Original subtitles

Check.

Toby Esterhase did say two full milk bottles and all's well and you may enter?

Yes, George. And that's the second time.

Is it? Well, let's not pretend we're not nervous.

Check, George.

Ready to record? Shall we try it? I'll go upstairs.

What would you like... Monteverdi, Irving Berlin, Mick Jagger?

This machinery, installed at great expense to the British taxpayer,

is voice-activated...

When I stop speaking, the tape will stop recording.

See?

Old man river That old man river

He just keeps rolling...

Hello, here's something...

Soldier's just arriving. That's all three of them in there now.

- Under starter's orders. - Importantly, who gets away first?

Just going for a walk. Back with you in a minute.

Peter? All clear?

- As far as I can judge. No promises. - You should come down now.

- Proceed? - Proceed.

- What's that? - Nothing, just fiddling.

- You there? - Yes.

Someone just leaving. Can't quite make him out.

Called a taxi right to the door. Cheeky.

Thank you. Join us.

- What will you drink? - Scotch. Bloody great big one.

Have you anything on you that I should...

- Will Alleline go to Paris? - He's got to.

Stay just long enough to...

He knows Tarr would never stick his neck out...

Something to buy back his good name...and then some.

You know what it is. Karla's got 24 hours to get me out.

The time has come, Aleks.

You!

You...! You!

You butchered my agents... How many since? How many?

Two hundred? Three? FOUR?!

- Stop that! - Alright! Alright!

- Are you armed, Bill? - I'm a Soviet diplomat.

- This behavior... - Shut up!

Peter, will you phone Percy Alleline and ask him and Roy Bland

to come here immediately? Then Lacon, then Toby Esterhase.

I think the first thing to do is to play them this evening's tapes.

That should save a great deal of time in explanations.

Aleks...really. Oh, they're on.

Do you mind if I finish my drink, George?

- No one out there you noticed? - Quiet as the grave.

Very proper, George. Don't want anything irrelevant, do we?

Very tidy, George.

- Will Alleline go to Paris? - He's got to.

He'll delay just long enough to keep his dignity.

He can't jump the moment Ricki Tarr tells him to.

Tarr would never stick his neck out unless he'd something precious,

something to buy back his good name...and then some.

And you and I know what it is.

Karla's got 24 hours to pull me out. The time has come, Aleks.

Well, that's that. Congratulations, George.

Next step, gentlemen?

Would you agree, Percy, that our best course

is to make some positive use of Bill Haydon?

We need to salvage whatever's left of the networks he's betrayed.

Yes.

We sell Bill to Moscow Center for as many of our men in the field as can be saved.

For humanitarian reasons. Professionally, of course, they're finished.

Quite.

The sooner you open negotiations with Karla, the better.

You're much better placed to talk terms with our friend downstairs than I am.

Polyakov remains your direct link with Karla.

The only difference is this time you know it.

It's definitely your job, Percy. You're still Chief.

Officially...for the moment.

Very well, George.

Excuse me, sir.

Mr Guillam says is it alright if the inquisitors take Mr Haydon away now, sir?

Shall I go first?

All the best, Percy.

I want Fawn to stay with him.

I'm sorry about the assault ...unprofessional.

It was just that...it would have to be Bill Haydon, wouldn't it?

He was always our hero, in capital letters.

I mean for the younger lot ...my kind, anyway.

The antiquated English patriot.

"Never mind all the dirt we have to do. It's for England."

The funny thing is, it's an effort not to think of him with affection.

I suppose Bill would say that means you've grown up, Peter.

Always good for a laugh, wasn't he, Bill?

I'd like to thank you, by the way. You helped enormously. Truly, Peter.

Lacon assures me there's been no coercion. I hope that's true.

Oh, yes. No complaints, George.

Bit of a nose-bleed, keep feeling dizzy. I'm sure it's just the excitement of it all.

- Why have you been weeping? - Sheer exasperation.

The pettiness of our inquisitors. They're utterly incompetent.

They believe I know the names of Karla's other moles around the world.

Idiots! I can't talk to people like that.

You're prepared to say something to me, according to Lacon.

Can't Percy get a move on doing his horse-trading with Karla?

I'm sure it'll only be a day or two now.

- What do you want to know? - Oh...why? When? How?

Why? You ask that!

Because it was necessary... that's why! Someone had to.

We were bluffed! You, me, Control...all of us.

The Circus talent spotters all those years ago...

they picked us when we were golden with hope.

Told us we were on our way to the Holy Grail, a lifetime of glory in front of us.

Service to the great cause. Freedom's protectors.

Oh, my God...what a question ..."Why?"

Do you know what's killing Western democracy, George?

Greed...and constipation... moral, political, aesthetic.

I hate America very deeply.

The economic repression of the masses...institutionalized.

