Michael Collins Page #2

---

But l've been on your heels for weeks...

...making notes of your speeches.

Let's just say that you can be persuasive.

You work for the Castle.

l know.

What was it you said...

...'Our only weapon is our refusal.'

l am getting very tired of the spectacle...

...of an upstart dominating

these entire cabinet proceedings.

l've said it before and l'll say it again:

The minister is, as usual,

exceeding his brief.

And just what is my brief?

lntelligence.

Bullshit.

l'm minister for gunrunning,

daylight robbery and general mayhem.

Until we're armed,

nothing's going to happen.

But as minister of intelligence,

l'd like to inform you...

...that each of us is to be arrested...

...tonight.

How does the minister know this?

Now, Cathal, don't exceed your brief.

Names, addresses, next of kin,

of the whole cabinet.

They know more about us

than our mothers do.

How do we know it's genuine?

We don't, chief. But it could well be.

So, nobody sleeps at home tonight.

l disagree.

Do sleep at home tonight.

lf Mr. Collins has been gulled,

we'll sleep soundly.

lf not, they will arrest the cabinet.

The public outcry will be deafening.

Maybe then the world will listen.

You can't be serious. We've been

rotting in English jails long enough!

l...am...

...serious, Michael.

F*** them.

-Mind your tongue.

-l f***ing will in future.

Mother of God.

Pull in.

Christ, the G man was right.

Come on.

This is an illegal arrest...

...by an illegal force of occupation!

Jesus Christ.

lt's the safest house in Dublin now.

May as well stay the night.

What does the minister think?

Which minister?

We're the only two left.

l'm changing your brief.

l hereby appoint you

minister for general mayhem.

What's your brief?

The same.

Plus one other portfolio.

Jailbreaks.

How are youse?

Didn't l tell you he snores?

How are you?

Do you remember Kitty?

lndeed l do. Do you remember me?

Vaguely.

All right...

...l know when l'm not wanted.

See you.

-Good night.

-Good night, Mr. Boland.

l'll wrestle you for her.

Go away.

She's not interested in a bogman like you.

Want to bet?

Come here, Boland!

Leave me alone!

Give us a hand, will you?

Give me an ear!

F*** off and leave me alone!

What's your game, Mr. Broy?

-Don't have a game.

-Why did you give me that list?

Why didn't you act on it?

The cabinet thinks it's useful in jail.

You obviously don't agree.

Look...

...Castle informers have run

us through like woodworm.

You could play the same game.

You're a queer bloody G man.

You don't believe me, do you?

l'm not sure.

What would convince you?

Show me the Castle files.

l'd never get them out.

No...

...but you could get me in.

Jesus, you're serious?

Think l'm joking?

Does anybody know what l look like?

Only me.

Pretend l'm an informer.

Let me in at midnight.

We'd never get away with it.

Everything's possible if you wish

hard enough. Who said that?

You did.

'Twas him.

Peter Pan.

How is it?

-Grand evening.

-Yeah, not bad.

ls Broy here?

-Who?

-Detective Ned Broy.

Told me to drop by if l had information.

How are you?

lnspector Broy?

Down there.

-Who is it?

-Grace, sir, John Grace.

Come in, Mr. Grace.

l've information relating to

the guttersnipe called Collins.

-You're not nervous?

-l'm shaking.

Don't.

Use this.

Sorry.

lndex to the files.

Files on the lRB in England,

Scotland, America.

lrish Volunteers.

Sinn Fein, more Sinn Fein.

More lRB.

l have to lock you in.

lf you hear anyone, be quiet.

lf caught, you're on your own.

Don't l know it.

Jesus wept.

Christ, that's all we need.

Get up, you! Get up!

-Get up!

-He was celebrating, Tom!

The birth of his child.

Was he, now?

And what was it, boy or girl?

Girl.

Have a drink.

All work and no play.

Are you finished in here?

lt's a drink, is it? Shame to waste it.

Take it.

Let's get you cleaned up

and take you home.

-Where's me breakfast?

-Time to go, Mick.

Wait a minute.

Mick, you're pushing it.

Can you get a typist?

Why?

Copy every new file and send it to me.

l'll try. Now, you've got to leave.

You could squash us in a week, you know.

Why do you think l came to you?

lf we don't get there first...

...things might get rough.

How rough?

Very rough.

These files are no good without

the G men who compiled them.

That's rough.

Can you handle it?

After tonight, l can handle anything.

Come on.

Where the hell have you been?

Working.

Where?

l want a file made on every member

of the British administration.

Look through whatever you can find:

'Who's Who', society columns.

l want names, addresses, clubs...

...where they bank,

what they eat for breakfast.

Keep it up to date. Add to it weekly.

Tom...

...get me a list of our 12 best men.

Young, no families.

-What for?

-The 12 Apostles. Just do it!

Joe, take a letter.

Where have you been?

'To Whom lt May Concern:

'This is to inform you

that any further collaboration...

'...with the forces of occupation

will be punishable by death.

'You have been warned.

'Signed, the lrish Republican Army.'

Are you serious?

Afraid so.

Send one to every G man.

l saw their files. They know too much.

Look.

Look. That's us.

-Where'd you get these?

-Know how they thrive?

lnformers.

Without them,

the Brits would have no system.

Now, imagine the Castle...

...where anyone who collaborated

knew he'd be shot.

They wouldn't be able to move

outside those f***ing walls.

That's how serious l am.

There's only one problem.

What?

We'd have to do it.

Yes.

So...

...could you bear it?

You got one too?

lt's a joke.

No Fenian guttersnipe threatens me.

Give us a name.

What for?

Someone to hang and fry like bacon!

Here's one.

Cullen.

Don't threaten us, you Fenian swine.

We threaten you!

What's this mean?

lt means you can get out now.

What?

Give up our jobs?

And miss out on all the fun?

Or face the music, Hoey.

You're the only one

who will make music here.

God's curse on them!

Go on!

Who's John Grace?

Ned?

They dumped him.

Tommy.

Hoey.

l know. Come on.

Any of ye who read lrish history

know movements like ours...

...are always destroyed

by paid spies and informers.

l want to set up an outfit

that'll rectify that.

Your job will be to wreck the system of

information the Castle uses against us.

To make it unhealthy for them to run it.

How unhealthy?

We've sent letters of warning...

...to every G man.

lf they're stupid enough

to stay in the Castle...

...then they'll be shot.

And you will have to do the shooting.

Don't expect it to be pleasant.

Any of ye with any qualms,

there's the door.

Would we have got past the door?

You would have, Vinny.

Seriously though,

l won't force this on any man.

May the Lord have mercy on your soul.

l want to thank you.

For what, Father?

For these mornings...

...praying together.

l can't pretend to understand your politics.

But l can appreciate...

...your integrity.

And l yours, Father.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote