All language subtitles for The.Trouble.With.Spies.1987

Close the curtains, will you?

Thank you.

The island of Ibiza:

A Spanish province
in the Mediterranean

About 50 miles
southwest of Majorca.

Ibiza is not only
a mecca for tourists,

It's also the center
for hallucinatory drugs.

For some time now, narcotics
have been finding their way

into British army bases
both here and abroad.

These drugs are of high quality
and remarkably cheap,

which seems to rule out
an underworld operation.

Any other alternative
suggest itself?

- Moscow.
- Of course--

The Russians trying to undermine
morale and efficiency.

That, however,
is not our problem.

Our problem is that
we have positive proof

From an agent in Ibiza
that the Russians,

using unsuspecting hippies
as guinea pigs,

have perfected
a new truth drug

to use on enemy agents,

A drug which, when used,

leaves the victim
totally unaware

That he's been given it

or any information
he may have divulged

while under
its influence.

We are desperate to get
our hands on this drug--

So desperate, we are prepared

to sacrifice a member
of the services.

A man will be sent to Ibiza

On the pretext of locating
a missing agent,

Which is, in fact, true,

And the Russians
will be informed.

When they're informed, the
Russians will do one of two things--

Either dispose of him
immediately

or take him prisoner,

In which case we shall move in
and get the drug.

- If you're looking for a volunteer, sir...
- Thank you, wellington.

The man I send to Ibiza
must have a romantic view

of the world of espionage.

Moreover, he must be a man who,

when placed under
the influence of the drug,

will have absolutely
no information to impart.

In other words,
a complete dummy.

Appleton Porter, sir.

Appleton Porter?

Hold your fire!

Hold your fire!

What the bloody hell do you
think you're doing, Porter?

The targets are down there,
not up here!

Mud in my eye, sir.

Mud in his eye!

That'll be all
for today, Porter.

The old man wants
to see you, Porter.

Dummy.

Come in.

You wanted to see me, sir?

Yes. Come in, Porter.

Yes, sir?

You're looking a trifle thinner
than when I saw you last.

It's the camouflage, sir.

It makes you blend
into the surroundings.

I understand. Sit down.

Yes, sir.

I asked to see you
because I've got

an assignment for you
in the field.

The field, sir?

Your name,
until further notice,

Is Arnold Barker.

I have here your passport

and documents relating
to your cover.

But first, I'd like
to paint the picture.

- Are you ready to absorb?
- Yes, sir.

You're no doubt aware
that, for some time,

The Russians have been
trafficking drugs

to our armed forces
both here and abroad.

- No, sir.
- Well, they have been.

The kremlin has been at it
for some time.

The Russians have little or no
trouble in obtaining the drug.

Their problem
is one of channeling it.

The obvious solution, therefore,

Is to channel the drug
through some recognized center.

One of these centers is the
island of Ibiza in the Mediterranean.

We traced one drug connection

To a British-Operated
boardinghouse, the Royal Rose.

Here, the trail ended.

We sent a man to stay as a guest
at the Royal Rose.

His cover name
was George Trent.

Two weeks ago, he disappeared.

Your job is to find out
what happened.

And the drug connection?

If you have any illusion
about scoring

a starry-Eyed victory
by smashing

a soviet drug ring,
forget it.

Your job is to find
George Trent--

Nothing more, nothing less.

The name of the operation
is Cornfield.

Be ready to leave
for Ibiza in the morning.

Yes, sir.

May I tell you, sir,
how deeply I appreciate

the opportunity you are giving me

to prove to you what I can do?

Thank you.

- Porter?
- Yes, sir.

You've forgotten your gun.

Do you know what I'm gonna do
with this gun, sir?

I'm gonna go back
onto that firing range

And I am going to qualify.

Be careful
with that thing.

Oh, it's all right, sir.
It's not loaded.

- You must be Mr. Barker.
- Yes, I am.

- How do you do?
- How do you do?

- Welcome to Ibiza.
- Thank you.

In case you haven't
already guessed, Mr. Barker,

The Royal Rose is within
walking distance--

Very central,
as the guidebooks say.

My name's Arnold,
by the way.

Mona-- Mona Smith.

How did you come to hear
about the Royal Rose?

A friend.

He stayed here last spring.

I wasn't here then.

I've only owned the Rose
for six months now.

Oh, you're the owner.

Manager, chief cook,
and bottle washer.

We have seven rooms
and a staff of one.

It's her day off.

That makes me
official greeter as well.

My husband and I used
to operate a tea shop

in a welsh border village.

Your husband?

He was killed in a train
accident two years ago.

When the insurance
was finally settled,

I came out here on holiday,

ended up buying
the Royal Rose.

- Are you married, Arnold?
- Am I married?

- No, I'm not mar--
- Good-- Look out!

Whoa!

- Are you all right?
- Yes, yes.

- I think so.
- It was coming straight at you.

- It almost looked deliberate.
- Deliberate?

Ha. Who'd want to run me down?

I must say, you're pretty calm
about it.

I'd be shattered.

I'm not nearly as calm
as I appear to be.

That's very honest of you.
I like that in a man.

Come on, the Royal Rose
is just around the corner.

I'll take you
straight to your room.

You can check in later
after you freshen up.

Dope.

- I beg your pardon?
- Don't mind Perky.

He calls everyone dope.
Thinks he owns the place.

There we are.

Now, just make
yourself at home.

Tea will be served
in the patio at 4:00,

give you a chance
to meet the other guests.

And, Arnold, if there's
anything you need,

anything at all,
just let me know.

You're very kind.

This report is in
scramble mode 7.

Operation cornfield arrived
at Ibiza on schedule.

Met at the dock
by the owner/operator

of the Royal Rose hotel,
one Mona Smith.

Nearly run down
by a black four-Door Fiat,

which is the Spanish Fiat.

Doubt foul play intended.

A parrot named Perky
yelled "dope"

when I walked into
the Royal Rose hotel.

However, I feel
it was not drug related

inasmuch as he apparently
calls everybody dope.

Assuming for a moment
that the black Fiat

Actually was trying
to run me down,

it is possible that Trent
was disposed of

by the old
hit-And-Run scenario.

However, I find it
impossible to believe

That the speeding Fiat

Was actually an attempt
on my life.

I have been in Ibiza
less than an hour

and have no reason to believe
that my cover is broken

or that my life is in
any danger whatsoever.

Ow!

- Ah! Sorry.
- Oh, sorry.

I'm Martha, Martha.
I work here.

Arnold Barker.
I-- I just moved in.

You haven't lost your way in this
great big mansion of a place, have you?

No, no.

I wonder if you
could tell me

what does one do with a scorpion
in one's room?

Oh, ask me tomorrow.

It's me day off today.
Ta-Ra.

Novikov.

What do you mean
"two wrong halves"?

The gun was put together
by an expert from the west--

Polish from Warsaw.

The case is real leather.

A speeding car
that does not hit,

A gun with halves
that do not fit,

A scorpion
that forgets to bite--

It is your brain
that has two wrong halves!

I do not have patience to
listen to these idiotic excuses.

Your orders are clear.
That man has to go.

Hit him over the head.
Throw him off a mountain.

Do whatever you want.

Your job is to get rid
of him, right?

So, get rid of him. Clear?

Hello.

- Hello.
- Hello.

Who is that woman?

That is Mrs. Arkwright--
A bit of a tyrant,

But she does have
some good points.

One: she's got pots of money.

Because she never
spends any, awful old bag.

Stay out of her clutches.

She'll bore you
into your grave.

Arnold Barker,
this is Mr. Lewis.

- He's an American.
- Arnold.

- Call me Harry.
- How do you do, Harry?

- More tea, Harry?
- Yeah, don't mind if I do.

Don't mind at all.

Who's that gentleman
behind the paper?

That's Jason Locke.

He's a dentist
from London, retired.

Did you hear about the guy

that couldn't get
into the dental college?

- No.
- Didn't have any pull.

Where do you
come from, Harry?

In the states, I mean.

Trenton.

Trenton, Ohio.

Have you been here long?

Six weeks.

- You must be a little homesick.
- No, no.

I lived in England for
three years during the war.

Sergeant Harry Lewis,
tail gunner.

35 missions
and not a scratch.

I say, would you stop
those horrid war stories?

Pass me the milk!

- Oh.
- Old bag.

Oh, um, I--

I don't think
I caught your name.

Barker-- Arnold Barker.

Alicia Arkwright.

You're a good-Looking man,
Mr. Barker.

And you're a good-Looking woman,
Mrs. Arkwright.

Well, I used to be
a good-Looking woman--

A knockout, as a matter of fact.

- That was a long time ago.
- Nonsense.

Alicia, did I ever tell you

I'm from Trenton, Ohio?

I have been living at the
Royal Rose for 20 years.

I've seen no less
than 14 owners come and go.

They always fail.

Retailing--
Is that what you do?

No. Animal husbandry.

I'm an overseer at a
government-Controlled experimental farm.

From where, Mr. Barker?

I have a cottage
in, um, netherwield.

- More milk?
- Yes, yes--

- Aah! Aah!
- What the hell was that?

A flower pot
fell off the balcony.

It's done that before,
you know.

My god, Arnold, that could've
knocked your brains out.

Lived here 20 years.

Seen that happen five times.

Nobody's been
actually hit, though.

This, I think,
is the closest call of all.

