The Secret Invasion Page #3

---

Oh, lad, you don't say much,

but when you say something,

the things you say aren't very funny.

Be quiet.

Quiet.

- Mila...

- Don't speak.

Get going! Go on!

Come on!

- The entire garrison is after us.

- I can hear them!

What happened?

It's a bad thing that's happened, Rocca.

Durrell

killed the baby.

Why?

Oh, I'll tell you why.

Because he likes it.

I think we can do without him!

- Wait a minute.

- Hold it!

It was an accident.

Do you understand that?

She told me all about it.

The baby started to cry.

He couldn't help it. It was an accident.

Do you understand?

Mila.

Mila.

You must leave now.

Take your child to the caretaker.

See to its body.

We...

We will pray for its gentle soul, and you.

Scanlon.

Can you blast through to the prison?

I can, but there's always

a possibility of it collapsing.

What are the chances?

Fifty-fifty.

- All right, let's do it.

- Right.

I speak to you in

your common language, I believe.

There is a battery of mortars

trained on your hiding place.

You may surrender

and be regarded as prisoners of war

under the Geneva Convention,

or I shall simply reduce you to dust.

Thirty seconds for your decision.

Are you crazy?

Let's blast our way out of here.

Wait!

Not one of us would get through that door.

Now, please,

if you are prepared to surrender;

step into the doorwvay,

one by one, without weapons.

Our purpose was to get inside the prison.

It seems we'll accomplish

at least that much.

If we step out into that light,

they're gonna pick us off.

What about that, Rocca?

Come on.

I think two intelligent men,

fighting on opposite sides,

can trust each other for a moment.

I don't think so.

This is one of the consequences of war.

We become enemies by general decree

from one day to another.

Can't we forget the general decree?

No.

These uniforms make our decisions.

We are both prisoners.

All right, then.

We'll take it slowly.

Name, rank and serial number.

My name is of no importance.

I have no rank.

The last number identified with me

was 61235.

- Why are you here?

- For two reasons.

But I can't tell you either of them.

Your wine is excellent.

If you persist in this stubborn attitude,

I must resort to stronger measures.

I believe you. I believe you.

I do not make myself clear.

There are men in my command adept

at keeping a man in hell for an eternity.

They seem to have misjudged

Petar Marasovic.

What do you mean?

He must've kicked off before you got

all the information you wanted.

Petar Marasovic.

See? His death certificate.

They will be in shortly.

Now, what have we?

If I had the right ingredients,

I could blow this hellhole sky-high.

I can forge his signature,

and with a little equipment, his seal.

- Good.

- He's a couple of inches too short,

but the glasses help. I can play the part.

You fellows should feel at home here.

I'm a little out of my depth.

Perhaps you'll enjoy sleeping in that.

Tomorrow, we will begin

a new kind of questioning.

In a little while, some or all of you

will be tempted to take your lives.

I expect the Kommandant has talent

in the art of breaking men.

We can't talk too soon,

but there is no reason

to take all that he has to offer.

We need a cover story.

We'll tell him

we are an intelligence group

preparing the way

for the invasion of the Balkans.

Tomorrow, the pressure will begin.

Now, which one shall we entertain first?

The little fellow?

The vain one?

This quiet man?

We mustn't forget the thinker.

Never mind.

Everyone will get his chance.

It's a promise.

Through the ages,

man has shown his greatest genius

in the art of inflicting pain

upon his fellows.

I have nothing to say.

Let us talk as reasonable men.

I recognize in you the bearing

and the discipline of a British officer.

Very well.

My name is Major Richard Mace

of His Majesty's Services, number 343602.

A start.

A start, Major.

Please sit down, Major.

Cigarette?

Please.

How's the caviar situation?

It's improving.

It's raw puke.

- Beautiful.

- Beautiful?

This little baby's gonna be

our rubber stamp.

So you have come

to the grave of your brother.

Yes.

I'll show you his grave.

The sea surrounds it.

I recall your brother to be

an extremely stubborn Englishman.

He never spoke one word

from the moment he entered this place

till the moment he left it.

I think I can do better with you.

Well, what do you know?

Trickiest thing I ever saw.

The fellow that built this place

really used his head.

He figured one day he might

get himself caught in here,

because you can get out from the inside.

All I need is a simple little tool,

which I haven't got.

A start, gentlemen.

I'll let Captain Mace persuade you

to be more cooperative.

Good day.

- Easy with him, lads.

- Here we go. Come on.

Here you are.

Thank you.

My God.

Why didn't you use the cover story?

Why?

I didn't tell him anything.

I just told him who I was.

I wanted the Kommandant to know

why he was going to die.

I've found him.

Quadri.

I was coming out of the Kommandant's

office, and there he was.

Where?

The corridor leading past

the infirmary to the seawall.

And that's where they bury the dead.

They would take a dead man

from the infirmary

to the wall by the sea?

Probably.

We'll create a special body.

Yeah, if we don't end up

corpses ourselves.

It's clear that Captain Mace

is not a persuasive man.

An informer hasn't come forward.

I think it is time

for further experimentation.

Now, who shall it be?

No. No. Not today.

You may prove useful after you have

an opportunity to see how others fare.

I think...

Yes.

Becker!

How much can he take?

Seaman's such a little fellow.

I was getting to like him.

Don't like anything so much

you can't see it die.

Don't advise me, killer.

You destroy anything.

You can't feel a human pain.

Don't feel.

It's you making that sound!

Stop it.

Stop it!

Rocca, what the hell's with the...

We have to have precise timing,

or we fail.

I'm snapping my fingers once a second.

It's becoming automatic.

You begin by saying, "101, 102, 103."

You must make it automatic, too.

It'll be your watch.

And we must all be synchronized

to move on the exact second.

Create a one-second tick

in your whole body.

Because remember, a snap of the fingers

may save your life.

I like to explain my techniques.

Major Mace revealed little,

but then he had practically no persuasion.

The Irisher told me a believable story

after he had his knuckles rapped.

The next man will have more

to look forward to,

until I am sure I have the truth.

So, you.

I'm sorry.

That's all right.

They didn't mess with my writing hand.

Where's that seal?

You didn't have to take so much.

You did all right up there.

Besides, we feed it to those guys on a silver

platter and they're gonna smell a rat.

They dressed Scanlon's injuries.

Why not yours?

They've learned that men can sometimes

stand up to great physical pain,

then crack under a subtle doubt

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes