leave the cat.
- Yes, sir.

You need anything, sir?

Action, you know?

A little black to change your luck?

You frighten a guy.

I woke up and for a moment
I thought you were still away

and I'd just dreamed you were back.

You smell of me.

Remember the story of Madagascar Ho?

A little man who dreamed of Madagascar.
Never got further than the 3rd Avenue El.

We should have run in 1945.

Where?

Today's Saturday, isn't it?

Yes, all day.

Heck still go down to the cottage
on weekends?

Yeah. He and Helen left Tuesday
for a couple of weeks.

They asked us down.

Their boy go too?

No. He's at UCLA now. He only
comes home once or twice a year.

He sees Heck as being
in the enemy camp.

He's right.

- You're gonna tell him?
- I'm gonna tell him today.

- McLeod's not gonna have a good day.
- He'll handle it.

He'll feed it into his computer
for the proper reaction.

Maybe we should just go, like the Arabs,
and not... and not tell McLeod.

You start to run,
everyone wants to know why.

Then they make up the answers
to their own questions.

I thought I just saw someone
in Helen's kitchen.

You did.

Us?

You know the Agency.
They like to keep an eye on things.

Mr McLeod would like to see you.

Sorry. Afraid I must insist.

With what were you going to insist,
Mr... Filchock?

We named you well.

You're a perfect Scorpio.

You have a penchant
for intrigue and violence.

Don't limit your action. Read palms.
Maybe my character will improve.

Orion boasted he would kill
all the animals on the earth.

So the goddesses Diana and Latona
created the scorpion to slay the hunter.

You and McLeod
make two nice goddesses.

Tell Diana I've got my day planned.

Cross came back.

You were to kill him in Paris.

Remember everything?
Just in case.

I remember.

I can't see him.
He's got out and run.

Oh, Jesus!

Joy.

Joy, baby. A C-note?

My mother's dead,
so who do I have to kill?

You know the Lord's Prayer?

McLeod?

McLeod, McLeod.

- How bad does he want me?
- All the way.

He say why?

- Where's your partner?
- He's hurt. He's back in the car.

Got a radio in it?

You ever been in the field?

But you've seen the survival kit.
You know what this is?

It's the happy pill.
It's the "kiss the mortgage goodbye" pill.

So long, brother of mine.
You've got 30 seconds to live.

- Miami, single.
- You got nothing smaller, mister?

What's the matter?
Business slow?

New York, single.
What time does it leave?

- 2.20.
- You're sure?

What? Are you here for laughs? I'm sure.

Taxi.

Just drive on ahead.

Thanks.

- Anne.
- Who is it?

- C'est moi.
- Jean!

Right.

Hello, Cross.

Hello, Pick.

- I need help.
- I need the dust. Close the door.

- What are you doing in Washington?
- Missing my sister.

Sure.

Tiens.

She's lecturing.
She'll be back soon. Had breakfast?

Mm-hm.

Here, give me those.

White for your sister and
red for your love. Hungry?

Coffee only.

Where are you living now?

Paris.

Do you still have the same apartment?

Yes.

You bastard!

You're one hell of a letter writer. One
postcard from Damascus in six months.

He brought you some flowers. The red
ones are for you. Oh, hell! The coffee!

I know a place that does a good breakfast.

Hello. May I speak to Mitch, please?

There's no Mitch here.
What number are you calling?

3934098.

I'm sorry. You have the wrong number.

And how long are you here for this time?

Well, I...

No, don't tell me. It's too pretty a day.
I don't want it to rain.

Hello. Hello, Cross.

No time, Sarah.
McLeod wants me dead.

I'll have to go deep,
so you won't hear from me for a while.

Stay close. Contact no one.

When the time comes, Pick'll get in touch.
I love you, Sarah.

Keep that mountain in mind.

I love you, Cross.

First of all, I'm gonna take you to
the Washington monument and...

- Excuse me, sir.
- Of course.

Wait for me outside.

McLeod wants to see you, sir.
Don't give me any trouble, please.

No trouble. Just let me get my bag.

- I'll get it for you, sir. Which one?
- There.

Where the hell are you going
with that bag? Give me that bag!

Good morning, sir.

All you had to do
was keep your heads down.

Cross would have walked
into this office to file his report.

What d'you do?
You crawl halfway up his ass!

Did you think you were following
some second-hand car dealer?

Cross is the best.