- I'm so sorry, Arnold.
- Oh, no, nonsense.

No. Accidents happen
all the time.

I think...

I'll go out for a little stroll.

Again?

How can you miss
a large head like that

From a height
of two meters?

And in full daylight.

No, you idiot.

He did not get up
from the chair too early.

You dropped
the flowerpot too late.

Suspicious of whom?

The American?

Oh, or this other one--
The Englishman?

Good.

Very good.

Let him be suspicious.

Throw him off.

Throw them both off.

Arrange it so they meet--

somewhere in
the village maybe, no?

Let them have a talk.

What do I care how you do it?

Just do it.
It is your job, is it not?

Slip a note under a door.
Slip a note under two doors.

Use the good half
of your brain.

A romantic scene,
Mr. Barker.

'Tis indeed, Mr. Locke.

I'm not surprised you decided
to spend your retirement years here.

I haven't, not fully.

I shall have to see
if the winter

is as damp and chilling
as the locals claim.

How do you pass
your days, Mr. Locke?

Oh, I... watch
the world around me.

I study people.

I am, if I may say so,
rather perceptive.

I try to probe
beyond the facade.

For instance,
I have the feeling

that there's more
to your presence

in the Royal Rose
than meets the eye.

What perceptions
do you have

of the other guests
at the Royal Rose--

Mrs. Arkwright,
Mr. Lewis-- Mr. Lewis?

Ah, our American
tail gunner, hmm?

Or so he says.

- You think he's not what he claims to be?
- No.

More by perception
than hard proof.

But little pointers
along the way

have convinced me
that our friend Harry

is, in fact, a member
of the C.I.A.

Well, he has all
the qualifications:

He doesn't understand
a single word of the language,

He has absolutely no idea of
the political situation in the area.

I mean, even if he had,

he wouldn't know what side
he was supposed to be on.

I also have reason to believe

that he's involved in some
clandestine operation

on the islands here.

Well, you heard him yourself.

He pointedly repeated
the name of his hometown--

Trenton.
Remember?

Trenton...

vaguely.

I'm not sure I see
what you're driving at.

Several weeks ago,
we had a guest

at the Royal Rose--
British, it seemed.

A bookseller, he said.
A tourist, he claimed.

That man and Harry Lewis
were very friendly.

I'm still not with you.

About three weeks ago,

that man did
a moonlight flit.

He was here one minute,
gone the next.

His name, Mr. Barker,
was George Trent.

Now do you see?

I see the connection
between Trent and Trenton,

If that's what you mean.

I think he was testing you.

You know the sort of thing--
Like spies exchanging

secret passwords
to identify themselves.

Have you ever been involved
with espionage, Mr. Locke?

Oh, no.
Not at all.

It must be so exciting.

Harry Lewis with the C.I.A.

What could he possibly
want with me?

What could he possibly
think I am?

Well, I have no ideas.

As I said,
I'm merely an observer.

We'll talk again,
I hope.

I want to hear more about
this mysterious George Trenton.

- Trent.
- Trent.

Well, thank you.

- Good night to you, Mr. Locke.
- Good night, Mr. Barker.

With the exception
of the scorpion,

which in all probability
was a deliberate attempt on my life,

the other incidents--

That is, the potted plant
and the black fiat--

Could very well have been
planned near-Misses

Designed to warn me
or frighten me away.

As for Jason Locke,
at first I thought him

To be just a harmless
old bachelor.

But then why did he mention

George Trent's disappearance?

And why was he following me?

It would appear our Mr. Locke

would bear some watching.

Follow that bus.

Are you sure
he followed you?

Positive.

He made a really professional
job of it, I may add.

- I just can't believe he's a British agent.
- Why not?

Well, for one,
he's such a bloody fool.

Oh, I don't know about that.

I had quite a nice chat
with him last evening.

He's a very charming fellow.

Well, I'm not talking
about charming;

I'm talking about murder.

They've already tried
three times to kill him.

Three?

You don't think that flowerpot
was an accident, do you?

But you said
it had happened before.

I didn't want him
to get suspicious.

Do you think anyone's told him
about the sandstone quarry?

Well, I certainly hope not.

What are you--?

What are you--?

Cut it out!

Whoooa!

It's Lipton's.
I trust it's all right.

Splendid.
Where's Mona?

Oh, she'll be along.
Milk or lemon?

Her name's Maria Sola.
She checked in last night.

She's an entertainer.

- Ole!
- Ole! Bravo!

- Ole!
- Thank you.

I am Maria Sola.

- Arnold Barker.
- You must be North American.

You are so very tall.

Tallish.

Maria, I've been looking
for you all morning.

Why don't you join me
in the bar for a spot of brandy?

At this hour?

