Tailor Of Panama Script - Dialogue Transcript

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Tailor Of Panama Script


            - Panama? - Best I could do, Andrew.

            In the circumstances, given your sins.

            They were baying for blood.

            I argued your case.

            "For his long service...

            ...his fine brain, in the balance against the gambling debts...

            ...the blown cover and the wives."

            The wives.

            So, a last chance. Panama.

            Keep the head down?

            - Serve out my time? - Not quite, Andrew.

            We do have interests: The canal, vital artery.

            There is work to be done.

            But for God's sake be careful out there, man.

            There's a nasty web of money laundering...

            ...drug trafficking and corruption.


              There are only     resident Brits   in Panama...

              ... but you can surely ferret out   one or two...

              ... who can gain you access   to the corridors of power.

            Look! The Bridge of the Americas.

            Do you know, ever since the canal cut them in half...

            ...this bridge is now the only link between North and South America.

            Think of it.

              The way I see it,   we all have a dream of ourselves...

              ... that we could be more than we are.

              Well, Pendel and Braithwaite   are here to help you realise that dream...

              ... in the Savile Row tradition.

            Let's try this one, now.

            Yeah. I guess this is kind of...

            I thought you'd like that one, sir. Mr. Connery's choice.

            Matter of fact, when you came in I thought, "Who does he remind me of?"

            And that's it. In the build, too. Golfer's shoulders.

            How about that, Uncle Benny?

              You've got the fluence, Harry boy.   I've always said it and you have.

              You're the outright best tailor in the world.   Bar none.

              Steady on, Uncle Benny. Steady on.


            - Harry, come on. - I'm coming.

            All right, you get in first. Sarah.

            Now, don't forget your belt.

            - Sarah, come on. - I'm trying.

            Okay. Bye-bye.

            George. I saw you yesterday.

            All right, here you go then. How's your old lady?

            - Sarah. - Hi, Bella.

            Dad, give me a quarter.

            Have you learnt your poem, Sarah?

            "Tiger, tiger, burning bright In the forest of the night"

            See you, Dad.

              - Shalom.   - Shalom.

              Sarah, look at your hair.

              "Oh, what immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful cemetery"

              No, symmetry. Symmetry.

              I still don't know what it means.

              - Did you see the news last night? - Yes, I did.

              Your people want their canal back.

              They're not my people. They're rabid, right-wing senators.

              - Do you know what they are? - Say it.


              You see?

              Turn around.

              It's only a tad, Ramon.

              If you want to look good in my suit, lose some fucking weight and grow a foot.

              Drop round to the shop any time, we can ease it a little.


              So, what are we going to do about the overdraft, Harry?

              You tell me, Ramon.

              You have to think about selling the farm, Harry.

              Sell it?

              It's a gold mine, Ramon.

                Angelo's turning it around.   He's a very good man, Ramon. Dedicated.

              I hear you got a water problem.

                Did have, Ramon. Did have.   I put that right.

                Now, it flows like...


              Exactly, Ramon.

              Maybe you shouldn't have bought it, eh?

              On your advice, Ramon. Fair's fair.

              The bank will wish to see a substantial reduction on the outstanding sum...

              ...by the end of next month. Otherwise...

              ...we have to call it in.

              What? The whole lot?

              Of course, the whole lot.

              You are my friend. I hate to do this...

              ...but my hands are tied. What can I say?

              What am I going to tell Louisa?

              I bought it with her inheritance.

              Well, you're the storyteller, Harry.

              You're an angel.

              - Someone to see you. - Oh, yes? Who?

              New customer, he say.

              Hi. Name's Osnard.

              I phoned.

              Mr. Osnard. Harry Pendel.

              Very happy to meet you, sir.

              No offence, but I was hoping to see Mr. Braithwaite.

              No chance of that, I'm sorry to say, sir.

              My late partner has been dead and gone these many years...

              ...though his exacting standards are alive and well, I'm pleased to say.

              Glad to hear that.

              He dressed my father, you know. Back in his Savile Row days.

              Well, I never! Now, that's a first, I don't mind admitting.

              Father to son, Savile Row to Panama City. Did you hear that, Marta?

              I thought you'd be surprised.

              Surprised, sir, and delighted.

              Marta, put Mr. Osnard down as an old customer.

              Arthur Braithwaite made for his father.

              Now, if you'd care to come this way, Mr. Osnard.

              What the hell happened to her?

              In the bad old days, would that be? Noriega's time?

              Rough justice meted out?

              - If you'd care to take a seat, sir. - Thank you.

              We like to call this "The Club Room".

              A few of our gentlemen spend time here in the lunch hour and at the end of the day.

              And why not?

              What did you have in mind, sir, exactly?

              I thought I'd start with a few lounge suits, see how they go.

              After that, well...

              ...the "full monty" as old Braithwaite used to say.

              - I see. Very good, sir. - Pity the expression's been hijacked.

              - Means quite the other thing these days. - So they tell me, sir.

              Bollock naked, in fact.

              - Quite so, sir. - Money's no problem.

              Well, take a look at these, sir and see what takes your fancy.

              They're all the right weight for this diabolical climate.

              Seven or eight ounces of nicely breathing, finest worsted.

              About all a man could or should put up with.

              How about this one? Alpaca, am I right?

              - Very good, sir. - Perfect.

              Exactly what I should've picked for you myself.

              Given that money's no object, yeah?

              - So, what's next? - The sun.

              - Vital statistics, if you'd step this way. - Certainly.

              If I could just ask you to slip off your jacket. Thank you, sir.

              You were Noriega's tailor, weren't you, in his time?

              I'm sorry, sir, is that a problem?

              Not necessarily. Smelly little bugger, was he?

              If I may, sir.

              Forty. And the waist.

              What's the damage?

              A very creditable thirty-four plus.

              - Plus what? - Plus lunch, put it that way, sir.

              Very good.

              You ever miss it, the old country?

              Savile Row?

              The Row. Well, now, I do and I don't.

              There's nothing to beat it, but when I was there...

              ...I always felt very much in old Arthur Braithwaite's shadow.

              Though it was Arthur Braithwaite, who encouraged me to spread my wings.

              Good old boy, was he?

              One of the old school, sir.

              Now, if I might.

              Very good, sir.

              And do we dress right or left, sir?

              Most of my gentlemen favour left these days, don't think it's political.

              Never know where the bloody thing is. Bobs about like a wind-sock.

              - You were saying. - Saying, sir?

              Braithwaite. Telling you to spread your wings.

              Yes, of course. I remember it like yesterday.

              I was cutting a nice, muted check hacking jacket for Lord Brabourne.

              Finest mohair, dash of cashmere.

              And I looked up and there he was looking at me from the doorway.

