Original subtitles

The Triad.

Is it gone?

Hm.

But no doubt photographed.

Who was he? What did he look like?

He was blonde, very blonde. Not very tall. Slim.

- Is this the man? - That's him.

Illya Kuryakin, an U.N.C.L.E. agent.

You get the car ready.

We've got to get to the airport before he does.

Open Channel D, overseas relay. This is Number Two, Section One.

Mr. Kuryakin, it wasn't my intention to pamper you with a private charter plane.

That was the only thing we could find to get you.

Charter plane?

When I get to Paris, do I get time to play?

- All work and no play... - Let me interrupt you once again.

The destination of the plane is Cairo, not Paris.

Deliver the film there and then go on to New York by the regular flight.

Economy class.

Goodbye, Mr. Kuryakin.

I'm afraid you men are getting altogether too soft.

Bonsoir, monsieur.

- Good evening. - I hope everything is satisfactory?

I hope you won't think I am rude but I never expected you to be so young.

Really?

Could I get you anything? A cup of coffee? Tea? Milk?

A hot toddy? Anything at all?

- Borscht. - Cabbage or beet?

- You really would, wouldn't you? - Monsieur?

- No, nothing at all. Thank you. - Oh.

Could I tuck you in, monsieur? It's getting a little chilly.

- No, thank you. - Oh.

I think I'll take a nap. Why don't you do the same?

I can't. I haven't slept for days.

- I'm very nervous. - Nervous?

It has nothing to do with the plane, monsieur. Just me.

I'm turning in my wings when we reach Cairo.

I'm getting married.

Where does this great event take place?

Akron, Ohio. That's where Bob lives. He's my fiancé.

Myself, I am from Marseilles. He was stationed there as a soldier.

That's how I met him.

You would really love Bob if you knew him the way I do.

Somehow, I don't think that would be entirely possible.

Oh.

Could I get you anything? A cup of coffee?

No, thank you. I think I'm gonna catch up on my sleep.

Oh. I'll see if the boys want some.

Anyone for coffee?

- Turkish coffee. - Turkish.

Who are you? You are not...

Get in the back and stay there, or you'll get the same thing he got.

I'm not afraid of either one of you.

I'm reporting you both the minute we land.

It's got to be on him. Let me see them, let me see them.

U.N.C.L.E. does not charter special flights for its personnel.

Take the controls again. I'll look through these clothes.

And change course too. We'll dump them both out as soon as we're over the sea.

But I can't swim.

Mademoiselle, that's a pity. That's such a pity in your case.

But, unfortunately, I cannot change your destiny.

Kismet.

Got any parachutes back there?

- Certainly, one to a customer. Just one? - Yes, put it on.

You take one step forward and I'll throw him out the door.

- Are you ready, mademoiselle? - Yes, I am.

Come in here.

Get after him.

- Good morning. - Oh, my goodness.

What's the trouble?

I was thinking how embarrassing it would be for my fiancé to see us now.

Well, in the desert...

the nights are cold and the days are hot.

It was the survival instinct.

- Yes, it's very hot, isn't it? - Yes, very.

Aah!

- I assume there was a reason for that. - There is.

Always happens to me when I get tensed up.

Do you have any idea where we are, outside of being in the middle of the desert?

Mr. Kuryakin reported from aboard his special plane last night...

at 6 p.m. our time.

The plane was supposed to come down at Cairo.

Instead of that, it came down in Casablanca.

Mr. Kuryakin did not.

It's this latter item that gives us some hope that Mr. Kuryakin is still alive.

It's a 2-to-1 chance, sir.

And as if that weren't bad enough...

he was carrying with him a microfilm copy of Thrush's Triad.

I'm afraid you've lost me there, sir. What is the Triad?

Why, that's the key to Thrush's top-secret cipher.

It was imperative that we have it before next Monday, the 11th.

Yes, that's that mysterious coup Thrush was setting up in Malabar.

I thought Section Two had arranged a perfect intercept for that.

