Flame

Nimbus Film presents

A Nimbus Film/Wüste Filmproduktion

Wüste Film Ost/Studio Babelsberg production

Based on actual events

Do you remember when they arrived?

Do you remember April 9th?

I think you do. Everybody does.

All of a sudden they were everywhere.

The Gestapo, The Wehrmacht, Abwehr, SS.

All the German corps.

German Nazis.

Danish Nazis.

They came out of the dark.

They had been awaiting the day.

Did you go outside and watch?

What were you thinking?

Flame & Citron

A film by Ole Christian Madsen

North of Copenhagen, May 1944

Act with determination.

Execute your plan.

If you stay calm, no one will suspect a thing.

People will only be looking at the dead.

At nothing else.

They won't see you leaving.

They won't remember you...

...at all.

I know I'm doing the right thing.

It's the only right thing.

You see?

Yes...

Lieutenant Østergaard Petersen

Yes?

Flowers from Dagmarhus headquarters.

- Østergard Petersen? - That's correct.

Shall I sign for them?

No.

You often asked me why.

Why we do this.

Why?

- Don't provoke them. - Sure.

One good reason:

The Schalburg Corps.

Good morning.

Papers.

No, I don't think so... Have you seen any papers?

Danes in German uniforms. Traitors.

Some are experienced soldiers from the Eastern Front.

Brutal bastards.

Impossible to get close to.

Always in groups.

They are... vermin.

Go!

The ambulance people help us.

The police help us.

Everyone who's not afraid helps us.

Editor Gaust

They've raised the reward. 10,000.

- For the both of us? - Just you.

- What do they know? - They know you're a redhead.

Get your hair dyed, Bent.

Or wear a hat.

- A hat? - Or a cap, if you prefer.

That's him.

Another good reason:

Nazi editors who spew their propaganda through newspapers.

Editor Gaust?

Each has his own reasons.

On the 9th of April Jørgen watches as the Germans march into the city.

Endless rows of soldiers make his stomach turn.

He feels sick.

A feeling that persists.

Right up until that day last summer, when he enters a radio store.

In the back room they were printing illegal flyers,

and at long last Jørgen meets like-minded people.

And before long they're involved in underground activities.

Now Jørgen and a few others are the only ones left.

Everybody else either fled, got beaten to a pulp in jail or died.

Shot at the pole.

But Jørgen... Jørgen persisted.

Smuggling British pilots at night. Getting explosives to the saboteurs.

He's eating pills to stay awake.

Procuring weapons. Everything.

And he rides with me.

Time?

11.25 pm. Shot through the back of the head.

Aksel Winther is a police solicitor.

He has access to all the confidential channels at police HQ.

He is in contact with the British and gets his orders directly from them.

Last autumn he helped the Jews flee the country.

Without him there was nothing.

Our chain of command is quite clear.

- I didn't authorise killing Gaust. - We assessed that it was safe.

- And we were in the neighbourhood. - Really?

A signature for the big shots in Stockholm.

- Some things are on the way. - What things?

Things that require discretion,

and the utmost discipline.

- You'll like it. - With Winther...

- It's big. - ...it's always big.

Mother country.

Who else would celebrate three killings in a place swarming with Germans.

That requires code.

There aren't many of us, and it's hard to tell who does what.

Once in a while we get together, but we usually work alone.

That's Bob, a veteran from the Winter War in Finland.

The schoolteacher called Brains, expert at getting information.

Big Bear, expert with the ladies. Always ready to party.

And Little Bear, great with weapons.

Rumour has it that if they shoot the man, they also shoot his wife.

The wine merchant sells information to both us and the Germans.

The Banana, former boxer who takes part in every operation he can.

Carl, a timid fellow, but tough if need be.

Heinrich and Teddy, students, the youngest of us.

Slim, he talks and talks and never stops. Always about food.

Cap, previously a nun in Belgium. Has her own group in Kastrup.

The Banana considers it his job to protect her.

And Jørgen, my friend.

We've been through this. Stay clear of him.

Karl Heinz Hoffmann. Head of the Gestapo.

He's the one hounding us.

Hoffmann wants to see you.

Make no mistake.

He's the biggest mass murderer Denmark has ever seen.

But you already know that.

May I offer you a drink?

Pardon my manners. Svend Christensen, police detective.

- And your name? - Ketty Selmer.

- Cheers, Svend Christensen. - Cheers.

Very nice.

You're married?

Yes.

- I haven't seen you here before. - I don't come here often. I travel.

- What do you do? - Fashion design and photography.

I just did a shoot for Women of the Times.

- Who are you? - Thank you for the wine.

I asked you a question.

You ask too many questions. Goodbye, Bent.

"Goodbye, Bent."

Maybe one of the boys said too much.

They would never say my name.

There she is!

Bent, it's a Kraut hotel. It's crawling with them.

- I'm going in. - Okay.

If you're not back in half an hour, I'm going in after you.

Yes.

CID. Ketty Selmer?

Nordland Hotel, Vesterbrogade, Copenhagen

What do you want?

May I come in?

Who do you know?

I design and photograph fashion.

Look.

- Why did you call me Bent? - It's your name, isn't it?

What do you really do?

- I can't tell you. - You'll have to.

I'm a courier. Stockholm-Copenhagen.

I carry letters. I know the wine merchant.

The wine merchant? He merely passes on information.

He's just a go-between. You don't work for a go-between.

I also know Winther.

What do you do for Winther?

You know I can't tell you.

- And that's not why you're here. - It isn't?

You had something else in mind.

I don't sleep with married women.

My husband is gay.

My marriage is pure pro forma. He's Swedish, so I can go back and forth.

Are you attracted to me?

Yes.

Why?

Because you're beautiful.

How old are you?

I'm 23. Why?

You're young.

Age matters.

Now, leave.

- Ketty Selmer, is that your real name? - Yes, of course. Why not?

Now, go.

This is my landlady, Lis.

And her husband, Helmer.

This is where I live.

In their basement.

It's a good place.

A good place to wait in. That's how it is.

Most of my time is spent waiting.

This is Horst Ernst Gilbert, colonel and editor at Scandinavian Telegrams,

where he spews German propaganda.

Political refugee. In reality he's a highly placed spy in the Abwehr.

Closest collaborator is Hermann Seibold.

SS-Obersturmbannführer. Head of agents in Scandinavia.

And lastly, Mrs Elisabeth Lorentzen.

An author. Highly placed in the Abwehr and a secretary to Gilbert.

Care for some pastry?

And it's real coffee.

- They're Germans? - German spies!

Yes, but Germans nonetheless.

But the Liberation Council issued a ban on liquidation of Germans?

It's more of a recommendation. One that we do not follow.

It's a British order. London wants Abwehr extinguished in Scandinavia.