Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [after carefully washing his hands in the bathroom and inspecting himself in the mirror there, enters the ornately-decorated office where Catherine is sitting naked on the chair, her wrists manacled behind her back again] So, Denise... Yes, that is what they call you, isn't it? Professionally. So, Denise...

[letting his eyes roam over her naked flesh]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: You are not a child.


Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: That much anyone can see. Now you know where you are and you know what I want. This is your last chance to cooperate.

Catherine Pradier: [swallowing hard] You know I can't do that.

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [bending over her, taking her by her bare shoulders, looking quite sincerely into her eyes] Don't make me turn them loose on you.


Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Don't make me do that, please.

[drawing out that word, as she just looks at him ruefully, and he switches his attention to her confiscated handbag on the table, rifling through her identity documents]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Is this all she was carrying?

First Gestapo Guard: Yes, Herr Obersturmführer!

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Where is the microfilm with your instructions?

[no answer from her]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: You can tell me now or after they've finished pulling out your fingernails one by one, it's your choice.

Catherine Pradier: [fighting back tears] There is no microfilm.

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [selecting an ornament and holding it up, rubbing it appreciatively] This is 17th Century Chinese porcelain. It's a work of art. It's unique. Priceless. Once destroyed, it cannot be replaced. It will be gone forever. Like your beauty.

[drops the vase, letting it smash into smithereens at her bare, bound feet]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Do not let me do the same to you.

Maj. Tom O'Neill: You call throwing a helpless girl to the Gestapo a weapon?... I wouldn't be you, Ridley, not for a million victories over a million Hitlers!... You're a sadist! You're insane!

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [in full Nazi uniform, entering the ornately decorated office, where Catherine, her clothing in some disarray, sits handcuffed] The young lady is asking herself where we have met before. It was in a restaurant here in Paris. You were having trouble with a drunken oaf. Lamentably one of my own men. Happily I was able to be of service to the young lady. And I see that once again you are in need of my help.

[turns to face the two men standing by ominously, speaking theatrically]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Why is this young lady in handcuffs? Release her immediately!

[sighs, then guffaws]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Oh, forgive me, mademoiselle, I am surrounded by fools and barbarians.

[they have released her, and he offers her a cigarette from an opened carton tray]

Catherine Pradier: [intimidated, shaking her head uneasily] Thank you, no.

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Something to drink?

[he sees she is going to decline that too, and sighs]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: As you wish. But perhaps you will tell me just how you come to be in the hands of my security services.

Catherine Pradier: [meekly tremulous] I was hoping that you would be able to tell me that.

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [selecting a cigarette for himself, the portrait of Adolf Hitler looming large over his shoulder, laughing as he lights up, the cigarette-holder accentuating that he is actually a refined man] Very well.

[slamming down the packet, draws from the cigarette, turning very cold]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: You are a serving British officer. You're also a terrorist operating behind enemy lines, out of uniform, for which the penalty, under the Geneva Convention, is death.

Catherine Pradier: [hoarsely] What would you Germans know about the Geneva Convention?


Catherine Pradier: You couldn't even spell it!

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [rises, angered, with that portrait behind him making him even more imposing, then smirks] A woman of character as well as virtue. You should be spared the less attractive aspects of an interrogation in this building. I can offer you that.

[she looks at him warily, full of resignation]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: All I want from you is a few simple straightforward answers.

[sits down behind his large desk]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: I want the details of your sabotage plan in Calais. I want the names of your collaborators and I want the precise timing of the operation.

Catherine Pradier: [softly] You know I can't tell you that.

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: [scoffs] My dear young lady, there is nothing in that beautiful head of yours that I cannot make you tell me, huh?

[she looks at him dismally, then the phone rings, he answers curtly]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Yes. I will be there shortly.

[replacing the receiver, rises, turning to leave the office, addressing his thuggy henchmen]

Hans-Dieter Stromelburg: Prepare the young lady for a little talk when I return.

[she shifts uncomfortably in the chair, knows this is not going to be pleasant, as he leaves, closing the door]