But it's all in the Triad code.

The only thing our experts have managed to decipher is the date.

And without the key that Mr. Kuryakin has, how are we gonna prevent Thrush...

from perpetrating some new kind of deviltry that they may have in mind?

So, in short, sir, you want me to find Kuryakin and the Triad, is that it?

I couldn't have put it more succinctly myself, Mr. Solo.

You may wish to check on a Mr. Saleem Bey.

He's the head of Thrush at Casablanca.

I have a notion he might know what happened on that plane.

Yes, I know the gentleman. We have crossed swords before.

- I can't, I just can't. - You can rest for a little while.

Oh, a glass of cold champagne would be so nice.

I'll settle for plain water.

Since we have neither, why not wish for the best?

If we don't keep going, you won't be wishing for either.

Come on.

What is it?

I don't know. But even if it's a mirage, it's wonderful.

Shade your eyes.

I don't like it. I don't like it one bit.

- You think it is a trick, mon capitaine? - Probably.

The man is a Tuareg.

The uniform on the woman is unfamiliar to me.

Clever. Diabolically clever.

Only, the Greeks thought of it first, my friends.

- The Trojan Horse. - Horse, mon capitaine?

The oldest trick in the world.

Our two friends would have us believe they need our help. We take them inside...

they lull us into a sense of security with some far-fetched tale.

Then when they've gained our confidence,

they open the gates at night for les Arabes.

Well, very well. We'll show them that two can play their little game.

Bring them in, Corporal Remy.

Instead of a Trojan Horse, we'll have two hostages.

Or perhaps two corpses.

Somewhere within 50 miles of this point in the Sahara...

lies the body of the U.N.C.L.E. agent Kuryakin.

We have to find him, gentlemen.

We have to find him and tear him apart until we find that film.

Forgive me, effendi, but I still believe he did not have it on him.

You may be interested to know that this morning...

I received information that a Napoleon Solo...

has been dispatched by U.N.C.L.E. to find the body of Kuryakin.

Do you think they're interested in his body or in Triad?

Forgive me, effendi. I should have known better than to doubt your wisdom.

I've already made plans for Mr. Solo to be dealt with.

It is an old saying, gentlemen, that when one dines with the devil...

one must use a long spoon.

I have a very long and effective spoon.

Behold the devil, gentlemen. Mr. Napoleon Solo.

He's alive.

The female of the species is obviously more hardy than the male.

That male at any rate. Then you are a Frenchwoman.

I would like to see how you would look if you would have been in the desert...

carrying me without anything to eat or drink.

Young lady, I should like to explain again that you're my prisoner of war...

and I'm willing to abide by the Geneva Convention...

but don't test my patience too far.

Prisoner of war? What war?

I don't know. He keeps talking about some kooky war with the Arabs.

He thinks we're spies.

I told him what happened but he doesn't believe me.

It's true. Every word of it.

Permit me to review the facts.

You jumped from a plane you had chartered because two men changed places...

with the pilot and co-pilot and were about to kill you.

- Correct? - Correct.

Then this lady made a burnoose out of a parachute...

because all your clothes were taken from you.

After that you decided to walk to Marrakesh...

which happens to be a little over 300 kilometers away.

In other words, with the entire Sahara desert at your disposal...

you just happened to be passing in the vicinity of this fort.

Yes, sir.

- I didn't know it was a restricted... - Renegade! Liar!

Do you take me for a fool?

Ali-Ka-Bar.

How many pieces of silver did he pay to buy your soul, Judas?

Ali-Ka-Bar? You didn't tell me anything about him.

How could I? I've never heard of him.

I don't know what it is you're accusing me of but, whatever it is, you're wrong.

I don't know where I am. I don't know who you are.

Permit me to enlighten you, sir.

This is Fort Seblon, an outpost of the Foreign Legion.

And I am its commandant, Captain Basil Calhoun.

- Is that clear enough? - Foreign Legion? French Foreign Legion?

There is only one legion worthy of the name.

The French Foreign Legion.

I don't like to say it but you're putting me in an untenable position.

The French Foreign Legion has been dissolved for almost five years.

- It's nonexistent. - Nonexistent? Never! Never!

A glorious heritage of a hundred years bathed in the sweat and blood of men...

who fought in four corners of the world, and you say the Legion is nonexistent?

Listen to that. Listen to that, you craven nit...

and tell me the Legion is nonexistent.

The Legion will live when you and I are rotting in our graves.

Death with honor. Vive la Legion!

I've had enough of this scurvy, skeletal scoundrel.

Toss him in the black hole.

Ah.

Well, this is an agreeable surprise.

Hmm.

Mm-mm-mm.

Mm-hm. Couscous of lamb. Well, that's marvelous.

After all, you are our guest until they chop off your head.

But don't let that spoil your dinner.

Oh, they're sharpening that little goodie out there for me?

Who else?

You would have no head if Saleem did not think he could make use of you.

When he has no more use for you:

Poof.

Saleem didn't happen to mention what his intentions were for me, did he?

He wants you to lead him to the body of your friend.

Well, pigeon eggs.

- You think of everything. - Everything I've got is at your disposal.

That is, almost everything.

Uh-huh.

I knew there was a catch.

He's testing the blade.

One clean chop. And he's very good at it.

I can almost promise you that you will feel no pain.

For you.

Thank you.

Hey there.

What's with this mon capitaine of yours? Is he all there?

Silence.

Touchy. All right, I'll try something else.

It's imperative that I contact someone in Casablanca.

Do you happen to have a shortwave radio set anywhere?

Shortwave?

- Wireless telegraphy? - Ha!

- Crystal set? - You make me laugh.

Carrier pigeons?

Now, the punishment for striking a guard is 30 lashes.

This time, I won't report it.

- Thank you. - Don't mention it.

Oh, for heaven's sake, lieutenant, will you stop that infernal sniffling?

But I can't. When I think of poor Monsieur Kuryakin...

in that terrible hole with nothing to eat...

- Corporal. - Oui, mon capitaine.

For the good of my own stomach, I'm countermanding my order.

Feed the prisoner.

When we're through eating.

- Does that satisfy you, lieutenant? - Thank you, mon capitaine. Yes.

Which brings me to another point.

This coming Friday, I'm entertaining my good friend Sheik Ali Tchard.

I should like you to act as hostess for me.

Why, I'd be glad to. If you promise to take Monsieur Kuryakin out of the hole.

I'll not bind myself to make a bargain with you at this time.

But I'll consider it. Sheik Ali Tchard is very important to me.

Since our lines of communication have been cut off...

he's been our only source of food and supply.

That very camel you're eating came from his larder.

Camel? I'm eating a camel?

I must confess we don't dine this well usually.

This is a very special occasion.

Even though we are enemies.

You mean, you did all this just for me?

Lieutenant, you're the first civilized woman...

I've had the pleasure of dining with in seven years.

Seven years.

A man can get very lonely in seven years, lieutenant.

I never thought I'd ever sit across the table from a beautiful woman again.

Ah, ha.

That very pretty woman. Who is she?

That, my dear, is someone very dear to me...

whom I knew a long time ago.

I'm a little rusty, but would you do me the honor of sharing a waltz with me?

- I would love to, mon capitaine. - Remy?

Barbara?

Barbara? Psst!

Illya?

It's me.

- Where's Calhoun's room? - In there.

- I need food, water and a map. - Are we escaping?

Shh.

I can't take you with me but I'll send help.

I'm not staying without you. Not with all those men.

And when the garrison comes back from patrol from that hot desert...

I get all tensed up even thinking about it.

Will you control yourself?

All right, I'll take you with me. But for your information...

there isn't any garrison and there isn't any patrol.

Those men up on the walls are only dummies.

The only ones in this fort besides you and me are Calhoun and Remy.

You mean, they're a couple of kooks? Come on, let's get out.

