The Good German Page #2

It was an honest disagreement.

What do you need?

Papers.

To get someone out of Germany.

-A Nazi?

-Not a Nazi. A friend of mine.

With what I've been through, you'd

ask me to help a Nazi escape Germany?

Hey, cry me a river.

F***, everyone in this town's

got a hard-luck story.

You gonna help me or not?

I'll see what I can do.

Great. Just don't Jew me on the price.

Lena?

-Where's Emil Brandt?

-Who?

-Emil Brandt.

-Who the f*** is Emil Brandt?

-Where's Emil Brandt?

-F*** you!

F***!

Who's Emil Brandt?

-Emil?

-Who is he?

They were looking for him

in your place, Lena. Where is he?

-He's dead.

-Don't lie to me!

He died.

He died in the war.

Like you f***ing know! Who is he?

He was my husband.

Lena?

-Emil Brandt. That's your husband?

-Yes.

I'm Lena Brandt.

-A last name. What a cozy feeling.

-Tully--

He must have done something

if they're hopped up to find him.

I'm gonna find out sooner or later!

He was a mathematician.

He saw numbers in his head?

It's bullshit! They broke my f***ing arm!

He was a nobody.

-Somebody's secretary.

-Whose secretary?

What does it matter who?

My husband brought him his coffee

and took steno.

When's the last time you saw him?

Three-- Three years ago.

I'm with you now, Tully.

How am I supposed to help you, Lena,

if you won't help me?

I would never hurt you, Tully.

Never.

You can get anything

on the black market.

I talked to someone.

A little lop-cock, no legs...

... but he can run down anything.

He can get you on a train out.

That's what you want, right?

They told me he was dead.

One more dead, or not dead.

Who would know?

Poor, f***ing stupid Lena.

You don't know f***ing nothing,

do you?

Hey, Sikorsky.

What happened to your arm?

Scotch from Scotland. Forty cases.

Good?

They flew it in for Churchill.

Can't afford it.

Hey, who's your comrade?

Don't worry, I'll give you a price.

I got something else for you.

Really? What's that?

Emil Brandt.

Remind me who that is.

You should know.

You've been looking for him.

Have I?

Names, names, so many names.

Maybe I should just turn him over

to the Americans.

Why don't you?

Because when everyone else

pulls up their tents...

... you Ivans will be the only game

in Berlin, and the fact is...

-... I like it here.

-That's it?

A favor?

Two hundred thousand marks.

It's not like I'm asking for real money.

Have the printing press work overtime.

Plus papers, so I can get my girlfriend

on a train out of here.

The trouble is, Tully...

... I have seen Emil Brandt's

death certificate with my own eyes.

I thought you weren't looking for him.

Now, let me do you a favor.

You remind me of my son, a little bit

of a buffoon, but good-natured.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes