The State accuses my client of violation of the Terrorism Act.
Shack Twala...
or Number 34, as you choose to call him...
was in his fifth year of imprisonment when this act was passed by Parliament.
I put it to Your Worship that he cannot be guilty retroactively.
Have we the prison record of the accused?
We have, Your Worship.
- He's had 10 years at Robben Island? - Yes, Your Worship.
Under what statute, Mrs. Van Niekirk, do you contend that he cannot be guilty?
Section nine, article 11, paragraph two...
of the universal declaration of human rights of the United Nations, Your Worship.
Of which the Republic of South Africa is a founding member.
The reality is that the laws of the Republic of South Africa are made in Capetown...
and not at the United Nations in New York.
What is your position?
The defense requests a dismissal.
- Any objection, Dr. Schroeder? - To the contrary.
The defense counsel's point is well taken.
The State is withdrawing its case.
The Republic of South Africa is not insensitive to the criticism leveled...
against us by the world community, however uninformed it may be.
We have therefore decided to withdraw the charge...
trusting that a greater justice will have been served.
It is understood that the prisoner will be released.
The State does not object to that release.
Prisoner Number 34, otherwise known as Shack Twala, is free.
This court stands adjourned for lunch.
Congratulations.
She got you off. Christ, man, you should be dancing.
I will, as soon as I pick up the new steps.
It's hard for him to realize that he really is free.
- Jim Keogh, Shack Twala. - Hello.
I'm very grateful, Mrs. Van Niekirk.
I'll take you to Antonio's for a lovely victory lunch.
Let's all drive over to my office.
I've a bottle of champagne there I've saved for this...
but I never dreamt we'd open it.
I hope it is a big bottle, I have 10 years to make up.
Yes, but slowly.
The same people still run things. You've got to watch your step.
No, they have got to watch their step.
So says Number 34.
Good day. Your identifications, please.
- Enjoying your holiday? - Yes, very.
I think your country is wonderful.
- Your houseboy? - My client. I'm an attorney.
- Let's see your pass. - He was just released from Robben Island.
He's being issued a new pass this afternoon.
- Do you speak English, boy? - Yes.
Yes, constable.
Now then, without your lawyer, do you have a pass?
- No. - No, constable.
No blacks allowed on the street without a pass. As a lawyer, you know that.
Now, get out and place your hands on the roof of the car.
What do I do?
He's not under arrest! You've no reason to handcuff him.
- Get out of the way! - I want your name and badge number.
Mix with Kaffirs, you get treated like one.
You bastard.
I'm all right.
We're dead men. Come on.
Let's report this to the authorities.
Those were the authorities back there.
I'm no criminal. I'll go to the British Consul and tell them what happened.
- That you acted in self-defense? - Well, it was. He was gonna kill me.
This can be straightened out.
By you going to prison for five years, plus five for aiding a black in a criminal act.
For me, a one-way ticket to the death block in Pretoria Central.
It will go down in the records as another suicide by a Kaffir.
- What the bloody hell's a Kaffir? - A black man in South Africa.
- There must be something we can do. - There is, and we're doing it. Run like hell.
- Now, where do we drop you? - Johannesburg.
900 miles! We're putting you off at the next bus stop.
How long do you think he'd stay free with handcuffs on?
- That's his lookout. - Also yours.
When they get him, why should he protect you? They'll question him...
- In the Truth Room. - He'd inform on his own father.
- And mother. - 900 miles?
We've got to get out of here, but first to Johannesburg.
- To chauffer you home? - There is a man who will help us.
Us? Suddenly I've got a partner! What the bloody hell do I need you for?
To get you out of the country. I know who is reliable and who isn't.
He's right. You've no chance without him, and he's no chance without you.
Accept that.
Now, you go north to Johannesburg, cross the border to Botswana...
All right, all right, all right.
- What's the first step? - Change cars.
- By now this one's been identified. - And get off this main street.
The travel poster was right, "Come to exciting South Africa."
This way. My husband's other car is over here.
Now, this is the key to Blane's flat in Johannesburg. The address is on the tag.
- Blane? - Mr. Van Niekirk, it's his car.
- He's away, you'll be safe. - Are you sure?
No, but I can't think of anything else.
Now, go quickly, and for God's sake, look after yourself.
Home, James.
Exactly. I assume full responsibility.
I beg your pardon, sir. Most urgent.
All roadblocks withdrawn. Yes, at all points. Thank you.
I don't smoke.
Wish I didn't. Can't stop. Tried to.
Did I hear correctly, Horn? You want to withdraw the roadblocks?
Have withdrawn, sir.
You went over my head. I'm district commissioner.
- Yes, it's on the door, sir. - I'll not permit it.
Two of my constables assaulted, seriously injured...
while this white man and the Bantu escape.