Even Lenin couldn't foresee the extent of that.

Britain...oh, dear!

No viability whatever in world affairs.

I suppose that's when it began. Turning my eyes to the east, I mean.

When I saw how trivial we'd become as a nation...say the forties.

By 1950, I was slipping Karla occasional gifts of intelligence,

carefully selected morsels to help the Russian cause against America.

At that time I was scrupulous not to give Moscow anything harmful to ourselves,

our own agents in the field.

I still believe the secret services

are the only real expression of a nation's character.

Until the mid-fifties, I still had hopes...

lingering loyalty to what WE represented.

Self-delusion, of course.

We were already America's streetwalkers.

I was granted Soviet citizenship twelve years ago.

They've given me a couple of medals.

- What medals? - I didn't ask. Does it matter?

- Quite a lot to Bill, one supposes. - Possibly.

We're going to get a bit more from him, I hope.

I do hope so, George.

He's right about the state of affairs down there, slovenly.

They don't even patrol the perimeter, day or night. I have mentioned it.

The thinking on Sarratt is that it should be as inconspicuous as possible.

I'm concerned for Haydon's safety.

Aren't you being a little over-dramatic?

He can only go to Russia, and we're sending him there, anyway.

The number of people who need to be told about all this,

as we agree, must be kept as small as possible.

I suppose your wife will have to be among them. I know you told me...

she and Haydon...over and done with now...

There's always the unknown factor in matters of the heart, isn't there?

I'm thinking about the future, any possible further contact.

If Ann doesn't know...she does meet so many different sorts of people.

- She gets around. - I'm sorry, George.

Not at all. I quite take your point.

Ann must let us know of any approach, directly or indirectly,

- made by or on behalf of... - Exactly.

Or even apparently on behalf of, or merely concerning, Bill Haydon.

- Thank you. - I was going to tell her anyway.

You might call it balancing the books.

Absolutely.

One thing perplexes me more than anything else about the mole conspiracy.

Karla devised Operation Witchcraft

primarily as a means of putting poor Percy Alleline on Control's throne.

But why didn't Karla want Haydon to take over the Circus himself?

It would've been less difficult to arrange,

with all Bill's acknowledged accomplishments.

No, no. We had the perfect set-up.

Percy made the running, I slipstreamed behind him.

Roy and Toby did the legwork.

Far better for me to remain the freewheeling subordinate,

the laughing cavalier.

Being in charge could have bogged me down...

admin, meetings, dinners, chewing the cud in Whitehall.

- Never happened to Control. - A natural recluse, Control.

I couldn't have behaved like that and got away with it. No, no, George.

Karla and I agreed. I would have been wasted as Chief.

- Could have done it, of course. - Of course.

I'd like to go inside now.

Yes, you're right.

The Czechoslovakian business was a bit of a desperate throw.

But something pretty bold was called for.

I was certain Control was getting very warm indeed.

All that burrowing in the files he was doing.

It was paying off, I knew.

He'd built up an uncomfortably impressive inventory

of the number of operations I'd either blown or managed to cripple.

Then, of course, he was narrowing his field of suspects.

A short list of officers of a certain age, experience, rank.

He did well, considering he was so ill. Surprised Karla.

Was the offer of information from General Stevcek genuine?

Good Lord, no. It was a fix from start to finish.

Stevcek existed, of course. Still does. Very distinguished man.

But he never offered anything to Control or anybody else.

Did you expect Control to send Jim Prideaux?

Well...obviously, we needed to be certain Control would rise to the bait.

We had to spell it out that he'd got a big gun, to make the story stick.

We knew he'd only settle for someone outside London Station.

- Someone he trusted. - And who spoke Czech, of course.

Naturally.

It had to be a man who was old Circus, to bring the temple down a bit.

Yes, I see the logic of that.

It was perhaps the most famous partnership the Circus ever had.

You and Jim, back in the old days.

"The iron fist in the iron glove." Who was it who coined that?

I got him home, didn't I?

Yes, that was good of you.

- The thing with Ann was Karla's idea. - Was it?

Yes. Did you think it was hers?

Karla always thought, if there was a threat, it would come from you.

He said you were quite good. But you had this one weak spot...

Ann.

It was a double fix, actually.

On the one hand, you weren't likely to think of me as a Circus spy

if you were preoccupied with what your wife and I got up to in bed.

And on the other, if it was well known that I was her lover,

it was bound to look like personal vengeance

if you ever did suggest I might be the mole.

So Karla said, not to strain it,

but if possible...join the queue.

- Point? - Point.

Presumably it was on Karla's instructions

you were with Ann on the night of the Prideaux shoot-up? As insurance?

Oh, yes, he was adamant on that.

They tell me I could be away tomorrow, or the day after at the latest.