I don't think so, lieutenant.

I don't think either of you is going anyplace.

You have not only chosen to defy my orders...

you have attempted to escape. Even more than that...

you have dared to threaten the commandant of this fort with harm.

Harm? Huh! You're just the one to talk.

Do you realize what could happen to Monsieur Kuryakin...

under the sun with his complexion?

Why, it's barbaric.

Silence! Let me tell you something, lieutenant.

What you call "barbaric" was a means of discipline...

that was to forge the dregs and scum of humanity...

into the finest body of fighting men in history, the Foreign Legion.

Mon capitaine...

You're still at attention, lieutenant.

Corporal.

As prisoner of war, I find you guilty of the same act of insubordination.

It is only your sex and rank that save you from the same punishment.

Unfortunately, there's not much I can do about your sex.

There is something I can do about your rank. In accordance with Section 3...

Paragraph 9, Article 16 of the Geneva Convention...

you have forfeited all rights and privileges accorded an officer...

captured in the line of duty. I hereby strip you of all rank.

Ah!

Ah!

I don't know what good all this is going to do.

I'm going to sew them all back.

- What are you doing? - As commandant...

I hereby sentence you to hard labor for the duration of your confinement.

Confinement? I'm not even married.

Yoo-hoo! Help! Help!

Look, the girl, the stewardess.

Help! They see us.

Help.

- Get down! Get down! - You missed them.

I'll swing around again.

- Well, do you believe us now? - I'll apologize later.

He's coming around again. Get inside.

Cut him loose.

Come on, you miserable heathen. I'm waiting for you.

Look at that old fool. Kill him.

Get inside. There's no point in all of us getting killed.

I got him.

Mm!

Splendid, my dear, splendid. My compliments to the chef.

Through my experience, I have learned that a man...

who's appreciative and sensitive about good food...

is also appreciative and sensitive...

about the other joys of living.

I like you, monsieur.

I like you very much indeed.

Well, there's a simple way to prove that, my dear.

How? Show me the way.

How can I savor the joys of living...

when I'm forced to stay in a place like this?

You mean, you wish me to help you escape?

Well, surely a woman of the world such as you must know a way.

An exotic sleeping potion for the guard perhaps.

And then a small key through the opening...

and we shall taste Paradise enow.

You're a man who not only wishes to enjoy the feast...

but wishes to take the dishes home with you.

The infidel dog is finished.

A messenger has just arrived from the master at Marrakesh.

He will not be home tonight.

The messenger will tell you the rest. He is upstairs.

Another lonely night.

Wait. Just a moment. I haven't finished my soup yet.

- Matter of fact, I haven't started it. - Then hurry.

I hear you say Monsieur Bey is in Marrakesh?

You heard me say nothing, you infidel dog.

Now eat your soup.

Hm. All right.

The bullet only creased your arm.

Thank you. I'm sorry for the other thing.

You sleep now.

The best thing is to let him sleep.

And now, if you don't mind, we'll go on to Marrakesh. Come on, come on.

I am very sorry, monsieur. But I can't let you go.

That's dirty pool. I never heard such a...

Shh. Why not?

I am an ignorant man who knows nothing of doctoring.

If he becomes sick again, there is nothing that I could do.

- Remy. - Oui, mon capitaine?

Put the gun away.

- Mr. Kuryakin. - Oui, mon capitaine.

Marrakesh is over 200 miles away.

Tomorrow, Sheik Ali Tchard will be here. For a price, he'll take you there.

It'll be safer and faster.

That's the least I can do.

A little refreshment, Hassam.

- You are adorable. - Your word is my command.

Listen, darling, I don't wish to seem ungrateful...

but this will just have to wait, you see?

What did they...? What did they do with my coat?

Your coat? You want to put on clothes?

Yes, I'm in a hurry. My coat, where is it?

Where I put it.

Oh. Thank you.

Sit down, please.

Come.

Overseas relay.

Channel D calling.

Mr. Solo, where the devil are you? I've been trying to reach you for 24 hours.

Have you found out anything of Kuryakin's whereabouts?

No, sir, not yet. But I have a lead on...

I'm afraid we'll need more than a lead at a time like this.

Let me remind you that whatever Thrush is up to in Malabar is only two days away.

Without the code, we're still in the dark.

Oh, yes. Yes, I know that, sir.

However, I have reason to believe that Illya is in Marrakesh...

with our friend Bey also.

- What are you speaking about? - Shh.

What the deuce is going on there? Who is that?

It's nothing, sir. As I was saying, I think Illya...

They are not in Marrakesh. They have found your friend in Fort Seblon.

Aisha, I'll have to ask...

Did you say Fort Seblon?

Mr. Waverly?

I heard you, Mr. Solo. You're wasting time.

I have very few regrets in my life. This may be one of them.

Macushla.

In the morning with the sun...

we'd go through the fields together, Macushla.

Macushla.

We'll just have to let the fever burn itself out.

The feather. The white feather.

I didn't. It was Terrance.

But they must never know.

I did not, I...

The white feather. It's in that picture.

I don't understand.

In the British army, there is a tradition

that when a man commits an act of cowardice...

the other men show their contempt for him by giving him a white feather.

You mean, he's chicken?

That's about it.

Captain Calhoun? No, I can't believe it.

Many years ago...

when he was officer in the Irish Guards.

That is why he came to the Legion.

He couldn't stand the disgrace.

His family, no one has ever heard from him again.

He was a man, monsieur.

What you saw today was only a shell of what he once was.

He was a lion.

And there was no man here when this was truly a fort...

who did not respect him...

and love him.

There are more than a hundred graves out there.

And he wept for every one of them.

Then you know?

Yes, I know.

The Legion is no more.

I have known it for some time.

It was I who hid the order telling us to disband and go home.

The Legion was also his life.

Without it, he would have died...

so I never told him.

What in blazes is going on here anyway?

- He's better. - Well, certainly, I'm better.

Will you please remove yourselves so I can get out of this nightgown, lieutenant?

- Yes, sir. - We must feed our departing guests.

Bring out the rest of the camel stew.

Oui, mon capitaine.

By tomorrow night this time, we'll have you halfway to Marrakesh.

Thank you.

Commandant Calhoun is a friend, effendi. I am bound to him with honor.

To betray him would be unthinkable.

A bond with the infidel, brother, is like a rope of sand.

And I would pay very well.

I am not a man who can be bought with words, effendi.

Or paper money.

And I came very well prepared.

You'll have your man before the morning sun sets, brother.

I have to get to Fort Seblon. I don't care what it is, I have to get there.

We have not one available vehicle. I'd like to help you...

but I can't do the impossible. Now, if you will excuse me...

I didn't wanna do this but I think you better take a look.

You should have showed me this before, Mr. Solo.

The motor pool, on the double.

Hello? Yousef, this is Khasim.

I have to get someone out to Seblon on the double.

What have you got in a half-track?

That's fine. Just a moment, Yousef.

Seems we have another party with a priority going to Seblon.

Would you mind sharing a half-track?

Not if it'll get me there faster, colonel.

Roll the track, on the double.

By the way, who is the other party?

Macushla O'Shea?

- Oh, excuse me. Oh, oh. - That's perfectly all right.

Oh, my dear, they've stopped. What's the trouble?

Well, the back tread is slipping. I think it'll take a few minutes.

What brings you to Fort Seblon, Mrs. O'Shea?

I'm here on an errand of justice, Mr. Solo.

Oh?

I've come over 3000 miles to right a grievous wrong.

Indeed. Is it permissible to ask who was so grievously wronged?

Someone who once was very close to me, Mr. Solo.

The commandant at Fort Seblon.

I somehow seem to detect the perfume of an old romance, Mrs. O'Shea.

Oh, my, you are perceptive, Mr. Solo.

Yes, Basil, the commandant, and I were once engaged to be married.