How disgusting!
All right.

See you around, Arnold.

Dope!

Looks like somebody
stole your thunder, Arnold.

She's very pretty, isn't she?

I hadn't really noticed.

Martha said you wanted to
see me about something.

- I did?
- Try to remember.

I'll be right back.

Ah, Mr. Locke.

Ah, good morning, Mr. Barker.

I wanted to thank you
for showing me the way

to that wonderful beach
yesterday.

- I have no idea what you're talking about.
- It doesn't matter.

What does matter
is that I've been giving

your Mr. George Trent
a lot of thought.

I checked the register to find
his whereabouts in Britain,

And guess what.

I can't possibly.

The page that would have had
his name has been torn out.

Oh, that's most curious.

Possibly a mistake
on somebody's part.

The plot thickens.
Wouldn't you agree, Mr. Locke?

Perhaps.

Perhaps I'm being melodramatic.

Would you care for some tea,
Mr. Locke?

No, thank you. No.

I have to be on my way.

What's the matter
with Mr. Locke?

I have no idea.

Did you remember what you wanted
to see me about?

Yes-- The sandstone quarry.

Is it worth seeing?

It's hardly
a tourist attraction.

Quite an eerie place,
actually.

I never did see what he found
so interesting in it.

- He?
- George Trent.

He was a guest who stayed here
and ran off without paying his bill.

- He said he went there a lot.
- Well, then, it must be worth looking at.

Where is it?

It's on the outskirts
of town.

One day I'll play guide
and take you there.

Why not today?

All right.

They used to use the sandstone
for building blocks.

The quarry gave out
20 years ago.

It's not a very
cheerful place.

Depends on who you're with.

I forgot my camera.
I'll be right back.

Really, I'm not
very good at this.

- Say cheese.
- Cheese.

Back up a bit.

A bit more.

More.

Whoa! Whoa!

Oh, my god, Arnold!
You almost fell.

Hold me.

It's all right, Mona.

It's all right.

Don't move.

The corner of the car
in front of you

Has gone over the edge.

The front wheel on this side
is almost there,

Right on the rim.

One false move,
and over we go.

It's a hundred-Foot drop.
I'm terrified.

Just don't move.

There.

The parking brake
on the Citro�n deux chevaux

is one of the strongest
in the motoring world.

It has to be, see, to compensate
for the fact that the gears are so light.

As a matter of fact, the gears
on the deux chevaux are so weak

that the car cannot
be started with motion--

That is, a tow or a push.

Interesting.

Okay.

Now, you lean forward
towards me slowly.

I'm going to open the door.

And we're going to jump.

- I'm going to sneeze.
- Pinch your nose.

- All right?
- Mm-Hmm.

Okay.

Move this way.

And don't let go of your nose.

Easy.

Easy does it.

Okay. Now!

Gesundheit.

I don't believe my ears.

The car went
over a cliff, exploded,

And he got back to the hotel
with his own two feet?

We are witnessing
a resurrection here.

Another Lazarus!

All right, all right,
I believe you.

Now, listen to me carefully.

Because of my very good nature,

I'm giving you another 24 hours
to dispose of him.

Now, this is your last chance,
you understand?

And if we're about to witness
another resurrection,

It will be one that you will
have to perform on yourself!

A romantic spot, isn't it?

Yes, it is.

You, um, wanted
to see me?

I heard Mrs. Arkwright
and Jason Locke talking.

- They said you were a British agent.
- They did?

- I need an agent.
- You do?

- For my act.
- Oh.

Flamenco, flamenco!
I'm sick of flamenco.

I'm ready
for bigger things.

I'm-- I'm sure
you are.

I wish I was an agent,
but I'm not.

Oh.

Oh, well.

It's still a romantic spot.

Yes. Yes, it is.

Is it like the spot
Mona took you to?

Oh, no, no.

No. It was more like
a... gravel pit.

But you must have
kissed her...

like this.

- What's wrong?
- Someone's coming.

A couple

In search of solitude.

You see?
A couple.

A couple of hammers.

Stop here.

Light me.

I'll get out here.

I would rather walk
than ride with a mad man.

But--

Good night.

Operation cornfield,
drive.

Kill the lights.

Board the chopper.

- Good evening, Porter.
- Good evening, sir.

- Well, get in.
- Yes, sir.

I hope you haven't forgotten how
to fly one of these things,

Light aircraft operation being
part of your basic training.

- Yes, sir. I can fly it.
- Good.

Up.

Porter, we're going
backwards.

Yes, sir, I know.

There we are.

Just takes a while
to get the feel of it.

Well, now,
just circle the field

And give me a report
on the progress of your mission.

um, well, there
hasn't been any progress,

not yet.

I've only been here two days.

I'm perfectly aware
how long you've been here.

What I want to know
is if anything's happened.

Yes, sir, but nothing
leading anywhere,

at least not as far
as I can see.

Well, tell me.

Give me all
the bits and pieces.

Well, there's Jason Locke.

He's a retired dentist
from London.

He seems pretty suspicious.

But then again,
they all do.

Has there been any mention
of George Trent?

Yes. They talk about him
all the time.

There are some who think that
he skipped off in the night

without paying his bill,

And the others think
that foul play was involved.

- Foul play?
- Yes.

Something about
the sandstone quarry.

- I nearly fell in myself.
- Fell in?

Yeah, just before my car
went over the cliff.

Am I to understand there have
been attempts on your life?

Five, including
the flowerpot.

But, in all honesty,
I think only the scorpion in my bed

and the two Russians
trying to run me down tonight

were the only definite
thrusts in my direction.

You'd better take this.

Not exactly a cannon,
but it has slight recoil.

An 800-Pound impact
at 20 feet.

Thank you, sir.
Do I have to sign for it?

No.

Are there any further
instructions?

Yes: stay alive.

- Good morning!
- Hello!

- Not so far it hasn't been.
- Dope!

Mona was out late
last night,

decided to sleep in,
leaves all the work to me.

Slave driver,
that's what she is.

One can always quit.

- You can't.
- Beg your pardon?

Look, Arnold, I know it's none of
my business what you're up to.

Maybe you're not
up to anything,

but I think I ought
to tell you.

- Tell me what?
- I know what you really are-- Your job.

My job?

Mm. When I was taking clean
towels to your room yesterday,

I found this on the floor.

Well, you must
have dropped it.

Don't worry, I won't say
anything to the others.

I'll get your breakfast,
inspector.

Good grief.
Scotland Yard.

Oh, there you are!

Guess what happened.

Old Jason Locke
took off last night.

Didn't say "goodbye"
or "go to hell."

Probably left a bill.

They usually do
when they sneak off.

Mr. Locke did not sneak off.

His bill was paid
and he left his key.

- He checked out?
- Not exactly. But he's a grown man.

- He can come and go as he likes.
- He likes Ibiza.

He was planning to spend
his retirement here this year.

Apparently he changed
his mind.

Or somebody
changed it for him!

Mr. Locke did not check out
of this establishment.

His suitcases
are up in the attic.

Sic.

Sic. Sic.

Bite.

Bite, bite, bite.

It seems there is
a disagreement

as to who was the last
to see Mr. Locke.

I believe I was.

That would've been about 4:00.

4:00.

And was he acting
strange in any way?

As a matter of fact,
he was.

That's why I feel sure
something is wrong.

Mr. Locke was upset,
which is completely out of character.

Hmm. Did you and he talk,
Mrs. Arkwright?

Briefly.

He said he had
somewhere to go.

I told him not to forget
our chess game.

And he said he would not

be playing that evening.

A statement that could fit

with a person who was about
to slip away covertly.

He didn't slip away.

No, I saw him after 4:00.
Must've been around 6:00.

6:00.

And was he upset, Mr. Lewis?

Not a bit.
I was in the bar.

I saw him cross the lobby.
He seemed fine to me.

A man who spends
half his life behind bars

rarely knows
what time it is.

Behind bars?

- You have been in prison, Mr. Lewis?
- No, no, no, no.

She means that I drink a lot.

I see.

Who have we here?

Mr. Barker--
Arnold Barker.

Dope.

Perhaps you would care to
offer an opinion, Mr. Barker?

An opinion?

As to what happened
to Mr. Locke.

Oh, I-- I have
really no idea.

I have only
been here a few days

and I-- I hardly
knew the man.

Sorry, I--
I can't help you.

Oh, yes, you can.

Go on, tell him, Arnold.
Tell him who you really are.

- What?
- Mr. Barker's a detective.

He's from Scotland Yard.
He's got a card to prove it.

- I've seen--
- No, no, no, no, no.

It's-- It's a mistake,
a joke.

I have nothing to do
with Scotland Yard.

But you have
an identification card.

I've seen it.

No, no, no.
It doesn't mean anything, that card.

I mean, you can buy them
in any London joke shop.

They sell them to the tourists
by the thousands.

They take your picture, and then the
put it on right while you're waiting.

Where is this card,
Mr. Barker?

I-- I don't--
I don't think I...

oh, yes, I--
Yes, I do.

I'm quite proud
of it, actually.

It looks so official.

I've had a lot
of fun with it.

What I do is I leave it
lying about

and see the finder's reaction.

That's how she saw it.
Isn't it, Martha?

Impersonating
an officer of the law.

No, no, no, no.
Nothing like that.

No, fun--
Plain fun.