Can you make sure any mail gets forwarded from my club?

And the balance of my salary, of course.

I will.

- Anything else? - Oh, yes, I nearly forgot.

You got a pen somewhere?

Thanks.

Girlfriend. Give her this.

I'm away on work of national importance.

Maybe for years...so she can forget me...

Well, I can't take her with me, can I?

Even if I could, she'd be a bloody millstone.

Oh, and...

there's one particular boy. A cherub, but no angel.

Haven't seen a lot of him, but better give him a couple of hundred.

Can you do that out of the reptile fund?

- I would think so. - Good.

Oh, God, I'm tired.

- My pen, please. - What?

Oh...certainly. Sorry.

Thank you.

Don't look round, Bill.

Oh, it's you, Jim.

Come to say goodbye? Nice of you.

Glad to see you haven't lost your touch. Must be in pretty good shape.

Why did you get me back?

I couldn't leave you rotting in a Czech prison.

Russian.

Why didn't Karla finish me off? Was that out of delicacy to you?

Wasn't that, was it? You both thought a corpse might make

a lot more fuss than just another repatriated, harmless cripple.

- Didn't you? - The shooting wasn't part of the plan, Jim.

No, not the shooting.

But everything else.

...and the food shall be forestored to the land against the seven years of famine,

which shall be in the land of Egypt.

That the land perish not through famine.

And the thing was good in the eyes of Pharaoh and in the eyes of all his servants.

And Pharaoh said unto his servants, "Can we find such a one as this,"

"a man in whom the spirit of God is?" And Pharaoh said unto Joseph,

"Forasmuch as God hath... shewed...thee all this..."

"Forasmuch as God hath...shewed..."

"Forasmuch as..."

"Forasmuch as God hath... sh...sh...shewed...!"

"Forasmuch as God hath showed thee all this."

"Forasmuch as God hath showed thee all this,"

"there is none so discreet and wise as thou art."

"Thou shalt be over my house,"

"and according unto thy word shall all my people be ruled."

"Only in the throne will I be greater than thou..."

It seems that at 10.30, Haydon told the guards he felt a bit sick

and thought a breath of air would help him.

Because his case was now considered closed,

they saw no reason to tear themselves away from some horror film

that had just started on the TV and they let him wander off.

Half an hour later, they thought they'd better go and look for him.

He'd received no letters, messages during the day.

I was the only outsider to see him.

But his suit had come back from the cleaners.

Possibly a message was concealed in it, inviting him to a rendezvous.

The guards had not inspected the suit before giving it to him.

I'm afraid that doesn't surprise me.

Any comments, anyone?

If someone went to the cleaners, said he lost his ticket,

could he look through the stuff ready for collection?

That's one way.

Would the Russians kill Haydon?

It gives Karla all the reason he needs to cancel the deal on our networks.

But Moscow Center prides itself on getting its people back.

Important point, Roy.

Well, WHO, then?

We will all, of course, have to account for our movements last night.

Necessary formality.

Also Mendel, Fawn, Ricki Tarr.

Then, as to the future...

I've been asked to...look after things for a while.

I'd like everyone to take some leave.

Afterwards there'll be some... redeployment...

for those of you who wish to remain with the service.

George.

- Hello. - Ann.

- Just the same. - You too.

No...Julian, was that his name?

Jake. And no Jake. Gone. Actually got a job somewhere.

I'm quite free at the moment. Enjoying it.

Uncle Guzzle Guts is away too. Madrid. So I've got the house to myself.

I've brought you this. It goes...

Oh, George. Very nice of you.

What's been happening? How've you all been?

Did Bill say anything about me?

I mean me as a person, what he thought about me?

- Not really. - Are you glad he's dead?

Please...don't say "Not really."

No, I'm not glad.

There was a moment when I knew, when I heard his voice, talking to Polyakov.

Just for a moment I wanted to shoot him...but it passed.

Bill betrayed totally, didn't he? Everything, everyone?

Was he taking some kind of revenge?

- He must have talked to you. - Should I have passed that on?

Pillow talk?

Describe Bill.

Yet another man trying to find a little place in history.

But George, Bill standing at the center of some secret stage,

playing world against world, he had a wonderful time.

He enjoyed himself. He loved being a traitor.

I'm glad he's dead. His life was over.

- I'm glad for him. - Did you love him?

Ann, did you?

No, George.

Poor George. Life's such a puzzle to you, isn't it?

Lord, now lettest thou thy servant

Depart in peace

According to

Thy word

For mine eyes have seen

Thy salvation

Which thou hast prepared before the face

Of all people

To be a light

To lighten

The gentiles

And to be the glory

Of thy people

Israel

Glory be to the Father

And to the Son

And to the Holy Ghost

As it was in the beginning

Is now and ever shall be

World without end

Amen