Or freedom versus responsibility.

So you tell him. Because you know. Because you're from the West.

And before you've finished shaking your dick, you think "What a great country."

That's why I love them.

And they're very fond of me.

Anyway... later we talked about jazz, and I played some.

What, somebody had a saxophone?

What else? Drum kit? Rhythm section?

(# saxophone effect through a comb and paper)

(# improvised jazz continues)

How many women were there?

Three or four. But no Katya.

But there was "someone," wasn't there?

Yes. There was someone.

Someone who is the reason why we're all here. Yes?

- A man or a woman? - Name?

Christ. The way you people come alive when you smell blood.

(amplified swish)

(amplified crashing)

(amplified)

They called him... Dante.

As in "Inferno".

The others said he was on holiday. A drinking holiday.

He worked some place where drinking wasn't on.

Everyone deferred to him.

He never spoke. He just got drunk and stared.

- Stared? - Mm. At me.

Did Dante arrive on his own or with others?

I don't know.

Keep going.

Then I decided to give them all a rest from wonderful me,

let them talk Russian for a while.

There's a graveyard a couple of hundred yards up the hill.

It's a place of pilgrimage.

(speaks Russian)

"If there is to be hope, we must all betray our countries."

Ah, Dante, old chum.

Come to pay your respects to old Boris, have you?

Boris Pasternak.

Do you think he knows people are allowed to read him again?

"All victims are equal. None is more equal than others."

Yes, well... some "write" better than others.

"How sweet it is to hate one's native land, to desire its ruin,

and in its ruin to discern the dawn of universal rebirth."

- Pasternak? - No. Pecherin. An earlier poet.

Pecherin understood that it's possible to love your country while hating its system.

If you say so.

I love my country.

I love it too - "your" country.

And I'm reasonably fond of my own.

To save it, perhaps it's necessary to betray it. Yes?

Because you and I, we love truth.

Who are you, Dante?

What do you do for a living?

I am a moral outcast.

Oh, it's always nice to meet a writer.

And what sort of rubbish are you turning out now?

Lies.

I am the lie.

Really?

You spoke the truth.

Promise me that you are not a spy, and then I will make you a promise in return.

I'm not a spy, actually. Not my line.

You are nobody's spy? Not even ours?

Dante, I'm getting a bit jumpy, to be honest.

I'm nobody's spy.

Let's talk about something else. How about chess?

Oh, chess. In chess there are no lies. But in my game lies are everything.

What game is that?

The Soviet knight is dying inside his armour.

You are in danger only from our lies.

I commit the lie every day. I lie even to my masters.

So, promise me that if I ever find the courage to think like a hero,

then you will act like a merely decent human being. Right?

- Dante, leave me out, will you? - Hey, you cannot reject me.

Because I am strengthened by your rejection.

So, promise me.

What the hell am I promising, for God's sake?

Promise.

All right.

If you ever manage to be a hero,

I'll be a... decent human being.

OK?

Promise?

I promise.

Why didn't you come to us? : I know why. You put your head in the sand.

Don't know because don't "want" to know.

I'm sorry, but we're going to need your rather serious help.

Then I asked him "What am I supposed to be promising, for God's sake?"

Why didn't you come to us? : I know why. You put your head in the sand.

Don't know because don't want to know.

- Who the hell is that? - Walter? He's a character.

I'm sorry, but we're going to need your rather serious help.

- That's it. - And the notebooks?

The notebooks don't mesh with any disinformation artist,

con man or intelligence peddler we know.

Our psychology and handwriting gurus tried to fault them.

- And? - They failed.

Try harder, Russell.

No.

No.

No.

Not even a perhaps or a maybe?

No. Not even a tickle, old boy. They're not in Dante's class.

All right.

Is that Katya?

- That's her. - You remember her now?

No such luck.

Choose someone else.

We didn't choose you. Dante did.

Because I wasn't a spy.

We're not asking you to build the beastly rockets or push the button.

Only to help improve our knowledge of the enemy.

And if the enemy turns out to be a friend, where's the harm?

I thought we were all supposed to be chums together now.

Oh, my dear Lord:

Because this year it suits them to roll over and play nice doggie?

Because this year they're on the floor anyway? You ninny.

All the more reason to spy the daylights out of 'em.

Kick 'em in the balls every time they get to their knees.

Well, that's where I disagree.

I'll back my Russia against yours any time.

Nah.

I'm sorry, Ned. No go.

Bloody woman. I must've given offence.

She has a point.

Worry about Dante.

He reached out for you.

Would you rather throw him to the Americans?

Don't be fooled by Bob's Yaley manner.

The Yanks will take Dante, put him on a spit and have a barbecue.

How will you live with yourself?

I "don't" live with myself.

In fact, I try to give myself a wide berth.

I'm offering you a fresh start. And a fat cheque.

Never mind the money. Barley's far too grand.

This is something people write in for.

The chance to be an active player in the defence of their country.

You live in a free society. You've no choice.

Any decent church would've burnt you bastards years ago.

You're a fool to use me.

I let people down.

(phone rings)

Abercrombie and Blair.

Is it the office of... Mr Bartholomew Scott Blair?

Yes. But he isn't in at the moment.

Can I help, or would you like to leave a message?

No, thank you. It is a publishing matter.

I will telephone again. Thank you.

(Ned) Crowds are good, if you keep moving.

Open spaces are good.

Talking in the street is OK, if you have to.

Never, never talk in a car or in your hotel room,

except for the benefit of their microphones.

If you've read anything about playing the radio or running the taps, forget it.

That's right. The source is the star of the show.

And the star decides whether to make the meeting or abort.

This is fun. Is that why you keep it secret?

Did you spot our watchers?

The tramp raiding the dustbin, the woman with the white shoes,

and, of course, the man with the tracksuit.

You scored nil. Out of a possible .

The lesson is you'll never know who they are.

If you need to write something down, use a single sheet of paper on a hard surface.

That leaves no impression.

How many such surfaces can you see in this room?

Well, including the windowsill... four.

Seven.

This is often easiest.

Then wipe it clean - rubbing hard.

The issue is "why."

That's what you're looking for all the time.

If we trust the motive, we trust the man.

Then we can trust the material.

Why did Dante pick on Katya?

Why does he put her life at risk?

Why does she let him?

Is "she" a spy?

- It's voice-activated, sir. You switch... - I know all this. I've had it up to here.

I just want to get it done. What's the hold-up?

It's everything we ever wanted to know about Russia and were afraid to ask.

- Sounds like the pot of gold. - Sounds like a crock of shit.

Some unidentified walk-in is telling us the Russians are way behind,

they can't hurt us, we can pull in our horns.

Who the hell is gonna sell that story on the Hill?

Russell?

It could turn around and bite us right in the ass.

Let the Brits run with it for a while.

Dante is their source, and, uh... Scott Blair is their problem.

I'll go with that, Russell. But I want Joe and Larry with him in London.

Friendly observers, OK?

You'll do us proud, Barley.

I've brought you a present.

It's not to keep. It's just to sniff.

- Am I supposed to offer to publish it? - Offer him anything he wants.

Say anything you need to say to keep him with us.

Except the truth?

Bon voyage, Barley.

Come back with the goods on Dante, starting with his real name,

Date: 2015-12-17; view: 852