I think you had
better come along

to the police station,
Mr. Barker.

Please.

Excuse me for taking so long.

Oh, it's perfectly all right.

You do not, of course,
have a criminal record.

No, no, of course not,
but you had to check.

We also checked on
Jason Locke,

and I am happy to report we
have found the missing gentleman.

Oh, good.
I'm delighted.

He is at the sacred heart
clinic with a head wound.

It would appear he fell

into a sandstone pit.

It is a common accident
here for the tourists.

Oh, is it?
How curious.

If indeed
it was an accident.

Is Mr. Locke suggesting
that he was attacked?

Mr. Locke is unable to claim
anything at the moment.

He's still unconscious.

When he comes to, possibly he can
tell us how he landed in the pit

And what kind of magic
he used to get himself

from the sandstone quarry
to the clinic.

But perhaps you have the answer
to that question already.

No.

This is yours.

Aren't they fun?

The card, as you very well know,
is genuine.

You have been cleared
by Scotland Yard.

Good day, detective
inspector Barker.

Good day, captain.
Thank you.

Hey, Arnold, guess what!
They found him!

He's in the clinic
with a battered head.

I was right!
Foul play!

Arnold, what happened
between you and the cops?

Well, they checked
with London and found out

I was telling the truth
about the Scotland Yard card.

- Oh, I feel such a fool.
- It's my fault.

I should have told you
straight off it was a joke.

Poor Mr. Locke-- Getting hit
over the head is no joke.

And when he wakes up, somebody
is gonna be in a lot of trouble.

Attempted murder--
That's what I call it.

That is not
our problem, okay?

- I could use a drink.
- I think we all could.

Come on, everybody.

- Each and every body get a bottle and--
- Right.

Ole!

My glass is empty!

Good grief.

Come here, my dear,
and I'll buy you another one.

A toast to every injured person
in the world.

- Injured people.
- Injured!

- And the queen!
- The queen!

Hey, did you hear the one about
the guy who was at death's door

and the doctor was trying
to pull him through?

You heard it.

Let me tell you
what happened to me

At the police station, Mona.

- You already did... twice.
- I did?

Then I'm drunk,
and I must be on my way.

Hey, Arnold,
do the police have any idea

Who may have smashed
old Jason on the head?

They did not, and they did not
have any idea

who took him from the sandstone
pit to the clinic.

Isn't that right, Maria?

- I wouldn't know.
- No, of course you wouldn't.

- How did you?
- How did I what?

- Know what happened.
- Oh, the captain told me.

But if Mr. Locke
was unconscious

when he arrived
at the clinic

and is still unconscious,

how did they know he was
brought from the quarry?

Elementary, my dearest Watson.

His shoes were covered
with sandstone.

That sounded a little
complicated to me.

Why don't we all just wait
until Jason wakes up

and ask him
what the hell happened?

That's the first
intelligent thing

I ever heard you say,
Harry Lewis.

Thank you, ma'am.

Well, now,
if you'll excuse me,

I'll go and water
my geraniums.

- Good night, all.
- Good night!

- Good night.
- 'Night.

His hand was shaking

And the doctor said to him...

"do you drink a lot?"

And he said, "no,
I spill most of it."

I'll wait for you right here.

Good grief.

Perky.

Get the net!
Get the net!

Here.

- Just jump!
- Jump, Arnold!

Jump!
Jump, Arnold!

Jump!

All right, jump! Come
on, get out of there!

- Jump!
- Jump!

- Arnold, you all right?
- Yeah.

Be a good fellow and take
care of Perky, would you?

Take care of Perky.

Arnold, Arnold!
Hey, Arnold!

Perky!

Bite.

Sic.

Sic.

Bite.

Bite.

Look, all I wanna do
is get into that house.

Don't ask me why.

I just think that the answer to
all my problems is in there.

Do you understand?

Good.

My name is Arnold.

Well, it isn't really,
but that's not important.

What's important is that
I get into that house.

This is my first mission,
and I'm not doing very well.

And I may never
get another chance

if I foul this up, not ever.

We're gonna be friends,
are we, hmm?

We're gonna be friends, huh?

Oh, we're gonna be
good friends, aren't we?

Yes.

Now, I don't know your name,
so I should give you a name.

Bruce.

Okay, Bruce,

you wanna come for a stroll
with me, Bruce?

Okay, come on.
Let's go.

Come on with me.
Come on, come on. Good boy.

They've got angus.

Stay.

Porter?

What on earth
are you doing here?

Are you all right?

Yes, sir.

Allow me to present agent 11.

Oh.

Uh, I thought you were
being held prisoner.

And you wanted to save me?

Oh, that was most
considerate of you,

but I'm sure
you could have found

some other way of achieving
your objective.

But now that you're here,

I may as well fill you in
on what's been happening.

- Won't you sit down?
- Yes, sir.

- Thank you.
- Now to the nub.

George Trent--
We didn't know who had handled him,

So we sent you to find out.

- That much you're aware of.
- Yes, sir.

What you're not
aware of, of course,

Is the real reason
you were sent here.

It's sometimes referred to in
the trade as an invitation waltz.

In other words,
the best way to get

a man to remove his mask
is to take off one's own.

So it was decided
to let the villain

know you were coming and why.

- Clear?
- Yes, sir.

In order to help
the waltz on a little bit,

we left a few gaps
in your briefing--

Why you were staying at the
Royal Rose, for instance.

You would have to
rely on invention.

Hopefully, your lies
would be seen through.

- Hopefully?
- Yes.

You will be taken as a friend
of George Trent's,

investigating his disappearance

or, alternatively,
a policeman doing the same.

So, an imitation
identity card

was placed in your room,

saying that you were
from Scotland Yard.

Imitation? Scotland Yard
cleared it as genuine.

Well, they were
doing us a favor.

We've done them so many.

So, what you were using was
the white hunter scenario--

The goat to catch the tiger.

The goat is tied
in a clearing

surrounded by pits,
and the tiger falls

into one of those pits
when he is attracted

by the bleating
of the goat.

Exactly.
You were the bait.

It's just that so often the tiger
avoids the pits and kills the goat.

That was a chance
we had to take.

Why?

Very good question.
The answer in due course.

Ah, tea!

You're probably curious about
Jason Locke's involvement in all this.

He's as harmless
as old Mrs. Arkwright

or that colonial fellow.

- What was his name?
- Harry Lewis.

Quite so, yes.

Two sugars, isn't it?

Yes, please, Maria.

I'll call you that,
if you don't mind.

Maria Sola--

I rather like
the name, actually.

Angus:
As I was saying,

Jason Locke came
into it by chance.

A note telling you to go to the
stone quarry the night before last

was placed under his door
instead of yours.

So he took a taxi.

And when he got there, he was
mistaken for one of your friends,

bashed over the head,
and left for dead.

The rest you know.

Well, of course,
what you don't know

is that we made
a telephone call

late last night
to the Royal Rose

saying that Mr. Locke
had recovered consciousness

and wanted to tell you
who had attacked him.

- So the woman got you drunk...
- Woman?

...Locked you in the attic,
and set fire to the building.

She was on her way to the
clinic to deal with Mr. Locke

when we apprehended her
and took her into custody.

Yes, the villain is a lady.

Bring her in, will you?

Yes, sir.

By the way,
we in the service.

Don't want the Russians to know
that you are involved in this.

So if you open your mouth
during the next interview,

You'll regret it
for the rest of your life.

Come along, come along.
Get yourself in here.

- We haven't got all night.
- What is all this?

Gonna play it
that way, are we?

Sit down.

You know who we are.

Maybe you think
we don't know who you are.

- I don't understand you, not in the least.
- Right.

To show you what a sweet guy I am,
I'll play it your way.

I'll spell it out for you.

We're businessmen.

We operate all over Europe.

Multinational corporation
you might call us,

but we don't have no offices,
we don't keep no books.

You won't find us listed
on the stock exchange.

Now I'll do a bit more
spelling for you.

Just in case you've
forgotten who you are,

You're a russki.

You work for Moscow,
K.G.B.

I don't know what
you're talking about.

I'm talking about
acid, coke, horse.

That's a lovely bit of stuff
you people are running.

That's why we're going
to take over the operation.

First, we have to know the name
of the incoming connection.

Once we know the supplier,
he'll switch to us.

Money talks. If it doesn't,
we use muscle.

- I think you're with me now.
- Not at all.

Oh ho, come on, lady.

We know all about you.

You gave yourself away
from the start,

Didn't you, with the car--

Pushing Arnold a little bit
too hard so it missed him.

The scorpion, the flowerpot,
and all the rest--

That last bit--
Getting him drunk,

Locking him into the attic,
setting fire to the building.

Hoo hoo hoo.
Naughty.

I can still smell
the petrol on you.

I... was filling up
my lighter,

and I spilled fluid on myself.

Of course you did.

Me, I'll believe anything,

But there's a man standing
in the doorway who won't:

George Trent.

You hit him over the head
in the sandstone quarry,

The same as you did
Jason Locke.

- Hello, Mona.
- That'll be all, George.

Well, now we've got
that settled,

I don't think we need
waste any more time.

We can make you talk,
you know.

I'll tell you
what I'm going to do.

Just to show you
what a sweet guy I am,

I'm going to let Arnold
talk to you alone.

Maybe he can make you
see the light.

If that doesn't work, too bad.

