The War Is Over Page #3

they think everything's unraveling.

They're too close to things

to see the situation clearly.

And we see it better from Paris?

Yes. We have

a broader perspective.

What about Juan?

He's in no danger. We have three days

before he leaves Barcelona.

In Perpignan he would be

even safer.

I'll take responsibility

for keeping him in Perpignan.

No, I'm in charge of the trips!

He has important work

to do in Barcelona.

Every minute counts now!

Are you all crazy here in Paris? Every

minute has counted for 25 years.

Why speak to me of 25 years...

with a general strike called

for 12 days from now?

And May 1st is no joke either,

so minutes do count!

May 1st comes around every year,

but Juan won't.

If he's caught, he'll get 20 years,

and you know it as well as I.

As far as the strike goes,

we'll discuss that tomorrow.

Listen, if you need someone

to go to Barcelona, I'd be happy to go.

- It'd get me out this rut.

- This rut?

Is your wife a rut now?

Are you having second thoughts?

These Breton women are amazing.

I talk about an undercover mission

to help a comrade in danger...

and you'd think

I was off on a vacation.

If anyone goes to Barcelona,

I should go.

We'll see.

Don't stand there all night.

Come in the house and have a drink.

Good idea, but bring it out here.

I have to finish up this car.

- How did it start this time?

- Probably the same way it always does.

- Of course. It's always the same.

- No, it wasn't the same this time.

No, they struck several places

at the same moment.

The printing press and the men

working it... all taken at once.

Andres and Luis were taken

in their hideouts.

It's the first time

that's happened.

So Juan could be in danger

in Madrid?

The raid took place

in his sector.

He's been going there for years.

He may have been spotted.

What about you?

You've been going there for years too.

Yet here you are,

drinking wine with us.

Luis' wife heard the police say

during the search...

they had pictures of a Paris leader

taken with a telephoto lens...

they were sure to arrest next.

- It has to be Juan.

- Films, photos... it's all fabrication!

The police spread these rumors

to demoralize the opposition.

Thursday, the very day

the arrests were made...

didn't you have an appointment

with Andres?

Yet here you are.

Because there is no photo,

and Andres won't talk.

It's very simple.

They struck at us

because they're afraid!

They want to nip

our preparations in the bud.

They conducted a raid. So what?

They've been doing that for 25 years!

That's how war is:

They strike, and we strike back!

- Don't get excited.

- I'm not excited.

I may raise my voice, but it means

nothing. It's this crazy life we lead.

What's crazy is

that it's gone on this long.

All right.

Tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m.

at the Pierre Curie station.

Marianne must be waiting for you.

You didn't let her know

you were coming?

She's probably left Paris.

Besides, I didn't come for her.

I came for Juan.

- Yes, she must be out of town.

- Why?

- Because it's Easter.

- So it is. You see? One forgets!

If you find the house empty,

come sleep here.

Maybe. Thanks.

- Is it you?

- That depends.

Was it you on the phone

this morning?

Yes. I recognize your voice.

I waited for you until now.

Come on!

Your father isn't home?

If he were, God knows

where you would be now!

You don't know how true that is.

But I do know.

They ask to speak to my father.

I say he's on a trip,

which is the truth.

For once, the truth

served a useful purpose.

What happened at the border?

A spot check. Mere routine.

But they picked us this time.

The phone call could have ruined it.

They mentioned Spain

and I knew right away.

My father told me

about the passport.

We have a weakness for Spain

in our family.

So I pretended to be alarmed.

I asked lots of questions.

I even demanded

to talk to my father.

I was admirable,

full of daughterly anxiety.

In any case, you kept your cool.

You got me out of a fix.

It's not the first time.

So tell me, how was I in the role

of the affectionate father?

When my father feels affectionate,

he doesn't call me "darling."

He calls me "Nana."

I'm sure the border incident

was nothing at all.

But suppose they were

to make inquiries in Paris.

- When does your father return?

- Tomorrow night.

Then he must have his passport

to show just in case.

- I'll bring it by tomorrow afternoon.

- You're leaving?

If I hurry,

I can just make the 10:00 show.

What do you do?

Besides this, I mean.

- Nothing else.

- Nothing else ever?

- Not for ages.

- And before that?

Long ago, I think I wanted to write.

Same as everyone.

What you do

is far more interesting!

- So you're a professional revolutionary?

- That's it precisely.

A real professional.

What a terrific profession!

How is a passport falsified?

Can't they tell the photo was replaced?

No, they'd have to check police files

to see whether the photo is fake.

But they don't keep those files

at the border.

Show me.

So you could be my father.

That's right, Nana.

- Are you leaving?

- Yes.

Is someone expecting you?

Yes.

What's your real name?

Sometimes it startles me

to hear my real name.

What is it?

Domingo.

That means "Sunday."

Hello, Sunday.

Hello, Nana.

What time shall I bring

the passport by tomorrow?

After lunch, but no later than 3:30.

I have to meet somebody.

Nadine Sallanches.

Rue de I'Estrapade,

number 7, third floor.

Born October 26, 1944.

Completed her secondary studies

at the Lycee Fenelon.

Begins her university studies this year.

Speaks English fluently,

Spanish as well.

Lives with her father, civil service

engineer for the government...

who is often away

because of his work.

Five feet five...

brunette, brown eyes,

appendicitis three years ago.

- Is that me?

- This data came with the passport.

You don't miss a detail!

No, not a detail.

It's the big picture

we sometimes lose sight of.

See you tomorrow.

Good night, Sunday.

I'm not alone. We're working.

And to think I took my time

coming home.

I was sure

you wouldn't be in Paris.

No one told me.

No one knew. It was unexpected.

- Diego.

- Yes?

Nothing. Just saying your name.

You're here. I am happy.

I'm leaving again.

- You are?

- Tomorrow.

You know Agnes?

I thought you had already met.

- I don't think so.

- I'm sure we haven't.

You never saw Agnes

at the office?

No, never. Impossible!

Diego is always traveling.

Always?

Every time I asked Marianne to

introduce us, you were away on a trip.

I even began to wonder

whether you really existed!

Now you see I really do exist.

Stay with us for a while.

We've finished.

Jeanine and Bill will be so glad

to see you again.

We're doing a book

on all the cities of the world.

That is, on the way a city speaks

to its inhabitants...

and how people answer back,

and how this becomes a language.

It's complicated to explain,

but in pictures it's simple.

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