Now he's running free and all I've got
is one operative with a cut head,

another being held by the local police
as a drug-addict homosexual,

and one beat-up car.

Mr McLeod, you said to check him in
and keep an eye on him and...

Get out.

- How is Harris?
- Still in a state of shock.

Cross forced a harmless hay fever pill
into his mouth, told him it was cyanide.

- Beautiful!
- Shall I bail the dummy out?

No, let him sweat.

I can't let this get upstairs, Fil.

If we throw this one, the chief'll
come down hard. We have to get Cross.

I've got every man on it, but without FBI
or locals, we're carrying a handicap.

The Bureau would love
to get their hands on this.

No, no one outside the Agency.

Blanket everything.
Every exit. Operate every contact.

I'll put it nationwide.
We'll box him in.

Flight for Toronto is 7.15,
due in 8.10.

Then the big one: Toronto-Vienna.

It leaves at 8.25
and it's a fast-track all the way.

You'll be there at 5.30 -
1.30 in the afternoon their time.

Put it in your shoe, Jack!
Can't you read the sign? Maintenance!

Too much! I made the connections
as fast as I could, like you said.

There are no through bookings,
nothing traceable.

In Pittsburgh your tickets will be at the
National desk, under Father Henderson.

At Chicago go to the United desk.
There you're Father Kitts.

At Toronto it's Air Canada,
under the name Father Wieland.

Und your English is not so good!

Let's get moving.

- Tell me, how do you like my place?
- Very much.

I've 75 students of English literature,

I teach nine classes a week
and our new term starts next week.

And I love you.

How do you like Paris?

Better watch out, Jean. You make
one promise and I'll hold you to it.

- OK, Father.
- Goodbye, my son. Bless you.

Goodbye! Goodbye! Goodbye!

Hello.

What are we buying
for each other?

I'll pay my dues.

- How much did my sister tell you?
- She said there'd be pain.

Did she talk about Algeria?

She said that you were
a lieutenant in the paratroopers.

When I think of it, I'm afraid. Aren't you?

I picked you up, remember?

I only talked Anne into
sharing an apartment with me

so I'd have an excuse to be around.

We can't all miss, mister. OK.

Let's give it a search.

Make a move, jockey,
and I'll splash you across the sheets.

It's heroin.

You son of a bitch.
Get out of bed.

- Pull it in.
- Jean!

You've two ways to walk, Scorpio.

Down that corridor that's 30 years long...
or with me.

This is Washington National Airport.

The picture shows passengers boarding
this afternoon's 5.15 flight,

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Would you say that was Cross?

Without an element of doubt.

Some airports have
a television eye service.

They keep a video tape running, which
they erase the next day. I had a hunch.

And it paid.

It should have been fairly easy
to trace the destination of a priest.

Normally Washington airport
wouldn't have too many priests departing,

but today was
the last day of a conference.

More than 300 priests departed,
in all directions, between 3 and 6pm,

Cross amongst them.

- Brilliant.
- I agree.

- He had to have help.
- No. Messenger boys.

The plan was Cross's.
Would you agree to that, Scorpio?

Mm-hm.

Well... our first piece of common ground.

You boys can pack it in for the night.

You were supposed
to kill Cross at the Paris job.

No contract.

- You took the money.
- You left the money.

Why?

Cross had his contract in first.

I don't play games
when the rules are bent.

No one bends them faster than Cross.

Never with me.

I want Cross.
And I want him burned.

You know him best.

Find him.

- You make too many mistakes.
- Like?

You confuse what you want
with what I want.

Mister, you don't have
too much ground to dance on.

I could drop you for the heroin
or tag you for the Paris killing.

Your government would like more names.

Your second mistake, McLeod.

Cross gave me enough information
on each operation we did together.

Not conclusive, but enough
to make a strange reading.

You can't let me go into a public court.

What do you want?

I want inside.

Where?

Beirut.

You want Cross's job?

If you get Cross, you get his posting.

- More.
- More?

$25,000.

- Where's Cross?
- More.

You run it right to the edge, don't you?

- What?
- I want to know the reason.

Executive order.

You don't question a directive
in the Agency, Scorpio.

I'm not in the Agency until I get Cross.

The reason?

He's a face, a double agent.

He sold to the opposition
and he has a lot more to sell.

Do you know where Cross is or don't you?

I don't. But a man named Zharkov will.

Serge Zharkov.

He's Soviet intelligence in Cairo, Cross's
opposite. You think he'll go to Zharkov?

Zharkov will go to him.
But not in the Middle East, in Europe.

- Europe is a big place.
- I want internal replay on Serge Zharkov.

- Who else have you got to send but me?
- Where do I send you?

Where Zharkov and Cross
have met before.

A place they both know. A place
where Zharkov could have a safe house.

Ready on Zharkov.

Sergei Zharkov.

Born Kiev, 1914.
Educated in Leningrad.

Doctor of philosophy and political history,
and economics.

Fought in Spain
with the Thaelman Brigade.

Arrested in Moscow, 1939,
and sentenced to six years hard labour.

Rehabilitated in 1943.
Assignment, Balkans.

Little information
until his posting to Iraq in 1952.

Speaks fluent German, Arabic,
French, English, Hebrew.

Associated operatives: Karlin,

Ludmann,

Zemetkin...

Replay operatives.

Associated operatives: Karlin,

Ludmann,

Zemetkin...

Hold on Zemetkin.

Listen, when I came over,
you promised me asylum.

- We also promised you questions.
- Yes.

And I answered all your questions.
Why am I in the airport?

You're going back to Moscow, Zemetkin.

You gave us no more than we knew.
You were cute and well-conditioned.

And all that stuff
about freedom had brass edges.

You ran because you were playing
pat-a-cake with state funds.

OK, we let it ride. But now we want
a little interest on our investment.

Zharkov.

When Zharkov isn't in the Middle East
and he isn't at home, where is he?

Maybe a former picnic ground
not too east and not too west.

Somewhere the barriers are down.

I don't know such a place.
I would tell you if I knew.

Your plane.
Aeroflot flight 379, direct to Moscow.

At the other end
you'll be well and truly met.

- 6481 to Ilyushin 009. Over.
- You're murdering me.

Federal protective service
officer 7463. Over.

Ready to board passenger
Andreiv Zemetkin. Over.

Standing by. Over.

Dropping lounge boarding platform
in five seconds. Over.

How about Vienna?

- Vienna?
- I'm sorry.

What about the police?

A mistake. The man who had the room
before me forgot to pack everything.

Some mistake.

How long will you be away?
Can I come?

Impossible. Anyway, you have to teach.

- Is it going to be dangerous, Jean?
- No. Why should it be?

We've already contacted
our people in Vienna.

You'll be given every facility,
total cooperation.

And you can draw expenses.

McLeod's depending on you, Scorpio.

- Spain was a long time ago.
- The best died there.

There's a house on the Kurrentgasse,
on the corner. Go there.

- Where are we going?
- Get in.

- You don't talk very much.
- I have nothing to say.

I see you still have
a flair for the theatre, Zharkov.

It adds colour.

These drivers - your people?

Not official. Old comrades.

I hear you are running, Cross.

- What else do you hear?
- McLeod's ordered the wet stuff.

There's a gun out for you.

When did you know?

- A week before you did.
- Who have you got in your pocket?

Actually, I buy from a Bulgarian
who works for the Chinese.

- Your place?
- Yours, if you need it.

No one knows about it -
not my company, not your company.

Just friends, a few and trustworthy.

- And the rent?
- Take it on trust.

Thank you.

There will come a time, when those
who sit above me will want you delivered.

They'll give me so much play in the rope
and then they'll pull it in.

And then?

Moscow is nice in the spring.

There's a long winter, I hear.

How are you going to get your wife out?

I'll get her out.

Come over. They'll get her out for you.

No, Sergei. No Moscow.

I want out, not just a change of sides.

Sit down, Cross.

The offer of the hide still goes.

And when the rope begins to wind in?

I'll tell you.

- And you'll know where to find me.
- In Vienna I could find you anywhere.

Have you noticed, Cross,
that we are being replaced by

young men with bright stupid faces,
a sense of fashion,

and a dedication to
nothing more than efficiency?

Keepers of machines, pushers of buttons,

hardware men with highly complex toys,

and, except for language,
not an iota of difference between

the American model and the Soviet model.

To dinosaurs.

Maybe you can kill Cross alone,
though I wouldn't bet on it,

but you're not gonna find him alone,
not out there.

- Am I wasting my breath?
- No, I was listening.

And so far you've said nothing
that lit any candles in the dark.

You have no proof
that Cross and Zharkov are in Vienna.