And you never did?

No. No, I married Basil's closest friend, Terrance O'Shea.

He passed away about four months ago.

I'm a widow.

Tell me, Mr. Solo, are you acquainted with Captain Calhoun?

- No, we've never met. - Oh.

He was a lieutenant in the Queen's Own Fusiliers.

He was the handsomest, the most dashing man.

And he could've had any girl he wanted, you know.

- But he picked me. - But you married Terrance.

Yes. Yes, and it's because of Terrance that I'm here.

It was Terrance gave Basil the white feather.

It was Terrance who betrayed his closest friend.

And all because of love for me.

Hm. You know, this all has a faintly familiar ring to it. A frame-up, possibly?

Manufactured out of sheer, whole cloth, Mr. Solo.

Terrance confessed to the whole sordid affair to me on his dying bed.

Ah, well, you know, he was not a bad man. But he wanted me.

And that was the only way he could think of to stop Basil's marriage with me.

Love for love, Mr. Solo.

And they drummed him out of the Fusiliers.

He fled in disgrace and joined the Legion. That was over 20 years ago.

And now we're going to meet again.

You know, one could almost set that to music, Mrs. O'Shea.

Oh, yeah.

Fort Seblon.

Ali Tchard.

There's a certain amount of hoopla before we settle down to business.

It's an old local custom.

I don't care how, just get us out of here.

- Those soldiers. Could mean trouble. - Soldiers?

Dummies filled with straw.

Peace be with you too, brother.

Your wives and children, may your progeny increase. All goes well with them?

Allah has blessed us with three more additions.

All females.

A few humble gifts. Some millet, figs and a side of goat.

Thank you. You are truly a brother.

I have also brought a gift of a different kind.

These are two friends of mine.

Smile. Look pleasant.

He looks like a slob.

Wish to go to Marrakesh as quickly as possible.

If you will take them there, they will pay you when you arrive in gold.

I'm afraid you have been deceived, my friend.

- Deceived? How? - By these two.

Last night, there came to my humble abode two men from the authorities in Casablanca.

Your friends are not friends. They are thieves.

Thieves?

Let me handle this.

Enough of this. Take him.

He tried to throw us out of the plane.

- I am the commandant here. - Shut up.

The film. Where is it? Tell me before I tear your tongue out.

Before you tear his tongue out...

You are standing on Legion soil. I could have you shot for this.

You fool. You crazy old fool.

Legion soil? There is no Legion. It was disbanded years ago.

No. It's a lie.

- He's lying. - It's the truth.

I should have told you years ago. We have become an independent nation.

I could've had you arrested for treason. Seize him.

Get him. Get him.

Give me that gun!

- It's just a bluff. We're out of ammunition.

Ah!

Well, we've no need to tell them that, have we?

Kuryakin!

It's a standoff, Mr. Kuryakin. My life or her throat.

Barbara, you must be feeling very tense.

- Relieve your tensions. - Illya, it's not the time...

Aah! Aah!

It's no longer a standoff, Mr. Bey.

All right, throw down your arms and put up your hands. Get ready to fire, corporal.

Now put up your hands, all of you.

Illya. Illya, we're here.

You're five minutes late.

You know, you're getting completely undependable.

I go 300 miles across a steaming desert and this is all the thanks I get?

Get this thing rolling. We're going.

No, no, wait a minute, now. Wait a minute.

Oh.

- Take off. - He's going without us.

Don't worry. He'll be back.

Basil?

It's me. Macushla.

Macushla. It is you.

It is you.

Now, at the moment of my greatest despair.

Why? Why have you come?

I've come to take you back with me, if you'll have me.

I want to make up for all the years we've lost.

The white feather. It will always stand between us.

No more. There is no feather.

Terrance confessed on his dying bed. You've been vindicated.

Would you come back with me, please?

I told you he'd come back.

I can't believe it. I'm really on my way back to Akron to get married.

I don't know how to thank you, Monsieur Solo.

I think we can find a way.