              Braithwaite, that is, not his Lordship. He was a big man, imposing.

              He had a presence. It's hard to put it into words.

              - His moustache. - Moustache?

              Bloody great bushy job, soup all over it.

              - Well, there was no moustache in my day. - I can see it now. Bright brown.

              I think we're being rumbled, Harry boy. Admit nothing. Deny all.

              I think your memories playing tricks on you.

              You're thinking of a different man and giving his moustache to Mr. Braithwaite.

              Go on.

              "Harry", he says to me, "I think you've earned your spurs."

              "How do you feel about taking the Braithwaite name...

              ...and tradition to the New World?"

              "I'm talking about a full partnership, Harry."

              I don't mind telling you, there were tears in my eyes.

              You've practically got tears in mine.

              Thank you, sir.

              I've never heard such a load of bullshit in my life.

              Come and sit down, Harry.

              It's all right. I'm your fairy godmother.

              The thing is, Harry, I know who you are.

              More accurately, I know who you aren't.

              - I don't know what you're talking about. - It's all right. Relax.

              Because I know. You're        Pendel.

              Six years for arson, served two and a half. Learnt your tailoring in the slammer.

              Insurance scam, wasn't it?

              Set fire to a warehouse as a favour to your Uncle Benny...

              ...and got caught with the matches in your hand.

              You've never been within miles of Savile Row...

              ...and Braithwaite is your late Uncle Benny born again and given a size nine halo.

              After serving time, you did a runner to Panama...

              ...with your Uncle Benny's help.

              Built up a fine business.

              Married the daughter of an American canal engineer, well-respected man.

              But you owe the bank $      thanks to that farm.

              You've put in the shop and the house as collateral. Not wise at all.

              I can practically hear the creditors banging on the door.

              Who are you?

              I'm Andy Osnard.

              New boy at the British Embassy, finding my way around town.

              Strictly between us, I'm MI. 's man in Panama.

              It's dark and lonely work...

              ...like oral sex, but someone has to do it, Harry.

              I'm opening up a little network here. Keeping an eye on the canal.

              So what's that got to do with me, Mr. Osnard?

              What gives you the right to come into my shop, sandbag me with my past...

              ...after I've paid my debt to society?

              Cool down. I'm bonus.

              Okay. What do you want?

              Your memory. Your rock of eye.

              Isn't that the tailoring expression? Things you know and don't even know you know.

              Highest prices paid?

              Get out. Now.


              Don't be a cunt, Harry. We're made for each other.

              You've got the debts, I've got the money. Where's your patriotism?

              I had it out in prison, without an anaesthetic.

              There's $     there. Say it's on account of the suits.

              Call it "entertainment expenses", anything you like really.

              I want us to get on, Harry. Go on.

              Show me around is all.

              - Do I have a choice? - Don't put it like that.

              It's a game. Let's have some fun.


              No, nothing much.

              Well, sure, if you feel you have to.

              Why not just bring him home?

              No. I think I'll take him to the club.

              Not sure. He's an odd chap.

              No. Nothing's wrong.

              Your voice sounds funny.

              He called it a wind-sock?

              "Seňor." Good evening, Mr. Pendel.

              - Must have cost you a fortune to get in. - Had to be done.

              Hey, Harry. What about my blazer?

              Drop by on Tuesday, Luis. It'll be ready to try on.

              Blazers, they all want blazers.

              You dress everyone here, Harry?

              - Just about, Andy. - So, who are they? Who gets to join?

              Basically it's your    ruling families, their lawyers and their bankers.

              And their tailors, I take it.

              When the Americans took out Noriega, I said to myself...

              ..."Harry", I said, "they got Ali Baba but they missed the    thieves."

              - Well, here they are. - So, fill me in.

              Nobody ever loses their reputation in Panama.

              They hang it in the wardrobe for a few months to get its shape back.

              When they put it on again, it's as good as new.

              On the dance floor, Rafi Domingo.

              Shipping and drugs.

              I could fuck that very easily.

              Wouldn't be any pain at all.

              A lot have, Andy. A lot wish they had who haven't...

              ...and one or two have who wish they hadn't.

              Who are those charmers just come in?

              Government ministers and the money boys who own them.

              At the table...

              ...bunch of gentlemen from the loyal opposition.

              They come much cheaper, naturally.

              Welcome to Panama.

              A "Casablanca" without heroes.

              You are pure gold, Harry.



              Mickie, I think you're a touch refreshed.

              Please, come and sit down.

              "A man should stand on his feet", you know?

                "De pie o muerto." Anyone remember that?

                "Nunca de rodillas." Isn't that the next bit?

              "Never on our knees", right! Or on our asses.

              So who are you, my friend?

              - Mickie, I'd like you to meet Andy Osnard. - British Embassy.

              Mickie really is a genuine hero, Andy.

              He's one of the few who had the guts to stand up against you-know-who.

              Mickie, please sit down. People are staring.

              I don't give a fuck about these fucks.

              These are the fucks who kept that fuck Noriega in power.

              You know what I would do, Mr. Andy, right?

              You know what I would do if I was President of Panama?

              I'd kill every fuck in this room. All of us.

              Look at us!

              We got everything God needed to make paradise. And what do we do?

              We sell each other. We sell our country. We sell it all away.

              Harry, you take him for a walk.

              Look at these people!

              You sold your souls, you don't even know it. Stupid!

              If you make any more trouble, I will never cut you another suit.

              Come on. I'll take you home.

              Sorry, he's an old friend, you know.

                Seňor Delgado, buenas noches.

              The canal commissioner? Is he as squeaky clean as they say?

              Well, my wife thinks so.

              Come on. Mickie, what is this?

              Come on, Mickie.

              You're a good man, Harry.

              The only good men left in Panama City are you and me.

              - That's all. You and me. - Okay, in you go. Come on.

              He has heart, Mr. Cool. Heart.

              Come on now. Call it a night.

              So what's the story with him?


              He was my first customer. Best looking man in Panama.

              A god.

              Till Noriega had him thrown into prison to shut him up.

              Didn't bloody well work, did it?

              There's more to Mickie Abraxas than meets the eye, Andy.

              I'm sure there is.

              My people don't want to know about the past exploits...

              ...of some shagged-out old wino.

              They want the real stuff. Today's men.

              Tomorrow's, not yesterday's.

              We're not a fucking charity for losers.

              I hope I haven't made a mistake with you.

              Don't underestimate Mickie Abraxas.


              What if I was to tell you he's still at it?

              At what, exactly?

              He's still in there. The Silent Opposition.

              The Silent Opposition?

              He's never lost touch with ordinary, decent people.

              Deprived people.

              People who are tired of the corruption, the greed.

              Do you know what the poor call those?

              The Cocaine Towers.

