The Evil That Men Do

Gentlemen, torture as a political

instrument is no longer the crude...

...and brutal extraction of information

from one's enemies.

It has become a subtle

and sophisticated specialty...

...to be carried out

with medical and scientific precision.

Physical and psychological pain

is applied in unbearable...

...yet controlled doses,

to destroy the subject's will and spirit...

...as the body clings to life.

Now, the process can take weeks,

even months...

...during which the subject

is kept trapped...

...in a delicate, shall we say,

nightmare existence of terror.

Now, the hood, which serves

to separate the interrogator...

...and subject psychologically,

is not always necessary.

There are times when one does without it.

Hidalgo. George Hidalgo!

You've seen how a woman must be made

to remove her own clothing...

...depriving her of her dignity.

With a man, it is the opposite.

Strip him!

Sir.

Excuse me, gentlemen.

Doctor, there's some kind of trouble

outside of the city.

I must get you to the hotel.

This won't take long.

Mr. Hidalgo, or I should say George,

since I feel we almost know each other...

...l've had an opportunity

to read some of your articles about me.

Astute for the most part,

though you do have certain facts wrong.

You credit me with instructing the leaders

of over 35 countries.

Flattering, I must say,

but the actual number is 20.

Notice, gentlemen, how the subject

clings to compensatory morale...

...and habitual defences.

Electrodes.

He was a nuisance and I'm glad he's dead.

I only wish he'd suffered a little longer.

Good morning, Quasimodo.

- You will wait here, please.

- Thank you.

- Good day to you, man.

- Good morning, Santiago.

I brings you a visitor.

Gentleman's coming from Mexico City

on the airplane.

I bring him up here?

I'll go down there.

- Holland?

- Yes.

The name's Hector Lomelin.

George Hidalgo may have mentioned me.

Yes. How are you? How's George?

He's dead.

- How are George's daughter and widow?

- You knew them?

No, but he talked

about them a lot.

They are doing as well

as can be expected.

I just don't understand.

George was a journalist.

He had no business getting mixed up

with someone like the Doctor.

He always counted on you

on getting the job done.

He felt he had no other choice.

Now I am here for myself and for others...

...hoping to convince you to do it.

Hector, you don't seem

like the kind of man...

...that would commission

somebody's death.

I'm not...

...but the Doctor stands outside

the moral laws of civilized people.

George died trying to stop that man.

How much would it cost?

Hector, like I told George,

I'm retired. Look.

You can't withdraw

from the world, Holland.

You know, in my clinic,

I have patients from all over the world.

They have recorded their experiences

with the Doctor on tapes.

I brought some with me.

Will you look at them at least?

Sure.

I was arrested with my sister

and her husband.

They said we had been giving guns

to the rebels, but it was a lie.

We had done nothing.

My sister was pregnant.

They beat her many times on the belly.

One day, they took her away.

I never saw her again. But I was told

her body was found in the street.

When she was cut open,

her husband's head was found inside her.

My wife and children were taken from me.

The Doctor forced my wife

to eat her own excrement.

My children's bones were broken.

They said it would continue until

I confessed crimes against the government.

But I invented things to save my family,

and they said I was lying.

They made me watch

while my friend was stripped naked...

... and made to stand

against a wooden table.

Two men held him while the Doctor

drove nails through his testicles.

He fainted many times from the pain.

And each time,

they threw water on him to revive him.

My husband was made to watch

while I was raped with a bottle.

And then the Doctor killed him

in front of me...

... very slowly by cutting him open

and pulling out his intestines.

The Doctor forced me to eat ground glass.

It hurt my insides so bad

that I cannot have solid food even now.

My skin was burned with acid and needles

were pushed under my fingernails.

The Doctor forced me to drink

my own urine.

All my hair was shaved off, then the Doctor

burned my scalp with cigarettes.

At the time of the coup, I was arrested

and taken to the national stadium.

I can never forget the man in the hood.

The man they called the Doctor.

It was he who selected

those to be tortured, those to be shot.

All day and all night, you could hear

the gunfire and the screams.

They injected me with a drug every day.

It gave me headaches so bad,

I felt my skull was being split open...

... and I had terrible cramps

all over my body.

The Doctor.

The Doctor. The Doctor.

Everyone of them.

Clement Molloch, the man they call

the Doctor. Will you do it?

... until I passed out from the pain.

And then they broke...

Like I said, I'm retired.

Clement, a pleasure.

And my dear seora Molloch.

- Please, be seated.

- Why are we here, Aristos?

Relax, Clement. May I offer you a drink?

- Just mineral water.

- There is a problem, Clement.

The Council for Central American States...

...has just concluded its meetings

in Costa Rica.

Hypocrites.

Every government represented

condemns my brother publicly...

...and then welcomes him privately.

They have called for another meeting

and study of human rights violations.

Human rights violations.

There is no such thing.

There is only the security of the state

and those who'd undermine that security.

We must play the game.

What are you suggesting?

A move.

My brother had a great deal to do

with making this country secure, Victor.

If his work should have earned us

a welcome anywhere, it's here.

I only reflect my president, seora.

How long are you giving us?

As quickly as possible.

We'll see.

- Changed your mind?

- Yeah, let's do it.

We haven't discussed your fee.

Don't worry about it.

I don't want the money.

I'm grateful.

There's a complication, however.

The Doctor is leaving Guatemala

in a couple of weeks.

Nobody knows where he is going.

If we let him slip through our hands

this time...

...we may never have

another chance at him.

- Where do you get your information?

- A man named Max Ortiz.

Very well placed with the highest echelons,

and fiercely opposed to the current regime.

- Sounds like someone I could trust.

- He's a lifelong friend.

- Maybe you can put me in touch with him?

- Of course.

And one more thing, a

little more difficult.

I'd like to get down

appearing as a family man.

I want to take a woman

and a child with me.

- That could be dangerous, no?

- Yeah, but it's only for a few days.

Most of the people in this ward

have one thing in common.

- The Doctor.

- That's it.

These are only a small portion.

They managed to escape.

- Holland, this is my wife, Isabel.

- How do you do?

Seora Rhiana Hidalgo.

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