No one can say
I haven't tried.

Like I said,
I'm a very sweet guy.

Why don't you just tell him?

I can't.
It wouldn't be right.

I made such a mess
of things.

Well, we all make mistakes.

- I'm sorry, you know?
- Yes, I know.

- And I'm glad I failed.
- So am I.

I do admit sometimes
it was stupidity,

Like the car.

I was the one who moved the
log from the edge of the cliff.

Then I forgot
and got in with you.

- That wasn't very smart, I'm afraid.
- No.

But, like I said, mostly it
was because my heart wasn't in it.

This was my first
field assignment.

Before they just used me
as a courier.

The only reason
they gave me this job

is because all the good agents
were busy.

You see, I've never touched
the top in anything.

Neither have I.

- Complete dummy, you might say.
- Complete.

I actually hate this work.

I wouldn't do anything
to harm my country

or the service;
I just hate it.

But they won't
allow you to quit.

And once I'm back behind the iron curtain,
I'll never get out again.

I'll be doomed to Moscow and
cold feet for the rest of my life.

He'll be coming back soon.

I don't think
I could stand torture.

I'm not terribly brave.

I suppose I'll tell him
everything he wants to know,

- Even about the drug.
- The drug?

The one when given to a secret agent
makes them tell everything they know,

the one you were
sent here to find.

I was sent to find?

We were tipped by British
intelligence that you were coming.

That's why it was decided
to do away with you.

Son of a bitch.

That's the code name of the
agent who leaked the information.

Angus Watkins.

Can you fly a helicopter?

Of course.
Part of my basic training.

Thought so.

Spies can do anything,
including getting you out of here.

Come on.

No, I can't
let you do it!

If you help me,
you'll be ruined.

Let me worry about that,
all right? Let's go.

- No!
- Look, remember me?

I'm the guy you tried
to kill five times.

- Then why?
- Because...

you'd do the same for me if it
was the other way around, okay?

It's okay.
He's a friend of mine.

Bruce.

Bruce, come on, boy.

Bruce, come on.

- Ready to absorb?
- Ready.

It's a 20-Minute flight
to Majorca.

Once you're there, take a boat
and double back to the mainland.

Go to a town called Benidorm
on the Costa del Sol.

It's not only paradise;
it's the melting pot

of every nationality
in Europe.

You can get lost there.
Take a new identity, start over again.

They'll never find you.
I've often thought about doing it myself.

Helping me like this--
How will you get away with it?

I'll tell them you got me in a
judo hold and took my gun away.

- Do you have a gun?
- Yeah.

Yeah, it's here somewhere.

Here it is.
Careful, it's loaded.

- I don't like guns.
- Well, neither do I.

Did anyone ever tell you, you are
a wonderful man, Appleton Porter?

- No.
- Well, you are.

Do you think they'll follow us?

I know they will.
Hold on.

- Good luck.
- I love you.

Like I said, a complete dummy!

And in conclusion,
I can only say

Operation cornfield
was a complete failure.

The only good thing is
it will go down

against Appleton Porter's
record, not mine.

As for Appleton,
he was, as I hoped,

the right man for the job.

Only a dummy like Porter
could have got that woman

out of our hands
and back to Moscow

Without her ever knowing
what we were really after.

For our part,
we hired a guard dog

suitably useless so as not
to scare off Porter.

We took the ruthless line
and threatened torture

and also made sure
that Porter knew

where the helicopter was
for the escape.

Poor Porter.

I'm afraid he took his failure
rather badly.

He asked for leave,
which was granted.

Though, why on earth
he would want to go

to a place called Benidorm,
god alone knows.

And in conclusion,
I am pleased to report

That Operation Cornfield
was a complete failure.

We were correct in giving
this assignment

to the young female agent
Mona Kuznetsova.

It was established
beforehand that she was

properly vulnerable,
properly inexperienced,

and was basically incapable
of killing a man,

and an attractive
western man at that.

Our agents on Ibiza
were certain

she would have soon
defected anyway.

As for her so-Called
backup team,

it consisted of two
rather sluggish men

especially chosen for the purpose.

They were given
unmatching rifle parts

and a faulty Spanish car,

typical example
of western technology.

As a result,
the Englishman Porter

managed to escape every time,

thereby denying the British

the one thing they wanted most:

A confrontation

And a chance to learn
the nature of the drug.

In a way, I'm sorry
for the Englishman Porter.

He faces severe punishment

for not allowing himself
to be killed.

Mona Kuznetsova
is now somewhere in the west,

no doubt fearing
for her life.

She's not aware
of the fact

that we do not intend
to bother her in any way.

Our organization
is better off without her.

This is colonel Novikov.
End of report.

Ressynch: Kilo

Ressynch: Kilo
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