              And our    banks? The launderettes.

              - Can we buy him? - Mickie? Never.

              But he might allow you to contribute to the cause.

              Uncle Benny. I fill up. I can't stop. I get the wind in my ears.

              You've got the fluence, in full flow, and the rock of eye.

              But it's a curse, as well as a blessing.

              How did it go?

              Fine, I think.

              Get in here.


              I missed you.

              Wait, I'll take my socks off.

              I may be some time.

              Mr. Osnard.

              Andrew Osnard.

              - Nigel Stormont. - 'Morning.

              - Francesca Deane. - Hello.

              - Welcome to Panama. - Thank you, Ambassador.


              I gather you've been having a look round already...

              ...quite extensively. - Yes. Indeed. Great spot.

              Right up my street.

              And how should we describe your street, Andrew...

              ...to the curious?

              I usually say I'm in information technology.

              You're one of them. "A friend."

              That's right. I'm a friend.

              Oh, my dear, but it's a huge secret.

              Or it was until Osnard blubbed it.

              I mean, I'm barely allowed to know it.

              Not the Osnard who got drummed out of Madrid?

              Foreign Minister's wife, wasn't it?

              Not his wife. Mistress.

              There are some things I won't do for England.

              Got your picture in the paper, didn't it?

              Hence my posting to Panama. What was your crime?

              - Coffee? - Thank you.

              Help yourself.

              Is it just exile, or do you have a purpose here?


              The boys back home want to know that the world's biggest trade gateway...

              ...isn't going to fall into the wrong hands.

              Now that it's in the wrong hands.

              Forgive me. Don't want to seem presumptuous...

              ...but I doubt you'll come up with anything they don't know...

              ...from our regular Embassy briefings.

              You know about the Silent Opposition?

              There you go.

              You're a fast worker.

              See something worth having, go after it.

              May I ask at what point we here at the Embassy will get sight of your "product"?

              My boss says no local sharing unless he gives the nod...

              ...but I'm not really bothered about that.

              Say the four of us in this room?

              I'd have no problem with that.

              Well, all that seems very satisfactory.

              Nigel? Francesca?

              - Good to have you with us, Andrew. - Good to be here.

              Francesca will show you to your office.


              - It's a bit on the poky side, I'm afraid. - A bit on the poky side's fine with me.

              We thought you'd be out and about rather a lot. Here we are.

              What are you listening to?

              The sea.

              Bloody thing's been sitting in the warehouse all its life.

              Stuck on one combo.

              Tumblers all shot.


              Are you quite sure that it was locked in the first place?

              I'm staying out at the Gamboa Rain Forest Resort until the apartment's ready.

              Come out on Sunday.

              Spot of lunch, swim in the lake.

              Let's see how it goes.

              - I think I'm busy on Sunday. - You're right.

              It was open.

              Just tight from lack of use.

              The Ambassador's asked me to brief you...

              ...in case there's anything you don't already know.

              Noriega formed the so-called Dignity Battalions.


              Their task was to beat the dignity out of anyone remotely critical of Noriega.

              It was Dr. Frankenstein, George Bush, who created this monster...

              ...when he was head of the CIA.

              And when Noriega's...

              ...drug running and brutality got too much even for the CIA...

              ...it was George, now President Bush, who decided to take him out.

              And just to make sure...

              ...they firebombed a big chunk of the old city.

              Sadly, that's where the anti-Noriega rebels were.

              The handful that Noriega hadn't banged up already.

              So, no more opposition, silent or otherwise.




              Or risen again from the ashes.

              Okay. Everybody, here we go.

              Sorry, "no tengo más".

                Gracias, Seňora.


              Come in.

              Sorry about the other night. I'm going through a bad patch.

              Is it money, Mickie, is it? Maybe I can help.


              You got worse debts than me.

              Mr. Farmer?

              Do you still keep in touch, you know...

              ...with any of the students, the fighters, from the old days?

              No, they're all lawyers now. Bankers.

              Haven't you heard? We got a democracy.

              There's still a lot to fight for, Mickie.

              I haven't got the stomach for it.

              I get the shakes when I see a cop.

              Unless I'm drunk, and then I want to hit him.

              Either way...

              What about Marta's people?

              They loved you. They looked up to you.

              You should give up on me, Harry.

              I'm a lost cause.

              How much do you owe, Mickie?

              To the casino? To you?

              All of it. All in. Come on.

              Not much change out of $     .

              I'll get it for you, Mickie.

              And I'm going to make you a new suit.

              A lovely silk and mohair herringbone.



                Buenos días, Seňor Pendel.

                Seňor Pendel? What have I done wrong, Marta?

              Nothing. That's the problem. Look at these accounts.

              Your friend Rafi Domingo. Two months overdue.

              Carry it over till next month. He's a good customer.

              He's a shit. He made all his money under Noriega.

              I'm going to charge him interest.

              - You can't do that. - Yes, I can.

              You're too soft, afraid they'll dislike you if you make them pay.

              It's tradition. Gentlemen like to keep their tailors waiting for the money.

              Gentlemen? Find me one.

              Your Mr. Osnard isn't one, that's for sure.

              - What does he want? - A suit.

              This is me, Harry.

              He's looking for information. Be nice to him. No sulks.


              - He's a devil. - Who says?

              His eyes say.

              I'm just having a natter with him, like I do.

              Don't look at me like that, Marta. I'm just a tailor.

              No, Harry, not just a tailor. You are a dreamer.

              Which is why I have to watch over you.

              Speak of the devil. Mr. Osnard.

              How's my suit coming along then?

              When I put the shears into that alpaca, I said...

              ..."Harry, this is going to be something special."

              A poem, is it?

              Great body.

              As long as she keeps her face turned away when you're fucking her.

              Marta's decent. She's been in some very bad places.

              Oh, yeah? Such as?

              Here. Under Noriega.

              She stood up when the rest of us were lying down.

              That's why they did her face for her.

              Are her sacred causes still intact?

              She'd never budge. Not Marta.

              - So she's one of them. - One of who?

              The Silent Opposition.


              - Harry, stop. - I can't.

              What is she?

              Their chief of ops?

              - Head spook? - She's more.

              - Much more. - How much?

              You press me too hard, Andy.


              ...you haven't even felt me yet.

              Think farm.

              She's their Joan of Arc. Their spiritual leader, bar none.

              You're too much, Harry.

              Can I have her?

              Every penny you give her will go to the cause...

              ...without commission or deduction of any sort or kind.

              How much?

              For the pulse and soul of the Silent Opposition?

              For Marta?

              Mickie needs $      to activate his units.

              Marta should get the same.

              - I think we can swing that. - Thank you, Mr. Osnard.

              London's tickled pink with this Silent Opposition of yours.

