Pierwsze 200 wierszy.
Se?or. Se?or.
Oh!
You've looked for this man?
Everywhere, commandant.
Now try the other half of town.
He's not a tourist, Gonzales.
He's a man on the run from his conscience,
and I want him found.
Unless you have some money, Webster, I can't serve you.
Do you think I'd come into this joint for a drink sober?
What do you want?
I told you before, weeks ago, there are no jobs for pilots.
You advertised for an air crew last week.
Ah, skip to that.
I've made my position especially clear.
There are no jobs for you in this town, Webster.
Nobody will admit there's a blacklist either, will they?
Eh, forget that.
That your car outside?
Si.
Si.
You like splashing people, don't you?
Oh!
Oh!
Ugh.
If I had my say, I'd throw away the key.
Just so you improve the room service.
- Come on. - Where?
Upstairs.
Come in.
Se?or Webster, Commandant.
Obrigado. Sit down, Mr. Webster.
You mind telling me what the hell this is all about?
Of course.
I'd offer you a drink, but I think it's only civilized
to wait until noon.
Yeah, I think I can wait until noon.
Now, what are the charges?
We have a choice, I think.
Assault, brawling in a public place, vagrancy.
I hope you pick the right one.
Or maybe I should say the wrong one.
Then I can sue you for false arrest.
I need the money.
I'm sure.
Perhaps this will help.
$100 bill, hard American currency?
What is it? Counterfeit?
Surprisingly, no. Genuine.
A bribe from the police?
Usually the other way around.
I couldn't accept.
It belongs to you, Mr. Webster.
What's the catch?
No catch.
It seems you have applied for a job.
I've applied for a lot of jobs, about a half a dozen, in fact.
Even got an ad in the paper.
"Airline pilot, temporarily unemployed."
Unemployable was the way I heard it.
Well, blacklist, if you want to know the truth.
How long is it since the crash?
- Four months? - Five.
Hm, that's correct.
Last April.
Two months in hospital.
Still, you were lucky.
Lucky? Yeah, maybe you could call it that.
The only survivor being the pilot.
Ha.
You try getting a job after something like that.
I think you've got a job.
Read this letter.
You're offered a post with a private company in Mozambique.
Salary $1,000 a month.
Plane ticket attached.
One way.
How'd you get hold of this?
You know Mozambique, perhaps?
It's a Portuguese province in East Africa, here.
Only trying to be helpful.
It'd be a lot more helpful if you had told me
how you got a hold of this.
And how come you're opening my mail?
It was being delivered to you by a man who, uh,
was involved in an accident.
Accident? What man?
His name was Vincente. Luigi Vincente.
Attorney in Lisbon for Colonel Valdez, your employer.
So his name was.
I'm afraid so.
Careless driving.
One of our great problems.
It's noon. Shall we have a drink?
If you insist.
Why is the head of the CID so concerned
with some guy getting knocked off in a car accident?
My concern is with you, Mr. Webster.
Your health and prosperity in Mozambique.
You're assuming that I'm going to accept this job.
- I would. - Oh?
If I were you, of course. Now, let's see.
When is this ticket for?
It's for today.
How come you're so anxious for me to get on that plane?
I'm concerned with your well being.
Oh.
Either I get on a plane or I spend a few days in the pokey.
Is that it?
Well, I would say it could be about 60 days.
To Mozambique.
Salud to you.
- Your boarding pass, please, sir. - Hm?
- Your boarding pass, please, sir. - Oh. I'm a leg man, myself.
Thank you. I wish you a pleasant flight.
Thank you.
He's aboard, sir.
End of phase one.
That numbered list in the briefcase
refers to bank accounts. I'm convinced of it.
All we have to do is find out where they are.
And how Vicente was killed in broad daylight
with nobody in sight.
Don't complicate my life, Gonzales.
I wonder how he feels being in an airplane again.
I think you're sitting in my seat.
But the seats are not numbered, se?or.
Then all I need is your permission.
Please.
Are you all right?
Uh, yeah. It's a little hot.
Like some cool air?
Are you going all the way?
Yeah.
So am I.
I've got a job as a singer in Mozambique.
I'm Christina Stamstrum.
I'm Brad Webster.
Please, sir. You must be seated.
Feeling better?
Oh, yes. Thank you very much.
Oh.
I must have fallen asleep.
It's all right. You're a fly weight.
Look, you didn't even dent the shoulder.
I'm sorry.
You're the one who should be resting.
Nah, it was just a little touch of food poisoning, I think.
Oh, no it wasn't.
I have a brother who hates to fly.
Some people find it terrifying.
Uh, did you-- didn't you say you had
a job in Mozambique someplace?
Mm-hmm. A place called The Club Valdez.
- Not a Colonel Valdez? - Mm-hmm.
- You too? - Yeah.
Oh, that's nice.
Did that funny, fat lawyer give you a job?
Mr. Vincente?
Well, not directly, no.
Not a very nice man.
But, still, I was glad to get the job, any job.
Been tough?
For a while.
So any kind of job, even East Africa, is exciting.
What do you do? Play or sing?
No.
No, this Colonel Valdez must have a variety of businesses.
I'm a pilot.
End of story.
Oh, I know.
If you were up front, you feel different.
Like car drivers, you know?
Good drivers can't stand anyone else at the wheel.
No, I'm afraid the true story is a little more original.
But good try.
Looking for a lift into town?
I don't know. But maybe you could tell us
where I can find a Colonel Valdez?
That's a big question, friend.
Beat it, Mr. Henderson.
These are my passengers.
Oh, I saw you back on the freeway, Carl.
What was it? Engine trouble?
Yeah. Somebody fixed the carburetor.
- Are you Webster? - So?
- Christina Stamstrum? - Yes.
Get in the car.
There's one thing about Carl.
He's a model of Mozambique's Old World hospitality.
Ha.
Take both suitcases and look after the girl.
I thought you were staying here.
I am. As soon as I see the Colonel, I'll be back and--
Se?orita.
Where will I find Colonel Valdez?
Mr. Webster, I hope you had a pleasant journey.
Colonel Valdez?
Nope.
My name is Da Silva.
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