Yes, and your fault. Those two idiots of yours made a mess of everything.
Your division was told to go easy on pass checks.
- It could be awkward for you on the report. - Report to whom?
Bureau of State Security.
I insist on a full explanation.
Yes, you've every right to insist on a full explanation, but no right to be given one.
Major Horn, please get off my desk.
Your cigarettes as well.
Now then, you may be seated.
No, I have to be going. Thank you, brigadier.
You see, what we've got here is a matter of security, and the Bureau and I feel...
Well, we just can't give you a high enough clearance.
This never-never land you're fighting to preserve, well, it's waking up...
young people. A whole questioning generation...
unsatisfied with the swill you've been dishing up for 20 years.
You shout "national security" whenever you do anything immoral or illegal.
And damn lucky for you we do.
Three million whites surrounded by 18 million blacks?
Listen, we built this country.
Every town, every factory, every farm, mine and Christian church.
I protect it, and that's the way it's going to stay, because no Zulu...
20 years out of a tree will shove 50 cents in my hand...
and tell me there's a freighter...
waiting to ship me out of the land I built, alrighty?
No, we built.
Don't you love your country?
Yes! But is it the same country?
And both constables were taken to hospital.
One in a serious condition with a broken pelvis and fractured jaw.
Police are searching for a male Bantu and a white thug...
whose identity has not yet been made known.
This ends our news flash.
I don't like traveling with a white thug.
Is it considered bad form...
to throw a handcuffed male Bantu out of a moving car?
- Not in this country, it isn't. - I'm glad to hear it.
How do your hands feel?
- They hurt like hell. - Good.
That means no gangrene.
- Gangrene doesn't hurt? - No, gangrene smells.
Keep moving your fingers.
They always put them on too tight!
On purpose.
Pull over to the next clump of bushes.
- Now? - Yes.
My bladder has not been the same since the electric therapy.
- Electric what? - Therapy.
When they caught me, I had many names they wanted...
so they wired my balls to a storage battery and switched on the current.
I gave them all the names they already had and one they didn't.
Jesus.
That's the one.
All my fingers are numb, I can't undo my zip.
- I beg your pardon? - There's no time to think it over.
Now what?
You know now what.
Take up the slack.
Go!
Show me your hands.
Are you a brave male Bantu?
- Have I got a choice? - Yes, of course you have.
Either the cuffs come off tonight...
or the hands tomorrow.
You are the only judge of how fast and how deep to go.
I suppose I ought to thank you.
It's a pleasure.
From now on you can take care of your own business.
Force my gate.
Break into my shop.
Well...
what was it?
Murder, rape, robbery?
Political.
You'll have to do better than that.
And you, what's your part in this?
Now, you're not gonna believe this, but his lawyer is my girlfriend...
and he was on trial this morning, and I went to take his lawyer to lunch...
but he was found not guilty. So she said:
"Let's all of us go to my office, because there's a bottle of champagne there, and..."
You don't believe this, do you?
I don't know whether to shoot you or call the police.
You'd better shoot me.
I am not going back to Robben Island. I walk out that door free or feet first.
I'm neutral.
Thank you very much.
Just don't tell them it was me that helped you when they catch you.
- I hope you mean "if." - I mean "when." They always do.
Mrs. Van Niekirk, you mustn't blame me for being apprehensive.
I mean, you were boarding an international flight.
Now, who were you planning to visit in Rhodesia? Mr. Keogh?
My aunt.
May I get dressed now?
- Mr. Keogh, he's a mining engineer? - Yes.
- Working in Zambia? - Yes.
- You met him eight days ago? - Yes.
- What was he doing in Capetown? - Was? Has he gone?
Alrighty.
What is he doing in Capetown?
On holiday. Enjoying sun, surf and our colorful folk ways.
Were you carrying any evidence out of the country?
I told you I was not.
- Not carrying or not out of the country? - Neither, and I want this stopped.
I'm not on trial here.
I've been questioned half the night...
and medically examined in a humiliating manner.
It was a routine body search.
I found nothing unusual concealed upon nor within her person.
Doctor...
is it medically possible that this examination may not have been complete?
- Possibly, yes, but I believe that... - Your beliefs are not required, doctor.
If the examination was incomplete, Maj. Horn now authorizes another.
- A more thorough examination. - Thank you, Van.
We're coming into a town, better get on the floor.
It's all right. A salesman and his houseboy on the road, nobody get suspicious.
By traveling together we make each other respectable.
This man in Johannesburg who's supposed to be helping us, who is he?
- I can't tell you that. - Why the hell not?
Because if you are caught they would get it out of you, and that wouldn't do.
He runs our escape route up north to Botswana.
Who's "our"?
- The Black Congress. - The Black Congress?
That sounds like a very small shop with a very large sign.
Aren't they all, in the beginning?
What makes you so sure about this man in Johannesburg?
He owes me a big favor.
When they took me I did not give them his name.
Ten years ago?
He could be killed or jailed by now. You're expecting a lot.
Not expecting, hoping.
But you're not sure?
About as sure as our hiding at Rina's flat.
- Her ex-husband has reason to turn you in. - Or do me in.
She said he's very violent. That's the reason she's divorcing him.
She's not had much luck. First him and now you.
When we get to Johannesburg, what?
Prison grapevine says we're getting people through safely.
As safe as it was when you got caught?
Someone informed. They were waiting. My luck was bad.
But Wilby Xaba got safely to Botswana.
Wilby Xaba. He's the top dog of your bloody radical party, isn't he?
I would phrase it differently, the Black Congress Party.
And Mr. Wilby Xaba is our chairman.
You.
You were the vice chairman.
Shack Twala.
Almighty God, what am I doing here?
Being watched by two highway policemen.
Are you in trouble?
Yes.
Smile.
That's what we are here for.
- You going to Jo'burg? - Yes.
But we're from Capetown.
- Nice and cool down there, eh? - Oh, yes.
- You on holiday? - No, I'm a commercial traveler.
- What do you sell? - Advertising, in radio.
Oh, I like the one for Coca-Cola. My kid knows every word.
Oh, you mean:
That's right.
Yes, we do very well with that one.
- You do? - Yes.
- Does he drive for you? - Yes.
He'll ruin your car. These Kaffirs can't get motors through their head.
- No? - You must take hills in lower gear, boy.
But this car, she is automatic. She has no gears at all.
I mean you put the automatic into I, that's low.
Can you read?
I can read I.
- He'll ruin it. - No, I won't.
No, I won't, sir.
- Peter, clean that back windscreen. - Right, that does it.
Thank you so much. You're very kind.
It's most kind.
Thank you.
Wave at the police helicopter.
Wave at the helicopter.
Eggbeater to Road Runner, anything?
Motorists en route Jo'burg. Out of water.
Okay, and mention yourself in dispatches.
Bugger off.
Same to you, and give me his license number.
Capetown 1-4-foxtrot-3-4-double 2.
Let's go.
He's got it in I.
Talking back to that policeman. You are what is known as a cheeky Kaffir.
That is exactly what I am, Keogh.
For which, please thank the GMS.
The what?
The Gospel Missionary Society.
They sent me to their schools...
instead of Mark and Luke, I discovered Marx and Lenin.
From there I had absolutely no difficulty getting into jail.
Are you a Communist?
Because I read Marx and Lenin?
I also read "Mein Kampf", the Magna Carta and "Winnie-the-Pooh".
Well, what the bloody hell are you, then?
The most feared species in all Africa, a Kaffir who cannot be broken.
That's him.
Looks expendable-like, doesn't he?
They all look that way to me, major.
Van...
probably right.
- What's the matter with you? - Don't ask.
- Want me to check him out? - No, no.
I don't want anyone hurt here on the street.
I want to get close up, see if they stink of fear.
You got a light?
Car lighter conked out.
You're local, are you?
Capetown.
Commercial traveler?
That's right.
What, ladies' underwear?
- Oh, no, nothing like that. - Good.
I'd hate for your Kaffir to handle the merchandise.
Hark at me, spouting off already, I haven't had one brandy wine yet.
You ought to give up smoking.
You're absolutely right. I've tried, can't.
- You want a fag? - No, thank you.
Oh, God...
Mustn't keep you any longer.
Gotta get back to the farm, Van and me.
See what these blacks have been up to.
You know what they're like, these "shvartzer".
Thanks for the light.
- That man you were talking with? - That farmer?
Policeman.
So is the other one standing by the Mercedes, I can tell.
- How? - How.
After 10 years in jail, how.
Then why didn't they arrest us?
I don't know.
Couldn't you perhaps, just this once, be wrong?
No.
They smell of the Truth Room.
There they go, major.
To music.
Have the copter maintain visual contact.
This is Eggbeater, this is Eggbeater. I have visual contact.
They're busy tonight.
In a police state the police are always busy.
That policeman was right, never let a Kaffir drive your car.
You were driving the car.
I was?
Who is in the front?
Okay.
Oh, my God.
It is their calling card, they left it for us in Colesburg.
Why don't they arrest us?
We will find out soon enough.
We must bury him...
and not let the hyenas eat him.
Police?
Get rid of the tire marks. Everybody dance on the tire marks.
This way, this way. Over that side.
Some of you on that side, some on this, all dance on the marks.
Ten years ago, when you were caught...
who knew you were running the border? Wilby and me.
- What about your friend in Johannesburg? - Him too, him too.
And?
And the driver. But none of us stood to gain anything by informing.
- Not even the driver? - Least of all.
Police killed him in the ambush.
- I don't know what to do with you. - I know what to do.
Now, wait a minute. Van, just a minute.
You people are constantly asking for a voice in your own affairs. Right.
I want the chance to give it to you, so you help me in deciding your punishment.
- What shall it be? - I don't know, sir.
You don't know? Well, what would be just punishment...
for a man who shelters fugitives? And denies it to police.
Oh, yes, I'd forgotten that. Thank you, Van.
- Well? - Perhaps a fine, sir.
A fine? Good. How much?
- Fifty rands. - Fifty rand! A traffic violation is 50 rand.
Come on, be logical, Oom Maseko.
- Is your crime the same as a traffic violation? - No, sir.
- Is it worse? - Yes, sir.
Yes. And how much worse? Twice, thrice, four, five?
- Yes, sir. - Yes, five times worse. That's 250 rand.
All right, Van, give him a receipt for 250 rand.
Sir, we have only 65 rands in the village.
Oom Maseko...
should you be whipped with a sjambok? I expect so, sir.
Well, you shan't be. So for God's sake, stop sweating.
Two brutal, insensitive officers from the Security Bureau...
beat a lovely Bantu patriarch? No, thank you very much.
You'd be an overnight martyr.
We've got enough of them as it is.
- Please think, Oom Maseko. - I cannot, sir.
You cannot think? You, the headman?
The wise, bearded, white-haired elder of the village, and you can't think?
My godfather.
You're too old to hunt, you're too old to work in the fields...
and you're too old to father children.
If you can't think...
what in heaven's name are you good for?
I wish all these bleeding-heart liberals could see this...
how futile it is trying to get you people to be responsible.
- Do you understand? - Yes, sir.
- You think he understands? - No.
I fear for my country.
There, Johannesburg. That wasn't so hard, was it?
- That is your man in Johannesburg? - Yes.
- You mean you put my life in the hands of...? - Our lives. You have nothing to worry about.
- He's deeply committed politically. - A politically committed Indian dentist?
That sounds like all the people I can't stand at a cocktail party.
- Is he in your revolution too? - Yes, and we have all colors, even yours.
I think I'd better go up alone, he will only freeze up with you there.
Well, I'll go in here. I wouldn't want to miss this.
- One, please. - Sir, it is in Hindi.
- Oh, good, I was hoping it was. - But, sir, this is a segregated cinema.
For Indians only.
Don't you tell anybody, and I won't.
Have you told your English friend about the diamonds?
He is not a friend! And he does not count so far as we are concerned.
Through your silence, the police have never known of my connection...
with the Black Congress or Wilby's escape.
I appreciate that deeply. I owe you a great deal.
Which makes it all the more difficult to explain that I don't have the diamonds.
Please don't hurt me!
- Mukerjee! - Please, sit down!
Should someone enter, it looks more natural.
That night, 10 years ago...
I knew nothing of the police ambush.
It wasn't until a week later that I learned that Wilby was safe...
you had been arrested and the driver killed.
Open your mouth wider, please.
I was afraid the police would arrest me and perhaps find the diamonds.
I couldn't let that happen. I'm a man of principles, you see.
I said to myself, "Those diamonds belong to the Black Congress."
You must safeguard them for Wilby and for no one else."
Mukerjee, you lied to me.
Rinse, please.
Anyway...
to save the diamonds...
I threw them into a sinkhole.
You stupid...! There are thousands of sinkholes around here, all bottomless!
- But this one isn't, it's only 71 meters. - What?
I've gone metric, you see.
- How deep is that? - 230 feet.
- Two hundred and thirty feet?! - The tissue's nice and healthy.
No decay. And that on a prison diet.
I brush with salt.
It's absolutely remarkable.
I'm glad I satisfy your professional interest. Now, you satisfy mine.
How are we going to recover those diamonds from 230 feet in a sinkhole?
With great difficulty.
Mukerjee...
those diamonds had better be exactly where you say they are.
- I'm sorry I took so long. - Oh, that's all right.
Let me fill you in.
She's from this little village, and her boyfriend has moved from Calcutta...
He's going to help us, but we've got to lay low for a while until he makes connections.
He's going to hide me out.
Now, you go on to Van Niekirk's apartment and I'll reach you there.
That's him! That's the boyfriend from Calcutta.
Oh, Keogh! Oh, I've been frantic.
Really? You could have fooled me.
I didn't know if you or they were gonna come through that door first.
So you took no chances and dressed for both, huh?
Keogh.
Who's "they"?
Bureau of State Security. They questioned me for hours.
Must've given the right answers, or you wouldn't be here.
- Are you trying to quarrel? - No, no.
Just tell me how it is they let you go.
I don't deserve that. I've just flown up to be with you.
- This was for you. - Is that supposed to make me feel bad?
Because it doesn't.
- What did you tell State Security? - Nothing they didn't already know.
I even lied to them, but they didn't seem to care.
Especially the larger man, Horn. Stinks of cigarettes.
Just a minute.
An Afrikaner, suede shoes?
Who else was with him?
Just one other. Small frame, wiry. Smiles.
Yes.
- I've seen him too. - You can't know them.
They've been watching me since Capetown. From police cars, helicopters...
and they haven't picked me up. Now, why, Rina?
Everywhere I go, they're waiting. How are they tracking me?
- You're paranoid. - Am I? What about Shack?
- And Dr. Mukerjee's diamonds? - What diamonds? Who's Dr. Mukerjee?
You don't know, do you?
- You really don't? - No, Keogh.
I have as many questions as you, and no answers.
But until we find out, can't we trust one another?
We can try.
I have two sparkling suggestions to make. One concerns a very large whiskey...
possibly two. Then will you please fill the tub? I think I can use a bubble bath.
Possibly three?
- Keogh. Bath'll be ready in a moment. - Great.
Slip out of your nightdress and keep a head on the bubbles.
Rinse, please.
Persis, I need your help.
- Broke another tooth? - No. The police, they're on their way up.
- They're looking for an escaped fugitive. - What do we have to hide?
- The fugitive! - What?
- He's in my kitchen. - More of your Black Congress idiocy.
Dear Persis, you go and hide him.
I'll look after your patient.
Now you know what pain is, Auntie.
- Who are you? - Never mind who I am...
I know who you are, you black troublemaker!
And what is more, so do the police. They are here now.
Care to discuss it further?
No.
White men standing while you sit on the cheeks of your ass?
Excuse me, doctor!
Still running people across the border?
Careful with your answer, now. Maj. Horn hates a liar.
I've never run anyone across the border, I give you my word.
- The word of a Hindu gentlemen. - Yes!
Give me the list of all the blacks he ran over to Botswana last year.
Wilson Langa, Ibrahaim Mussa, Solomon Nkomo...
Tom Mbindi, Churchill Maneoko, Martin Sadika...
Lambert Ngoto, Simon Gjileto... All right. Okay, Van.
I mean, if Dr. Mukerjee says he didn't run anyone over the border...
then all our evidence at Security's gotta be wrong.
Yes, sir. Mukerjee, I'm glad you're out of politics.
Stick to what you Indians know best, cheating the blacks!
Shack Twala, has he contacted you?
- Me? No, of course not! - Well, if he does...
you must call us.
- Well, will you do that? - Yes, I will! I mean, I must.
- The word of a Hindu gentleman? - Yes, yes, of course.
- Swear on your god, what's his name? - It's Vishnu.
And Mukerjee could swear by the beard of the prophet or the nails of the true cross...
and it wouldn't mean a thing.
Because Mukerjee is a goddamned...
godless, atheist Marxist.
And the only thing that he holds sacred is Che Guevara's foreskin.
All of you, working to bring down the house.
You're a lucky man.
Alrighty.
Well, what do you think? Where's he hiding the Bantu?
Behind the bathtub, or else the supply closet behind the shelves.
Oh, you've got a peasant's face, Keogh. Your bones are arranged all wrong.
And your bones are arranged all right.
All over, and I am about to jump...
all over those beautiful bones.
Randy bastard, aren't you?
Mrs. Van Niekirk, your friend Shack, I'm surprised he's not in the bath.
I mean, he's shared your spoons and your sheets, hasn't he?
Nice...
Afrikaner girl like you.
Now, why should you be in a bathtub with a foreigner instead of your husband?
You tell me why, I'm interested.
I'm interested in seeing your search warrant.
Show her, then.
Where are the diamonds?
Major Horn means the diamonds to finance Wilby Xaba's black revolution.
It's probably pointless...
but I ask you to believe that I know nothing about any diamonds.
I believe you. I believe they told you nothing.
- They don't trust whites, you know. - Oh, really? I wonder why.
No, you don't, Mrs. Van Niekirk. You know exactly why and I know exactly why.
It's history and not our fault.
We're a civilized Christian minority, and we've got to be able to defend ourselves.
Diamonds.
Seven hundred and fifty thousand pounds sterling in clear, uncut diamonds.
Do you know how many Maoist-trained terrorists...
you can arm for three-quarters of a million pounds?
Do you know how many assault rifles, land mines and rockets Wilby can buy?
And do you know that the first they'll kill will be you?
The reformers who are trying to help them...
because that's the way they work.
You let Shack run so that he'd lead you to the diamonds?
Yes. And you, Mr. Keogh, will keep your eyes open and your ears open...
and be working for us. How's that sound?