You have no one on your staff
that knows Zharkov.

But you did check customs, and eight
priests arrived in the last three days,

two from North America, Mitchell.

It is Mitchell, isn't it?

Well, Mitchell...
which of the two was Cross?

The one on TWA from New York
or the one on Air Canada from Toronto?

No way of telling.

Father Wieland was Cross,
Air Canada from Toronto.

I know horse players that
play hunches and hot flushes.

Horse players die broke.

If Cross had flown
from Washington to New York,

he would have caught the Pan Am flight,
but there was no priest on that flight.

He wouldn't have waited
seven hours for a TWA flight.

Never stand still when you run
and never run in a straight line.

That's the first thing Cross taught me.

Cross is an organiser. He plans
down to the finest margin of error.

You can't follow his mistakes,
so you follow his skill.

Washington to Pittsburgh or Cleveland.
Two possibles.

Cleveland or Pittsburgh to Chicago.

Chicago to Toronto.

Toronto to Vienna.

Not more than 20 minutes in any one
place and less than 12 hours in all.

Wieland fits.

All the majesty of Europe.

Have you ever been to the Hermitage?
Paintings there that seize your breath.

- Stop being a guide. What have you got?
- Arrivals.

- Then they know you are here. I guessed.
- You never guess.

A defector, Zemetkin, a petty thief -
McLeod had his thumbs on him.

- He knew about Vienna.
- And the hide?

Only those I trust know that.

I could have this one killed.

No.

I would offer you coffee, Cross...

but the sugar would attract too many flies.

Everyone Cross used to know in Vienna.

Everyone Cross used to know...
that you know.

We're monitoring telephone calls to
America, telegrams and radio telegrams.

I want the tapes brought here.

We've got a watch on the embassies, but
if Cross doesn't move, he'll be invisible.

He'll move. He'll try to get his wife out.
He'll need funds and help.

Not if he goes over.

- He won't.
- McLeod thinks he might.

If he was going over,
he'd be in Moscow, not Vienna.

The trouble with McLeod
is that he thinks like McLeod.

You know what a dybbuk is, Mitchell?

Some sort of Jewish sprite or ghost.

A spirit that invades another human form.

I'm the dybbuk of Cross's labyrinth mind.

I live inside him.

He'll move.

He's in here.

I've assigned Novins and Dor to help you.
They're both Viennese, both good men.

Grüß Gott.

As far as the embassy is concerned,
you don't exist, so don't call for help.

Cross.

- You have some time, Max?
- Until three. But longer if you want.

- You hungry?
- I can hold out if we hurry.

Come on!

It's June.

Strauss and Strauss and Strauss.

A little Mozart, a little Brahms,
then Strauss and Strauss and Strauss.

Vienna is the only city that puts on
yesterday's clothes for visitors.

Cross, it's been months
since I played any Webern or Berg.

And three years since I saw you, Cross.

- I'm in trouble, Max.
- Can I help?

Maybe you should first ask what.

It would only depress me
or maybe frighten me, Cross.

I need a messenger boy, Max.

Waiter!

- Yes?
- Zwei beer.

Ja.

Between rehearsals or should I go sick?

You'll have plenty of time between.
Could you do the bank today?

- The old bank?
- There's a teller there called Karoldy.

He'll give you a key to a safety deposit
box. In the box are three packages.

- Bring them to me.
- OK.

- What are you doing this weekend?
- I am off Friday till Monday.

- Would you like to see Rome?
- Rome?

I want someone to meet Sarah,
someone she knows.

If I can clear her in the next few days,
will you do it? I need it bad, Max.

Do I take her to Maria's?

Danke schön.

Nothing.

He says he hasn't seen Cross for 20 years.
Didn't even know he was still alive.

You believe him?

Yeah, I'd say so.

Put a marker on him?

Try Stross next.
72, Porkornygasse.

- We'll finish the others tomorrow.
- You'll be here?

I'll be here.

- How did you get this?
- A man asked for it to be given to you.

- Man about 50, big, American?
- Yes, but he was German.

Oh, yeah.

You should have
done it in Paris, Jean.

The price wasn't right.

And now it is?

Yes, now it is.

I could kill you, Jean.

Take it, then, Cross.

It won't come around again.

Can we talk?

Sure.

McLeod name my sin?

- He said you sold and had more to sell.
- And you believe that?

Is it true? I want to know.

For your education?
No, it isn't true.

Zharkov.

- What about Zharkov?
- He is the opposition.

I've known Zharkov for almost 30 years.

As an ally, as an enemy
and always as a friend.

We're both premature antifascists,
as they used to say in Washington.

But Zharkov hasn't sold out
and neither have I.

- Then why does McLeod want you dead?
- Why don't you ask him that?

I'm asking you.

You're looking for God's shining face,
aren't you, Jean? Something to believe in.

Like a young girl
in a white Communion dress.

But you've got the soul of a torturer,
so your need is greater.

You lied to me, Cross, and you used me.
For that I'm going to kill you.

I never lied to you, Jean.
I used you, but I never lied to you.

Not my doing, Cross, I swear.

Don't trust McLeod. He ordered you
dropped twice - Damascus and Marseilles.

That's why I gave you so much
information - something to bargain with.

You owe me, Jean.

- Where?
- He's up there.

You had him last night and you let him go.

That's how it looks in my report
unless you've got something to change it.

Dor says you didn't even try
to get a shot off.

Where the hell do you think you're going?

Never put your hands on me.

Cross, I'm off until Tuesday.

I want you to call Washington for me.

The number and the message
is in that envelope.

Repeat the message
exactly as it's written.

Call from a phone box.

You still don't have any questions?

What answers could you have
that would make any difference?

I love you, Cross.

And I you, Max. That's why I must tell you
there could be pain in this.

I have been inoculated.

You know, Cross, I used to think
that the only music I would ever hear,

no matter what I was really playing,

was the music we played each morning
when the others went out to work.

Or the music for the selection, when
the lucky ones went into the showers.

Now I can hear Brahms... and not crying.

But one image has never blurred.

Cross, you coming through that gate
and taking me home.

Oh, for...

- Das war sehr gut.
- Das hat geschmeckt.

Danke.

They're pulling in the net. Both sides.

They want you delivered, Cross.

I can't go back. You know that.
Not after this kind of a move.

- Not even if the Soviets took the leash off.
- But your wife...

I'll have her out in two days.

Do you know why McLeod hates you?

You are one of Donovan's adventurers,
the last of the Knights Templar.

You don't stand up straight. You have your
hands in your pockets, show no respect.

And tonight you are going
to get drunk with a Russian.

And we are going to get drunk, Cross.

What was it you used to say?

Falling down drunk.

Falling down drunk.
And then we'll get maudlin.

We will sing, I will cry, and then
I will tell you some very funny stories.

Tell Mother to take the books
back to the library. They are overdue.

Give her my love
and tell her not to carry things.

Just a man calling his mother, Mitchell?
Only two things don't wash, Mitchell.

He called a public phone in Washington
and he doesn't have a mother.

His whole family died in the camps.

You didn't crosscheck each one, Mitchell,
and you cost me a day.

You are so damn quick to write notes
to McLeod. Put that in, Mitchell.

I traced it back to a Max Lang.

He used a phone booth
in a café near the state opera house.

You knew that, Mitchell,
but you didn't go there.

- Dead end.
- It could have been a dead end.

But Lang needed more change.
He asked one of the waiters.

The waiter knows him.

He is a cellist, Mitchell.

And, even more important, he was
in the Resistance when Cross was liaison.

The whole goddamn thing's redundant.

There are no more secrets.
At least, none worth stealing.

It's a lower form of life.

Its reason of existence
is its reason to exist.

What the hell are you doing?

Jesus, Sergei.

You even hide things from yourself.

Tell me, what keeps you
from burning out?

You see before you
the last of a race of giants.

No, no, no.
I mean seriously.

Seriously?

I still believe.
I'm still a communist.

Communist? For Christ's sakes!
After what you've seen?

You've seen it turn brutal... inhuman.

No, Cross. I've seen men use it badly.

What about the trials? The purges?

Trials, purges - they are words
you have read somewhere, Cross.

My trial was so grotesque,

my hours of interrogation so terrible
that I was numb.

It was a kind of frontal lobotomy
without anaesthetic.

And the labour camps -

where men,
good communists, old fighters,

men who believed in
the dignity of man above all else,

were used as draught animals
to pull logs on frozen feet.

That this could be the result
of all I had committed my life to.

But, baby, at that moment,
didn't you realise what was happening?

At that moment I tried to understand
what had happened to me.

Most of us there were communists,
not Stalinists. That is why we were there.

Nothing had happened
to make me renounce myself.

I was still a communist.
Stalin couldn't take it away from me.

And now the dull, grey stupidity
that sends the tanks into Prague

because it has no imagination -

it can't take it from me either.

I am still a communist.

You're still an idiot.

You still serve that dull, grey stupidity.

And when they pull the wire on me,
I'll deliver you to them, Cross.

Yesterday at 16.20,
Sarah Cross received a local phone call,

the same message as the one monitored
in Vienna to someone here in Washington.

We have no trace on that someone.

She left the house at 17.05.
Notice the handbag.

It's big enough to carry a package - say,
the size of a book - without it showing.

She went to this storage house.

Cross kept some Middle Eastern
furniture and artefacts there

from the time he sent
his wife home from Cairo.

She signed in, got the keys and went
upstairs. She was inside six minutes.

She told the inventory clerk
she had to measure a cabinet.

She signed nothing out. She left and
drove to the Library of Congress building.

We got no film inside that building,
but one of our operatives followed her.

The place was crowded with tourists
and it was nearly closing time.

Now, she spoke to no one...

deposited nothing, simply wandered
through the exhibit halls.

However, on her way out she had to pass
through a group on a conducted tour.

No way to check persons on tour.

She exited the building at 17.49.

- Could be a drop.
- But did she make her connection?

Probably someone in that group.

Or she could have picked something up.
Passport, ticket, escape details.

She's due to run.

I want her place searched.

Get Heck Thomas - he lives behind her -
to invite her for drinks, dinner, anything.

Then get a contract thief
to get one of our men in there.

Brief him on what
he might be expected to find.

Make it look like a routine housebreaking.
The thiefs gotta leave prints.

We'll give him shelter.

Nothing. He had this in his pocket, though.
The phone message.

Cross's handwriting.
I'll talk to Lang.

He's dead.
He wouldn't talk.

The car! Box him in!

You stay up here.

Cross!

I'm tired, Helen,
and I've been very bad company,

so thank you
and say good night to Heck for me.

- Come over for coffee in the morning.
- OK.

- I know about music...
- We're out of booze again.

- There's a couple more in the kitchen.
- No, that's gone too.

Uh, where'd Sarah get to?

She's gone home. She's got the dumps.

- Jesus, no!
- Heck!

She's gone back to her house.
Should I go after her?

No, don't get involved.
Call him. Warn him.

I'm going over there.

Jesus Christ!
What happened in there?

Now.

More of your litter, Mr Mitchell.

Always with access to my superiors.

I don't like your type in my streets.

I've lost another man
and that bastard thinks it's funny.

You've lost more
than another man, Mitchell.

You've lost Zharkov.
That means we've lost Cross.

It might just be that Cross would be
more valuable, more cooperative,

if we helped him without conditions.

We don't think so.

Alex, you don't think.
You take orders.

And so do you, Zharkov.

Your orders are the same as mine - put
Cross on tomorrow's flight to Moscow.

Your intimacy with this man
could be interpreted...

Alex, you remind me
of someone I used to know.

- Who?
- Funny, he never told me his name.

Like you, he was building his career
on a passionate belief in obedience.

He took his revolution from books,

his Marxism from easy-to-swallow,
predigested pap.

He was building socialism in one country
with the bones from a charnel house.

There were a lot of them around in 1939.

I can't give you any more time, Cross.

- Two days.
- My head on a tray.

Malkin?

Another keen son of a bitch.

Better get dressed.

You know, Sergei...

I might be better than you
in a closed room.

Don't even think about it.

For you.

Do me one favour, Cross.
Run, as fast and as far as you can.

You've nothing but enemies now.
Both sides.

Don't catalogue the excuses through
the alphabet. You got it cleaned up?

Morrison's in the hospital, with our
own medical people. It's a bad wound.

- The thief?
- He ran. Untraceable so far.

- No one's untraceable.
- Damp down the police search.

- We don't have the means.
- Over their heads, we do.

If Milne's found dead, that'll make
for more questions and deeper probes.

All right. All right, but get Morrison
out of Washington. Fly him to Panama.

It is a bad wound.

I won't cry if the goof dies.

Change your mind, my friend?

I've bad news, Cross.

Our sister Sarah has gone to her rest
in the peace of Christ.

With faith and hope of eternal life,

let us commend Sarah
to the loving mercy of our Father.

The hunter home from the hill.

I'd buy a plot here soon, Mr McLeod.
It's a nice cemetery.

You think I'm responsible for this?

- Cross will.
- And you think he'll come back?

Don't you?

We have evidence that he's in Moscow.

Then burn incense in front of it,
McLeod. And pray.

From our end, the contract is still open.

Why the Bahnhof?

All faces are anonymous
in railway stations.

You're sure there will be no trouble?

He's there, packed
and ready to make the trip.

The negatives and prints
are on their way to Moscow.

There is a limited interpretation possible,

but an accompanying report
clarifies the more shadowed areas.

And you are seeing Cross off.

You might try denial, but it is a weak plea,

and at best would leave you open
to charges of incompetence.

I suggest you defect.

Cross, Zharkov getting off
a Soviet Ilyushin aircraft.

This photo's reported to have been taken
from the roof of the Moscow airport.

Lab says could be but no hard evidence.

Cross here shaking hands with
three VIPS. Zharkov in the background.

That indicates the three are high-ranking.

No telling who these two are,
but this one in profile could be Stolypin,

head of the Arab section in Moscow.

Notice this maintenance vehicle.

The lab blew it up and it definitely has the
markings and plate numbers of Moscow.

That's the first hard evidence.

All the rest are blow-ups
to examine everything in detail.

We've combed it out tight,
the results say it probably is Moscow.

But could be Prague or Budapest.

OK, Tom.

- Where's Zharkov now?
- Cairo.

Flew directly there from Moscow.

The opposition is chortling
about some coup.

Cross has gone over.

Scorpio still expects him.

The Frenchman's a loser.

You could have had
that beautiful Abyssinian in the pet shop.

I like street cats.

I'm going to call you Sun Tzu.

Who on earth is Sun Tzu?

- A great scholar of war. Wasn't he, cat?
- I bet he has fleas.

It's a sign of his independence.

I wanted to buy you
something lovely and exotic.

You wanted to buy me something
I wanted. All right, I'll take this one.

OK. There's no charge. If you want
to give something, there's a donation box.

OK.

Should we give him
anything special to eat?

You can use anything.
If he's hungry, he'll eat anything.

Just a word, Mr Laurier.
A few minutes, please.

McLeod has closed the Cross file.

Is that a polite warning?

No. I'm here on my own.

- I'd like your opinion.
- You know my opinion.

That airport, could be Moscow.

- Could be?
- We think it is.

But could be Prague or Budapest.

That's careless geography.

You... you still think
Cross will come back?

If that was Moscow, they'd hardly let him
pose for photographs and then leave.

I don't know where it is and I don't know
what the Russians might or might not do.

But I know what Cross will do.

What do you think I should do?

Sit in McLeod's chair and see if it fits.

It will be vacant soon.

We've got a fix on the thief. His name's
Paul Milne. He's running scared.

I'd hit him tonight.
He might be gone by tomorrow.

He's a third-term man - so he's down
for life without a killing on his sheets.

The law should be breathing hard
down his back, but there's no heat.

The story is that the man downtown
has been told to cool it and doesn't like it.

The grumble goes high up.
You think they could put a fix in?

They might if they had a good reason.
What's this Milne's form like?

Housebreaker, jimmy and soft-shoe stuff.
Never been caught with a gun or a blade.

I've asked around,
but nobody says he shot your wife.

But you know where to find him.

What the hell is this?

Who are you guys?

No! Jesus, that's gas!

Who are you?

Match.

Holy mother of God!

- The job where the woman was killed.
- I didn't kill her! I don't carry a gun.

Who?

I was hired. This guy.
I don't even know his name.

- Did he tell you what to look for?
- Notebook, a small package.

Paper, letters, anything with writing on it.

- Did he shoot her?
- Yes.

The lady comes in sudden
and she's got this gun.

She opened up on him and he blasted her.

Cross.

Give up smoking, thief.
It's bad for your health.

- So now you know.
- Now I know.

How are you gonna get that guy
if he's as big as you say he is?

- Miff Wilson.
- Cross, man, it's gonna cost you.

I can afford it. I've saved enough
to buy a mountain I won't need any more.

I know you're out there, Cross.
I can feel it.

- Miff.
- Cross.

- How are you?
- Great.

- Got a minute? Let's step outside.
- Sure.

Miff, remember the job
you did for me in Michigan?

I want you to take care of someone
for me. He'll be in a black Cadillac car.

Hey, nut.

What are you doing?

They're beautiful.

- We're going to Paris.
- When?

Tomorrow. We'll get an apartment.

- You've got an apartment.
- A new one.

You're crazy. You know that?
Crazy out of your skull.

No.

I love you.

If anything happens to me, if I'm stopped
at the airport or anything like that,

take this to the French embassy,
to a Gil Mousseau.

Gil Mousseau.

And give it to him.

He'll know what to do.

No, don't ask now.
I'll tell you soon. In Paris.

Are you in trouble, Jean?

No. That's my insurance policy.

You know I'm old-fashioned enough
to buy you a ring.

And I know a place
that makes a good breakfast.

- See you on Monday, Fil.
- Have a good lunch.

Bloody martini circuit.
Damn town runs on olives and small talk.

- This is it.
- Is this the place?

- This'll be OK.
- Right on.

You drive on.

Stay here, Mr McLeod. I'll see to it.

- Don't move me.
- Call an ambulance.

Don't move me.

Mr McLeod, sir.

Quick, quick!
Get an ambulance.

Your flight leaves Dulles airport at 7.50.

- Good luck.
- Thanks.

- I will see you over there.
- Yeah.

Mr Laurier.

You were right, Scorpio.
We should have listened to you.

Are you going to fulfil your contract now?

I'm out.

We still want Cross.

He'll make contact now with
the opposition, one last big delivery.

You've shown me no proof
that Cross was a traitor.

You've got a handful of maybes.

You can't buy 10 minutes
of my time with that.

Proof? You want proof?

What do you think McLeod was?
A psychopath?

Some sick mind that went about ordering
killings to make his days interesting?

No. He was a professional,
like Cross, but with a difference.

He was honest. He had only two gods:
Efficiency and duty.

Cross is a double agent.

In intelligence all evidence is,
of necessity, circumstantial,

but Cross had bank accounts
with considerable assets in Zurich,

under the number 30-98-71.

You can see it written down there
in his handwriting,

checked out against a signature
on his American Express credit card.

In that account alone he had $238,000,

down this year to $124,000.

By the way, Scorpio,
you can hold the picture on screen

or close in on it
by using that panel in front of you.

His next account turned up in Panama,

this time under the name
Robert Crosthwaite.

Credit: $19,500.

He also has a Dallas bank account
under the name Gerald Cross.

Assets, as of January '73, $60,000.

I grant you, field work demands
trading with the opposition.

Cross knew men like Zharkov but...

Here he is with Raymond Hussein in Paris,
a man who he told us he had never met.

With Robert Simmonds in Beirut, another
name that never appears in his reports.

Cross again in an Arab guerilla camp
with Salem Demoum.

They received substantial information
leaks from unidentified sources,

leaks that could have come from Cross.

So when his wife returned to Washington,
we put her under surveillance.

We have reason to believe
that she was being used as a delivery.

This was filmed by one of our agents
when she left the house

shortly after the message you monitored
was called through to Washington.

She went to this storage house.
Cross kept some belongings there.

Then she went directly
to the Library of Congress building,

we believe to pass a message.

It was very crowded there with tourists.
She may have made a drop.

Our agent couldn't be sure because
he wasn't allowed to photograph.

She left there at 5.49,
just before closing time.

I picked you up, remember? I only talked
Anne into sharing an apartment with me

so I had an excuse to be around.

I picked you up, remember?

Good night. Bye-bye.

Jean.

Jean.

You'll have to look me in the eye
when you kill me, Jean.

That won't bother me. Not this time.

No, you're a one-talent man, Frenchman.

You took this contract cos
you wanted inside, you wanted my job,

and you needed a McLeod
to carry your sins for you.

I was finished with you, Cross.

I was going home tomorrow... with her.

- She was my way out.
- I'm sorry about the girl. Truly sorry.

But I had no part of her plans.

She was a Czech courier and very good.

A lot of hard work
went into collecting this.

Go ahead, Scorpio.
It should be easy.

You'd be doing both of us a favour,

and there's an outside chance
they might let you live.

Two for one.

There's a room just down the hall
from McLeod's office...

where grown men play a game.

It's a bit like Monopoly,
only more people get hurt.

There's no good... and no bad.

Jesus.

The object is not to win...

but not to lose,

and the only rule is to stay in the game.

Visiontext Subtitles: Sally Lewis