              - How is the farm, by the way? - Don't ask.

              Know who your neighbour is?

              The guy who's cutting off access to your water?

              He's not a person. He's an absentee landlord...

              ...and a corporation in Miami. And a prick.

              You know where he banks?

              With your chum Ramon.

              Not to put too fine a point on it, he is your chum Ramon.

              Well, Ramon owns two-thirds.

              Mr. X owns the other third.

              You know who Mr. X is?

              No, I don't know who Mr. X is.

              How about your farm manager chap? Angelo, isn't it?


              Oh, for the love of God!

              Oh, God!

              What time is it?

              Seven o'clock.

              I'll make breakfast.

              What happened to your diet, Mum?

              I'm in denial.

              - What's denial? - A very big river in Africa.

              - Boom-boom. - Thank you.

              - School. - Mum?

              This girl in school told me mothers who work...

              ...feel guilty about their children. Why don't you?

              Maybe because your father is such a good mother.

              Listen, it's ballet today. Do not forget your bag.


              - Let's go. - Okay, come on.

              Are you seeing the President today, Dad?

              I am indeed, my son.

              - So we'd better get our skates on. - Cool.

              Harold Pendel.

                Vengo a ver el Presidente.

                Está bien, pase.

              This way, Mr. Pendel.

                Cómo está el Presidente?

              Working. Always working. He thinks only of Panama.

                Seňor Pendel?

              - Show me your pass, please. - Marco, you know me.

              I made you that double-breasted mohair.

              I believe I'm still waiting for you to pay me for it.

              Through here.

              He's going to give you only five minutes, okay?

              Your Excellency. Welcome back indeed.

              Five capitals in one week, I think I read.

              Paris to Tokyo in seven days.

              That must be a record, even for your world-class statesman.


              They'll know where Panama is then, won't they?

              We won't be just a wriggly little worm on the map...

              ...with a canal across it any more, will we?


              I try to dispense with the rear buckle as a rule...

              ...with your handmade waistcoat, Excellency.

              Too many of my gentlemen report serious discomfort to the lower vertebrae...

              ...when leaning backward relishing a postprandial cigar.


              Did we discuss the future of the canal at all on our travels, if I may be so bold?

              So, you want to know something about the canal?

              - If it pleases Your Excellency. - You're halfway up it.

              I stand upright.

              Okay, just...

              I bend down...

              ...my balls are in my ears. - Very good, sir.

              You make your pants too tight, Mr. Braithwaite.

                Marco, dile a la secretaria   que ya atenderé a los diplomáticos.

              I've got a job.

                Busco el    .


              No. Thank you.

              "Harry", he says to me, "you make beautiful pants."

              "When I was a boy, I dreamed one day...

              ...of wearing pants like these." His very words, Andy.

              To be quite frank, do we have to meet here?

              - It's not very salubrious. - Good cover, Harry.

              They rent the rooms by the hour. Cash. No questions asked.

              No paper trail.

              Anyone sees you going in, you're here to get your end away. Same as me.

              So that's it, is it?

              Half hour's "těte-á-těte" about knickers.

              What about the canal?

              Did he say anything about his trip?

              He had talks, yes.

              "Constructive discussions" was his phrase, I believe.

              You're not gonna pay off the farm at this rate.

              Andy, this is hard for me.

              He confides. A tailor's like a priest in these situations.

              For me, the changing room is as sacred as the confessional.

              Lips are sealed?

              Have you had a chance to make arrangements about the farm, Andy?

              Well, the money's there, as long as you deliver.

              - He's selling it, Andy. - What?

              The canal.

              He's selling it?

              Has to. Needs the money. Relieve the poverty. Infrastructure.

              Who's buying?

              Who's buying?

              Various interested parties, I believe.

              Come on.

              - He mentioned the French, the Japanese... - And?

              - Oh yeah, and the Chinese. - Harry?


              Are you pulling my pisser?

              Not unless the President's pulling mine, Andy.

              This is fucking dynamite. Does he always talk to you like this?

              - Not always. But mostly. - This is for the record.

              Times, names, places. His actual words, if you can remember them.

              And goose it up a bit. This one's going straight to the top.

              Here we go. What kind of Chinese, by the way?

              You know, Chinese, like Chinese.

              Fuck's sake! I mean Mainland? Taiwan?

              The both, Andy. The two together. Hand in hand.

              It's something the President's very proud of...

              ...that he's brought them together, sitting at the same table.

              "Harry", he says to me, "if it's the only thing I'm remembered for, then so be it."

              "I'm the one who brought reconciliation to the great Chinese people...

              ...for the betterment of mankind."

              You've excelled yourself.

              This is a better yarn than Arthur Braithwaite.

              - Are you implying that I'm... - Doesn't matter what I think. It plays.

              First instalments. Abraxas and Marta.

              - Instalments? - Payments on results, Harry.

              And the farm as such, Andy?

              Looking good.

              Look at those tits.


              You want to pay off the debt? With what?

              Let's say I won the lottery, Ramon.

              And I want to buy your farm from you.

              What do you mean, you want to buy my farm? I don't have no farm.

              Yes, you do, Ramon. I know all about it.


              You won the lottery, you can pay me $     an acre.

              Two. You'll be paid direct from Europe.

              I've made the necessary arrangements.

              You won't mind if I deduct your tailoring bill?

              It has a bad smell.

              That'll be the fish.

              I'll pay you back. I'm going to straighten out.

              Just don't resent me for doing you a favour.

              Harry, this is Panama, where no good deed goes unpunished.


              There's two ways we can deal with this one, old girl.

              Sweat it out for six months, then fall into each other's arms.

              "Darling, why didn't we ever do this before?"

              Method B, the preferred one...

              ...full-on affair, now. Observing tight security all round.

              See how we like it. If we don't, chuck it in. No one's the wiser.

              I don't suppose it's occurred to you that I might hugely prefer someone else?

              Is that a "no"?


              Come and dance.

              Oh God, you don't dance as well, do you?

              As well as what?

              My chaps in London are in a bit of a spin about it.

              I understand they're talking to Washington.

              If it's being sold out of the back door how come we've never heard of it?

              Indeed, I'm sure the question is being asked, and not to your credit, Nigel...

              ...as political officer. - What about the Americans?

              They've billions of dollars in surveillance out there.

              Why don't they know about it?

              Perhaps they do know about it, but they're not telling us.

              You're very quiet, Francesca.

              What are your feelings about Andrew's amazing discoveries?

              Well, I couldn't possibly comment.

              No insight into the Osnard methods, I'm afraid.

              - Try not to look so furtive, Harry. - I'm feeling a little anxious, Andy.

              - How do you think I feel? - Is something wrong?