- Like the filthiest of double crosses. - Exactly.
And with it, you are buying your freedom.
I don't think I can do that.
- I can only die once. - And would you like it to be here?
And now?
All right, all right!
Mr. Keogh, find me those diamonds.
You help me, and true as God...
I guarantee you're on a scheduled airline out of Jan Smuts Airport.
Both of you, into the sunset.
- Alrighty? - And what happens to Shack Twala?
Take him with you. For all the major cares, one less.
Look, without those diamonds, Wilby Xaba and the Black Congress...
are just a bunch of helpless Kaffirs.
Suppose we find the diamonds and head for the border?
Exactly, Mr. Keogh, that is the plan.
- Getting over the border? - No, no, no.
Getting arrested. You'd never get over the border.
Every bridge, every river crossing, every road, staked out.
What happened to our happy ending at the airport?
Getting arrested is your fastest way there.
Look, I'd like to talk to you without your lawyer.
You can't move, but you can listen.
You've just graduated from Dr. Van Heerden's memory course.
You'll never forget this:
Don't try to run away. Don't try to cross us.
He's a quick learner, major. I admire that.
You know, it hurts me to see an intelligent, educated white man...
so against his own people.
Please think about it.
Major, I wasn't going to put that hair dryer in the bathtub.
Yes, you were.
The police came down without Keogh. Why? Aren't they looking for him anymore?
- If not, why not? - Your attorney.
Perhaps she was clever enough to save him.
In exchange for what, me?
Whites can always make a deal amongst themselves, can't they?
They have been known to do so. And just in case...
you put me in touch with our intelligence network.
I have not come all this way to be used.
You used me!
- You never said one word about diamonds. - You made a deal with the police.
You come to quick conclusions because you're never slowed by thought.
So how come you're not in jail?
Maybe you'll answer me. They were in your apartment.
You asked me to trust this man.
If you made a deal, I've got a right to know!
You have a right to a punch!
Oh, for chrissake! Are you both gone mad?
Sit down, shut up and get on with your food!
- You two have to stick together. - That's the same bilge...
you used in Capetown, and look where it got us.
You know, you must extend yourself to Mr. Keogh.
Where else will we find another mining engineer to help us?
Another? Where's the first? I never said I'd help.
He'd sell me out in a flash to his precious Black Congress.
Wouldn't you, my Bantu friend?
When those diamonds are up, I'm expendable.
Is that where they are, down in some mine?
- I'm not at liberty to tell you, my dear. - Political intrigue, revolution.
You're all idiots! The lot of you!
Why can't we simply and logically divide the diamonds and go our separate ways?
London...
a dental office all steel and glass and waxed floors...
where a girl like me has a future. Forget it.
The police have us under intensive surveillance.
I was right, wasn't I? You and Horn, you made a deal.
I had to. He can pick us up any time he chooses.
And he chose the time after we bring up the diamonds?
As we head for the border, yes. That's the plan.
I don't know the details, I'm afraid.
I know one of them. Shooting me while trying to escape.
Then forget the bloody diamonds!
- It's all the same to me! - But not to me.
We have got to have those diamonds.
- Horn will be waiting for us at the border. - Yes.
That is as we expected.
So we have a plan.
But don't ask me what it is. If they twist your wrists...
you'll sing them the whole song. Why, the bloody...
Now, gentlemen, please! I abhor violence.
We will get to this later, I promise you.
Right now we have to bring up those diamonds.
And it's not "we," is it? It's me.
I'm the one putting his neck on the line for your diamonds.
And I intend to hang on to them for a while.
- What's "a while"? - Until we are safely across the border.
- They are my accident insurance. - Against what?
Against being left behind by you and the politically aware Indian dentist here.
All right.
If you can bring up the diamonds.
- Rina can get us out of the country. - Rina?
- In your husband's new airplane. - My husband? You must be crazy.
He'd give you up without a thought.
Not if we armed you with some of the information we have on him.
No, Blane is a dangerous man, and I certainly don't...
He will listen hard to what you have to say.
- What do you mean? - We know things about him...
that had you known, you never would’ve married him.
- Now, you will call him. - Oh, how jolly! A piece of cake.
"Hello, Blane, Rina here. Do be a sport and fly me and my lover..."
and a mixed bag of friends out of the country.
"Oh, by the way, the police are after us, and we're all fugitives. Bye."
I like to think Rina will call, not you. She will handle it differently.
- How? I'd like to bloody know how. - Well, it's like... Like this:
You are an engineer and she is a woman. You each have your own speciality.
It all sounds like great fun, especially the illegal border crossing.
Please, I'm in desperate trouble.
- If you ever loved me... - I still do.
- Good, I was counting on that. - Unfortunately I've made other plans...
for my life, which don't include being shot down...
and or spending the next 25 years in prison.
Therefore, in love or out, I decline.
That's too bad.
Our divorce next month can be civilized or damn messy.
I.e., I've names, dates and addresses of your hash suppliers.
What you consider a social smoke could be turned into a major scandal...
in the Johannesburg papers.
You'd be termed a dope fiend.
Your hunting trips to Mozambique consist of bedroom forays with black girls.
- I thought you were a liberal. - I am, but your father isn't.
He's had you up to here.
Goodbye, allowance. And you'd be out of his will.
- You'd do that to me? - If you refuse to fly us out, yes.
- And if I do, what's in it for me? - Me.
Why didn't you say that in the first place?
This is a model of the sinkhole, built out of dental plaster.
- Is that where they are, the diamonds? - Yes, 71 meters down.
- Do you know about sinkholes? - Only what I've read in books.
They are great bottomless pits which open without warning.
This one is not great or bottomless. I plumbed it myself this afternoon.
What a loss to geology when you chose jail instead.
- Stop it, Keogh. - His plumb line is not the bottom.
It's merely a point where enough rubbish has collected to block the hole.
Any slight disturbance and bang, it's a clear drop, a deathtrap.
You won't get down there with a rope or a rope ladder.
- The only possibility... - Is to move down vertically.
Suspend a man at the very center and then lower him by a winding system.
- You've done your homework. - I've thought of nothing else for 10 years.
That says something about his dentistry.
You have to build a shear-legged tripod...
with its vertex over the center of the hole.
Now, for this you need, at a minimum, 60 feet of heavy steel tubing...
250 feet of nylon rope, heavy steel cord...
250 feet doubled. You need a hell of a lot of hardware.
You're certain our message got off to Wilby?
Oh, yes, have no fear.
I've entrusted it to the fleetest man in our party.
It is heartwarming to work in an atmosphere of mutual trust, boss.
You asked for it, boy.
Let us review the signals:
One tug on the rope means pull up slowly.
Two tugs means stop. Three tugs, emergency.
Give me that lamp.
Take the strain, slowly.
A bit more.
Throw the shovel down.
- Throw the shovel down. - I have thrown the shovel down.
- Okay. - Right.
Hold it!
I found them!
Mukerjee, bring him up!
You are determined to give the diamonds to those black terrorist thugs.
Those black terrorist thugs, as you call them...
are the best and only hope for South Africa.
Yes, and when the black fight the white...
you know who will lose. We Indians.
Oh, for shame, Persis. How parochial.
If the emerging nations of the Third World are to abolish imperialism...
colonialism, racism...
- Where did you get that gun? - Where you left it, in the sterilizer.
And I don't give a tuppenny damn about emerging nation.
I want those diamonds.
And a new life.
I'm deadly serious, Mukerjee.
Pull me up!
- Pull me up! - Mukerjee!
- Keep going! - Just a minute.
Dear Persis.
Don't be a child. Give me that gun. You wouldn't shoot me.
You wouldn't...
Hold it!
- Mukerjee, hold it! - Stop it!
Mukerjee!
- For chrissake, let me down! - Mukerjee!
Down 10 feet!
Mukerjee!
- Tell Mukerjee to lower him. - That will be difficult.
Mukerjee's dead.
- What happened? - This is what happened.
I've just killed Mukerjee.
And I won't hesitate to kill you.
Toss me the diamonds, and you can join Rina.
Don't, and you get flushed like a cigarette butt down the loo.
Shack, don't play the hero with my life!
Throw me the diamonds.
- Is that what we are looking for? - Yes, it is.
Rina should be waiting.
Border police.
Back up.
Bastards ducked out of sight, that's a guilty conscience in my book.
Border police, miss. Stop at once!
Ready, now!
Take over.
Turn around.
Eleven minutes.
- He'll wait. - He won't!
- It's only two kilometers away, let's run. - In 10 minutes?
Come on!
- If he doesn't wait, we're trapped. - Stop talking and run, goddamn it!
There he is. Oh, God, are we gonna make it?
I'll hold him till you get there.
Take your coat off, it'll be easier.
- He's killing the bloody pilot. - I can't run any further.
I'll come back for you.
Gentlemen!
It's halftime.
- Had a change of heart, Van Niekirk? - Just that.
I've been under the radar for 20 minutes now, and that's far too long.
The air force can scramble from Pretoria, shoot us down and get home for breakfast.
Do you wanna make your next statement in soprano?
Pretoria control to Cheetah squadron...
intercept Twin Cessna bandit heading north. Intercept...
- That's us. - Get back low and stay under the radar.
You're insane! The slightest downdraft and we've had it.
Had what? We have nothing to lose, do as he says.
I have been here before, so don't tell us we have crossed the border when we haven't.
Cheeky, ain't I?
Cheetah leader to Cheetah squadron. Cheetah leader to Cheetah squadron.
- Activate scanners and weapons. - Cheetah One, roger.
Those are air force jets. They carry rockets, low-level radar.
If they lock onto us, we're dead.
I hope Wilby got my message, because we are almost home.
We have made it. The Marico River, Botswana.
Tango Romeo, Tango Romeo, acknowledge my signal.
Repeat, acknowledge my signal.
I hope to hell you're listening.
Turn back. Acknowledge.
- He'll shoot us down. - That's what he wants you to think.
He can't tell if you heard him.
We're across the border.
- They wouldn't shoot in foreign airspace. - Why not?
Christ, are you both naive.
Tango Romeo...
we are to port and starboard.
My number two is directly behind you.
You're boxed in.
Follow instructions.
Commence slow climbing, turn to the right.
- "Repeat..." - Let's call his bluff.
You're suicidal. You're all suicidal!
We're trapped.
I have to turn with them. If not, we collide.
Tango Romeo...
maintain present speed.
Maintain present speed.
For your own safety, level out.
Now.
Our safety, what rot.
- What do you mean? - They're worried about their safety.
We're full throttle, but they're down to stalling.
What now?
Blane, do as I tell you.
Drop down fast and go through that slot.
- Go through that pass? It's... - Suicidal, I know. Do it, do it!
Hell.
Tango Romeo, maintain altitude, maintain altitude.
Cheetah leader...
I can't maintain visual contact with bandit.
Breaking formation.
Cheetah squadron, we can't follow. Break formation.
Climb left, climb left. Regroup at 2000.
The airstrip is over to the right. Pull up and you'll see it.
And get us on it as fast as you can.
Nice flying, Blane.
I do nice work, remember?
You told me so yourself yesterday afternoon.
Bastard.
Has she called you Blane yet...
in bed?
No.
But she has called me Harry once or twice.
Louis, she called me that.
Oh, and she called me Bruce too.
These friends of yours, Van Niekirk?
Don't expect me to wish you luck.
I don't need it.
I've got Rina.
What have you got?
Hands up.
And turn around slowly.
Wilby.
This is my friend, Mrs. Van Niekirk.
And this is Mr. Keogh.
- You are most welcome. - Thank you.
We thank you for coming to help us.
That's all right.
Morning...
all.
Shouldn't you shoot the witnesses as well?
What?
Twenty years out of the trees and they're to be witnesses?
Oh, I don't think so.
And now, true as God...
I keep my word as you kept yours.
You delivered Wilby to us as agreed...
and it was Wilby we were after from the start.
So, so, so. Mr. Keogh, Mrs. Van Niekirk...
and Vice Chairman Twala...
you're free.
Off you go.
But keep this thought.
Your friends may call you traitor.
But I call you patriot.
Bye-bye.
The diamonds!
The diamonds and what they represent.
Without them, Wilby is an old man in a wrinkled suit.
So he is.
Give them to me.
Let him go.
No, no, no.
Wilby has to stand trial in South Africa.
For all the world to see.
Fair and legal.
For incitement of treason...
conspiracy to commit sabotage...
responsibility for armed incursions...
with intent to commit murder.
The diamonds.
For the ears.
For the fingers.
Oh, man, you dumb "shvartzer".
For the nose.
Get Wilby on board.
Don't worry about those diamonds.
They're not real, they're paste.
Take him away.
So true as God...
they're paste.
Good grief, the real ones we brought up 10 years ago.
One hour after Mukerjee threw them down.
Poor old Mukerjee.
I'm gonna miss him.
A sad loss.
You, the plodding, predictable engineer...
you went by slide rule and plan. Mine.
And you, the sooty intellectual...
I stuck a key in your black bottom, wound it up a bit, and like on rails...
you led us right to Wilby.
You're lucky I'm not a Frenchman, or by God, I'd kiss both your cheeks.
Alrighty-tighty, let's go.
Let's go.
Let's go!
Don't shoot, you'll flip us over.
Well, get us to a higher altitude. They'll drop off.
Their weight’s pulling us down.
Get us the hell out of here.
If he dies...
every black man in Africa will join the Congress.
And you will be remembered as Horn...
the stupid bungler who made Wilby Xaba a martyr.
They'll drive the whites into the sea.
Alive...
and without the diamonds...
what is he?
He's just another...
Just another helpless Kaffir.
Thank you, Mr. Keogh.
What am I gonna do without you?
Well, well.
My government will have me out of here in six weeks.
It's called prisoner exchange.
And I will be back.
You know...
I really believe you will.
Oh, I will.
Now you understand.
Rina?
I think I'm gonna need a lawyer.