              Yes, there is. We bombed in Washington. Sit down.

              The Yanks say we're talking through our asses.

              No Silent Opposition.

              No conspiracy to sell off the canal. No fuck all.

              - The Yanks can't say that. - They just said it.

              The Buchan material holds no credibility. No credibility equals no cash.

              Without the Yanks to hold our hands, London will pull the entire project.


              Because in matters of intelligence, dear Harry, as in most matters...

              ...merry England sucks on the American hind tit.

              It's called "The Special Relationship".

              Mickie will be very downcast, Andy. So will Marta.

              What about us? We both had a good thing going here.

              I was counting on making myself a pension.

              You thinking of retiring?

              Scrap heap at    in this game.

              It was blue chip material. You said so yourself.

              London needs something solid. Documents. Evidence.

              Does your wife bring home papers? Canal stuff?

              - What's that got to do with anything? - Does she? That's all.

              It happens.

              Take a look up its skirt.

              Come here. Give it back.

              It's a camera.

              One picture's worth a thousand words. Or $    . Tell her that.

              Tell her?

              Why not? Put her on the payroll. Double your money.

              I want something on Delgado's dealings with the Chinese.

              Something in writing, Harry. No more bullshit.

              Louisa would never betray Delgado. She worships the man.

              Does she know where you're at?

              Not an inkling.

              Ever tell her about your prison days?

              Not as such.

              Haul her in...

              ...or I might have to bring her up to speed on Harry Pendel, the criminal.

              You stay away from her.

              Okay, I'll handle it.

              You're rather tense tonight, Lou.

              Maybe because you're peering over my shoulder again.

              Or maybe because I had a call from Donna.


              Teddy's wife.

              She said that you were seen coming out of the Hotel Paraíso.

              I said, "Of course, Harry's a tailor. He has clients from different walks of life."


              You never had to meet them at the Hotel Paraíso before.

              I had a fitting with Andy. Andy Osnard.

              He's a bit eccentric.

              Are you seeing someone?


              You stay out late and you don't say where.

              You come on at me like a great lover, and then you don't touch me for weeks.

              What's going on, Harry?

              Who's getting the rest of you?

              Uncle Benny, I'm cornered.

              There's nothing for it, I'll have to tell her the truth.

              She deserves the truth.

              Harry boy, I've told you time and again...

              ...a man who tells the truth is bound to be found out sooner or later.

              Try sincerity, that's a virtue.

              But truth, it's an affliction.

              I swear to you on my life...

              ...there's no other woman.

              Never has been. Never will be.



              I'm a thief in my own home.

                But with best intentions.   With a good heart.

                For the family. Like you did for me.

              That's true.

                You're the apple of my eye, Harry.

                Stay "schtum"   and I'll always be there for you.


              I couldn't sleep.

              What do you mean, you couldn't sleep?

              You were just out cold.

              Busy times at the shop, Lou.

              Who is this Andy Osnard?

              Tell me about him.

              He's become a bit of a pal, as such.

              I used to be your pal, "as such".

              I'd like to meet him.

              Why don't you invite him on Sunday?

              That's Sarah's birthday.

              Why not?

              I could look into it.

              If you don't want to call him, just give me his number, I'll call him.


              This season's suits we have are very thin and it's lined with the best fabric.

              Buchan. Lady Jane's. Twenty minutes. That's two zero minutes.

              Over and out.

              He's been waiting and complaining.

              Sorry, Teddy. Jacket's ready. Just pop into the fitting room.

              Sorry, Hymie, I need this.

              In you go, Teddy.

              Even better than I thought.

              You've got the look of Bobby De Niro in this jacket.

              Don't schmooze me, Harry. What's going on?

              A little bird tells me you paid off your overdraft.

              Business is good, Teddy.

              I smell a story.

              There's no story.

              You want me to make one up?

              Don't. Louisa reads your gossip column. I don't want her to know I owed money.

              Come clean.

              Probably won't run it.

              I'm like that. The more I know, the less I print.

              You know I'll find out what you're up to...

              ...don't you?

              Well, I had absolutely no idea how delightful Panama was going to be.

              Yes. It's a beautiful country.

              I was thinking about the people.

              Meant a lot to me, being able to tag along today.

              It's been a pleasure to have you along, Andy.

              Isn't it, darling?

              Can we go and see the monkeys, Dad?

              There's a monkey island, Andy, and we always bring bananas for them.

              - What's my birthday girl say? - Can Andy come, too?

              No, Andy needs to stay here and keep Mummy company.

              You go with Dad.

              In you go.

              Cast off, Captain.

              So, Andy...

              ...maybe you wouldn't mind telling me what you're up to.


              There's something between you and my husband, I know it.

              I can feel it.

              Ever since he's met you, he's a changed man.

              Sneaky and secretive.

              All of a sudden, I'm his enemy and you're his friend.

              If I didn't know him better, I'd say the two of you were gay.

              Do you want it straight?


              You'll keep it secret?

              If I have to.

              And he's told you nothing? Absolutely nothing?


              Information is my business. Gossip. Harry's kind of gossip.

              He's smart, he's down-to-earth. He's got great contacts and no agenda.

              Are you talking about spying?

              That's much too heavy a word for what Harry's doing.

              Are you paying him?

              No money, I'm afraid. Just the honour and privilege of service.

              Is that why he's been looking at all my private papers?

              Oh, no, Harry. Bless him.

              That really is going too far.

              Spying on his own wife.

              I'm terribly sorry.

              Still, you are "The Canal", aren't you?

              You sit at Ernie Delgado's right hand...

              ...and Harry's aware that we're desperate to know what's going to become of it.

              The canal is always going to run the way it's run.

              Ernie Delgado will make sure of it.

              That's as may be...

              ...but the canal is our main artery.

              You can't blame us if we need constant reassurance.

              Harry's only trying to help.


              ...use him.

              I love him.

              As we both do.

              I'm going for a swim.

              - There's one. - Where?

              - Just up there. - Yeah.

              He's lovely.


              ...tell me. How did Harry win your heart?

              I was raised in the canal...

              ...around military types and engineers like my father...

              ...and I had never met anyone like Harry.

              He treated me like a princess.

              Sent me flowers every day, wrote me love letters.

              Did he have to get Arthur Braithwaite's permission?

              He called him in London. He was on his deathbed, the poor man.

              Did he fly over for the funeral?

              Arthur forbade it.

              Harry was completely wiped out.

              I'm sure he was.

              So the two of you have lived "Happily ever after" ever since?

              Yeah, till you came along.

              Don't you ever feel like breaking out...

              ...running wild?

              Just for the badness?


              Harry is my virtue.

              Without him...

              ...I'd be...

              You'd be...

              ...like Harry without Arthur Braithwaite.

              She's finally asleep.

              I think she enjoyed her day.

              Yeah, I think so, too.

              And did you?

              Yeah. Kind of.

              What did you and Andy find to talk about?

              You, mostly.

              Bit of a boring topic, wasn't it?

              You're a very surprising person, Harry Pendel.

              After all these years?

              Just don't come between me and Ernie Delgado.

              My work is off-limits. Do you understand?

              Okay, Lou. Absolutely.




              Make me laugh.

              - You've got a gift for it. - What?

              Letting go.

              - Few people can. - You can't... or won't.


              - I've been reading your files. - Those fucking files.

              We know too much about each other.

              Kills the romance.

              What romance?



              Yeah. What?

              It's a bit of a bad time actually.

              Yes, well, I didn't know what she knew, did I?

              I'm sure you handled it like a master.

               Look. I had to think on my feet, didn't I?

                All right, if you must.

                Rendezvous number three.

                You know where that is, don't you?


                  :  .

                What's this crisis that warrants dragging me out on a Sunday night?

                - Look, about Louisa... - Some woman, Harry. I envy you.

                The way she looks up to you. You're her "moral virtue", her centre.

                "Just like Arthur Braithwaite was to you", was what she said.

                I enjoyed the comparison.

                - You didn't say anything? - Now, would I!

                What did you think I'd say, that I was brought up by a Jew in the rag trade?

                Burned his frocks as a favour?

                Hated the old fellow, did you?

                I know this place. We can talk in there.

                I loved him. I revere him.

                Dressed him up as Arthur Braithwaite. Gave him a good suit is all.

                "Clothes maketh the man" and all that.

                Come on, let's dance. Camp it up a bit.

                Come on. I'll lead.

                I gather you've made no attempt to recruit her so far.

                As of now, that is correct.

                She seemed perfectly approachable to me.

                - Thought I might have a go at her myself. - No, don't do that.

                Is this what you came to tell me? Lay off her?

                I came to tell you I've had enough. I want out.

                I don't think so. You've taken the money. I want something for it.

                Those documents.

                Those ones that you snapped. Did you read them?

                I was pushed for time, Andy.

                Pension scheme for lock-keepers. Dredging contract.

                Water analysis. Zilch.

                Time to deliver.

                - I'm sick and tired of your fucking bullshit. - I can't go on with it!

                You want me to tell Louisa about Harry the convict?

                Will you tell me what you want?

                Come here. Keep moving. Stop acting so butch.

                If Delgado's flogging off the canal on the instructions of the President...

                ...what's the price? Which end-buyer is on the contract?

                When are they going to be signing it? Time and place.

                And how much are Delgado and the Pres creaming off for themselves?


                - Can't hear you, Harry. - Right.

                There's your end of the deal. Abraxas, the Silent Opposition.

                I want a clear signal. Are they going for direct action or not?

                Direct action being in this case?

                Shootybangs, for fuck's sake.

                Raising the level of proletarian consciousness.

                Putting bombs in banks, gunning down a few millionaires.

                I don't think so, Andy. Not Mickie, not Marta.

                What are they doing?

                Are they buying arms? Who from? Where? When? Who's gets them?

                What'll they do once they've got them?

                This time they must do more than tool around in white shirts...

                ...and get the shit beaten out of 'em by the Dingbats!

                - Come on. - I've got to get out of here. I can't think.

                - I can't breathe. - Go.

                So get me some answers. Your ass is on the line.

                London's coming to the wire.

                You come through with the stuff, we make you rich.

                If you don't, we may tell the Pans that you've been spying for the Yanks.

                You and Louisa both, do you understand what I'm saying?

                I haven't come clean with you, you know.

                I've been dragging my feet.

                At Mickie's behest, I might add.

                He has a huge arms shipment on the way.

                But he plans to pay for it from another source.

                Yeah? Who the fuck would that be?

                Won't say.

                No. He wouldn't, would he? How much?

                It's big money, Andy.

                "Harry", he says to me, "Your guys pay peanuts."

                "This is out of their league."

                This is an interesting development, Harry.

                Give me a ballpark figure.

                Ten. We're talking $   million.

                $   million?


                $   million.


                - Andrew. - Sir.

                The winds of fortune blew me to Caracas yesterday...

                ...allowing me this brief stopover.

                I'm on my way to Washington.

                Our revered leader, Henry Cavendish, is coming too.

                Pick up the telephone.

                There's prestige at stake, you see.

                Now, Andrew...

                ...l've come all this way to look you in the eye and ask you this.

                Can you back it up? Are we copper-bottomed?


                How much are they asking for?

                $   million.

                $   million.

                If I get it for you, can you guarantee action?


                Go after them, Andrew.

                Push. The iron is hot. Strike.

                Sir? Excuse me. Can I have your glass? We are ready for landing.

                Thank you.

                I hear that Delgado is setting up a canal police force...

                ...with powers to search the ships.

                It will never happen. It would kill the drug trade, the arms trade.

                Everything we hold dear.

                The way it is now, you pay your dues, don't piss in the locks...

                ...they don't fuck with you.

                Does Louisa know anything about this little plan?

                Leave Louisa out of this, Teddy.

                Take it easy, Harry. Time you took some holiday.

                You look fucked out.

                Maybe if you paid your bill. I might be able to take a holiday.

                Maybe you'd be healthier if you stuck to tailoring.

                Listen, Teddy...

                It doesn't look right. This is not a suit, it's a piece of shit.

                Come on, it's only the first fitting. Everything will be fixed.

                I don't know. I think I'm gonna go down the road to Armani.

                Get myself a proper suit.

                He doesn't like it when I mention Armani.

                Why you make me this shit? Why can't you make a suit like Armani?

                Why can't I make a suit like Armani?

                Do you think Armani could make a suit like Harry Pendel?

                Why not?

                Okay. Get out. Fuck off. Go down the road. Buy an Armani.

                Save yourself $    . See if I care.

                At Pendel and Braithwaite you get Savile Row bespoke tailoring...

                ...with     years of tradition behind it.

                Down the road you get an Italian gents' outfitter.

                If you don't understand the difference, then save your money.

                Harry, come on.

                The whole country is going down the plug hole.

                Nobody cares.

                Someone's got to stand up and be counted.

                Someone has to say, "Here I am. This is what I stand for."

                Lmpeccable standards and old-fashioned integrity.

                And if you don't like it, you can go down the road.

                Let me tell you something. When you've gone down that road, you can't come back.

                When you've gone down that road, it's over. It's curtains.

                And I'm not just talking about Panama.

                I'm talking about the whole human race.

                You, too. Get out.

                Harry, I was only kidding, I swear.

                It's just a sleeve.

                I swear to God.

                Teddy came to see Mickie.

                He brought two goons with him. They say they were Ministry of Interior.


                Of course, Teddy. He's the worst of them. They pay him, the ruling families.

                He takes money to inform on his friends.

                They were asking around about us.

                They came to me, too.

                Teddy thinks we might be involved in some political thing against the system.

                Like the old times.

                You and Marta?

                You and Mickie.

                Why would they think that?

                Well, maybe you know, Harry.

                I couldn't do it again.

                No more prison. They break you in there.

                You got so much courage in life. When it's gone, it's spent.

                I got none left.

                I know what you mean. I've been there. I know.

                And they came to you?

                Big Chinese guy. The man who beat her before.

                What did they do to you?

                Nothing. They wanted information.

                They said if I did not give it to them...

                ...they'd make sure I looked the same on both sides.

                What information?

                About both of you. How often you meet. What you talk about.

                I want you both to get out of town. Take a holiday.

                There's a fireworks festival in Guarare. You love fireworks, Mickie.

                Here, the address is on the label. Pete Abuleira lent it to me.

                What are you going to do?

                Sort it out.

                Talk to people I know.

                Better we go in separate cars. I follow you later.

                - No more drinking now. - Okay.

                Thanks, Harry.

                Take care.

                I never lied to you, Marta. You know that.

                I may not have told you everything, but what I told you was true.

                There's only so many people you can do that to...

                ...tell the truth.

                Other people, you know, they're different. They need to be...


                Helped. Yes.

                You flatter them. You make things up.

                They start believing you, Harry.

                Their leading man is one Michelangelo Abraxas.

                  Known to many, I am sure,   as the Elusive Pimpernel...

                  ... of the popular movement   against General Manuel Noriega.

                  Abraxas is a man of proven integrity,   skilled in clandestine warfare.

                His second in command, but I submit his equal in skill and resolution...

                ...is code-name Marta...

                ...another veteran of the anti-Noriega resistance.

                For cover purposes, she's employed as accountant-receptionist...

                ...by our own Panamanian head agent, the redoubtable Buchan.

                If I may say so, Elliot, a Silent Opposition doesn't send radio messages.

                Half don't even possess telephones. Why would they call themselves "silent"?

                They're a life-force, not an Embassy.


                ...small farmers, peasants, have-nots, penniless students...

                ...people we wouldn't entertain in the woodshed.

                So why should we support them, Henry?

                Because if we don't, someone else will.

                Because the Silent Opposition is the new Panama in the new millennium.

                And getting in on the ground floor with these chaps...

                ...is the sweetest, cheapest way of saving the canal.

                Do you think, personally, this Abraxas is presidential material?


                Abraxas is world-class. Courageous...

                  ... unsullied, incorruptible.

                  A man to dream   of when you're shaping nations.

                But Abraxas can't go it alone. He needs our support now.

                If U.S. Military assistance is guaranteed...

                ...Seňor Abraxas and his forces will launch an armed attack on the Government.

                They will commandeer the radio stations and the Canal Administration Office.

                Subject to advance payment for arms, equipment, and medical supplies.

                How much?

                The sort of money you boys leave under the plate, Elliot.

                How much?

                $   million.

                Elliot, may I say a couple of words, please?

                I'm only a rookie at heart.

                Don't know too much about the ins and outs of politics, but I know this...

                ...I was the last American commander in Panama.

                And I had the task of taking our men out of there.

                Only retreat of my career.

                  Broke my heart.

                There is a missing star on our flag, gentlemen.

                Looks to me that God has given us a second chance, here.




                They went over like nine pins.

                Asked for $   million and guess what? They beat me down to $   million.

                I'm on my way. Press play, Andy.


                Why are you hassling Mickie and Marta?

                What are they up to this time, Harry?

                What are you up to? Spin me one of your stories.

                You stay away from them or else.

                How can you fuck that faceless half-breed?

                No, no. Relax.

                You're a disgrace to that suit, Teddy.

                - Hey. - Louisa.

                - There's something I've got to tell you. - Okay.

                - Lou, I need to talk to you. - Okay.



                Yeah, it's Louisa. I can't hear you.

                I'll get... Okay.

                It's for you.

                It's me.

                  Oh, Harry. I need you. Please come.

                  It's Mickie. He...


                I've got to go.

                So, it's Marta? All this time, right under my nose, I...

                - No, Lou. You don't understand. - Oh, come on, Harry, please.

                Be a man.

                - Well, if you love her, go. - Yes, I do love her.

                But I've never made love to her.

                Get out.

                Get out!


                Oh, shit.

                Washington has agreed that as we have the contacts...

                ...that we should undertake the financing and arming of the Silent Opposition.

                And it's been agreed that that task be undertaken by an older hand...

                ...by myself, in fact.

                And on a more formal basis than hitherto.

                I dare say that'll come as a bit of a relief to you, Andrew.

                Equipping an army, tedious business.

                Not the sort of task for your mercurial brain.

                Best left to us humble planners and plodders, eh?

                It's fine in principle, Scotty. Just one snag.

                They won't talk to anyone but me.

                I think you'll find, Andy, that however shy they are...

                ...they'll see their way to talking to a candid friend...

                ...who has $   million to spend on them.

                Wouldn't you say, Ambassador?

                You know, for quite a while I was sceptical about this...

                ...extraordinarily Silent Opposition...

                ...and I always thought that Mickie Abraxas was just a harmless drunk.

                Funny how wrong you can be.

                I think Andy might have a genuine problem in conjuring up one of these people for you.

                Afraid so, Scotty. You could put it like this:

                If you don't go through me, there is no Silent Opposition.

                It doesn't do to be too possessive, Andrew.

                We must be brave and wean them off the Osnard teat, my boy.

                Might I offer myself as a go-between, so to speak...

                ...to verify Andy's dispersal of these funds?

                Kind of you to offer, Ambassador, perhaps so.

                Meanwhile, Andrew can brief me on the details.

                We have a lot to catch up on, eh?

                Malt whisky till the small hours in the privacy of your abode...

                ...is indicated for Osnard and Luxmore, I believe.



                Andrew, I take it you have a secure safe in your apartment?

                Absolutely, sir.

                Fort Knox.

                Ambassador, I'll get my files.

                You are getting out, aren't you?


                Too early to say.

                Well, you'll have to, won't you? There is no Silent Opposition, is there?

                - Who told you that? - You did, just now. In the meeting.

                You made it all up, didn't you?

                I don't know what you're talking about.

                Do you know I think you're the wickedest human being I've ever met.

                That was the attraction, wasn't it?

                How about a farewell fuck?

                Here in the office.

                A knee-trembler.

                You know, I think I'm cured.

                Excuse me, Francesca. A private word with Andrew.

                He's all yours.

                My duty is to inform the Foreign Office of this travesty.

                How much is your duty worth?

                - $  million. - $  million.

                - $ .  million. - $ .   million.


                - Andrew. - Goodnight.

                You got a lovely little family, Harry. Only one thing can spoil it.

                What's that, Uncle Benny?

                The truth, Harry. And that's the honest truth.


                I'm going out. Watch the children.


                I'm not imposing on you, am I?

                You're not imposing on me in the least.

                Who the devil's that?

                Shit. It's Buchan Two. We got a situation. I'll get her into the other room.

                When you hear the door shut, get out.

                Take the lift to the lobby. Give the concierge $ ...

                ...and he'll get you a taxi to the El Panama Hotel.

                A taxi? At this time of night?

                I don't speak Spanish, Andy. I'm unarmed. Life is cheap here.

                You can handle it. You're a field man, aren't you?

                What about the bags?

                I'll guard them with my life. Believe me.

                Hello, Louisa.

                - Something on your mind? - What the fuck have you done?

                What is all this bullshit about Abraxas and Delgado?

                Don't worry about it. It's crap. It's all a game.

                - Where's Harry? - Harry's okay.

                I'm going to take care of Harry and you.

                Get your fucking hands off me!


                We both know why you're here.

                - Don't you... - Ah, yes.

                Oh, shit! You...

                What have you gotten Harry into?

                Harry got himself into this, with his own ludicrous stories.

                When the Americans take back their canal, it'll be down to him, not me.


                Get out of my way!

                I killed him, Marta. I killed him with my bullshit.

                He said the police were after him. He said:

                "Tell Harry I'm sorry."

                And I didn't finish his suit.

                It would've given him back his dignity.

                - He wouldn't have shot himself in that suit. - He was always going to do it.

                He was just looking for a good enough excuse.

                Should I close his eyes?

                You must go now, Harry.

                Go, Harry.



                Harry, my man. Where have you been?

                Louisa was here. I think she thought I was leading you astray or something.


                I see. Go on.

                So we have to stop all this, you hear?

                Mickie knew nothing about it. You know and I know, I made it all up.

                  Oh, it's too late for that, old boy.   Out of our hands.

                A case of life imitating art.



                Bit of a set-back, sir. It's Mickie Abraxas.

                Bullet through the head.


                Set-back? On the contrary.

                No, they'll probably claim he killed himself in police custody.

                That's standard euphemism for assassinations in regimes of this ilk.

                No, no one's going to swallow that one.


                  Leader of the   Democratic Rebel Movement murdered.

                  Yes. I think we could have the peg   we're looking for, Andy.

                  I'll inform our American cousins.

                  Now, tell me, Andrew, did you manage   to resolve that Buchan Two situation?

                  I got the distinct impression   she was in a state of high anxiety.

                  You must impress on your operatives   the importance of remaining in control.



                  Es muy importante!

                Hello, is anybody there? I've got to talk to the Ambassador.

                I'm English. It's a matter of grave importance.

                Mickie Abraxas died three hours ago.

                Executed by a Government death squad.

                I have informed the President. He has authorised us to go on in.

                We have that right under the treaty if the canal is threatened.

                Operation Straight Arrow is all yours, General.

                How soon can you be operational?

                - Give me four hours, sir. - That fast?

                My rapid response units are on full alert, sir.

                Carrier Alaska's off the coast of Panama.

                Eight F   Raptors are on alert.

                Twelve gun ships. A battalion of marines.

                - Yes? - I've got to speak to the Ambassador.

                The Ambassador is busy. You'll have to come back tomorrow.


                I am Buchan.

                I made it all up. You've got to stop it. You see, I'm Buchan.

                I'm sorry, but aren't you that tailor fellow?

                I'm afraid you're rather upset.

                Nigel, could you show the gentleman out?

                - Yes. - There is no Silent Opposition!

                Someone's got to blow the whistle and it might as well be me.

                You're a diplomat, my dear. Be diplomatic. Can't interfere at this stage.

                It would reflect very, very badly. And what could we say?

                That some deranged tailor-johnny told us it was all a joke?


                - Louisa, darling. What... - I need to talk to Ernesto.



                Oh, Harry.

                Well, if the Ambassador's been recalled, give me somebody who hasn't been.

                His secretary, his butler, his...

                Come with me, Louisa.

                We're going to see the President.



                Oh, no.

                Come on.

                You fucking shit.

                What the fuck do you want?

                I want you to come back to the Embassy with me and tell them it's all a mistake!

                Harry, I've got our money here. Yours and mine.

                I'm trying to get out of here before they close the airport.

                I'm going straight to Switzerland. Open numbered accounts for both of us.

                You're going to be a rich man. Just give me a lift.

                - We're going back. - Get out of my way!

                - Are you not listening to me? - Don't be bloody annoying, Harry!

                Shit! They're here.


                Will you vouch for me? My credentials. I need to get on a plane.

                You wish for this man to be included?

                I've never seen him before.


                As you can see, the airport is closed, but palms have been greased...

                ...and once our arrangement has been concluded...

                ...you'll be free to go.

                It is a fabrication, Mr. President. A pack of lies, a travesty.

                The canal is safe. Secure. Unthreatened.

                Call off your dogs, sir. Call them off.

                  Parece que el asunto se ha arreglado.

                I'll walk you to your plane.

                Could this be the beginning of a beautiful friendship?

                I think it desperately unlikely.

                  Mission aborted. Return to base.


                I don't know.

                I thought it was a game.

                And behind my back.

                All those lies about the President and Delgado.

                Oh, yes, the lies.

                I'm very, very sorry about the lies.


                ...I never did work in Savile Row, did I? Not as such.

                I learned the tailoring in prison.

                I burnt down my Uncle Benny's warehouse to help him out...

                ...and then, when I'd done my time...

                ...Uncle Benny, he gives me my portion...

                ...sends me out here so I can't get into trouble.

                I pretended he was Arthur Braithwaite.

                You see, lying's what you do in prison, Lou.

                It's instead of love, really.

                You tell a thing the way it ought to be, because it's much better than how it is.

                If you follow me.

                Why didn't you just tell me from the start?

                Because I fell in love with you, my princess.

                And I knew that I wasn't good enough for you...

                ...not as I stood.

                Harry, you are such a fool.

                Dad, you promised to tell me a story. Where were you?

                Oh, Sarah.

                I'm so sorry.

                No need to cry about it, Dad.

                Hi, Dad.

                - Hi, Mum. - Hi.

                So what do you want me to do?

                What do I want you to do?

                What you always do...

                ...make breakfast.

                Can we have pancakes?

                - Yeah. - You want pancakes?


                Well, there's two ways we can deal with this one, my dear.


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