The Avengers

BAILEY: We're not yet open for business, I'm afraid.

STEED: Shame. I was recommended. By a friend.

BAILEY: Really?

STEED: Sir August Merryweather? I was looking for something relaxing. Say, a Tuscan hillside in June?

BAILEY: Normally, we'd be eager to oblige --

STEED: Seriously?

BAILEY: Of course. Natural weather delivered to your door on demand. Down your phoneline. For limited periods.

STEED: You don't say. How real does it feel?

BAILEY: As real as you wish. Hot or cold. Humid or dry. Anything you like. Within reason.

STEED: There are limits?

BAILEY: The technology is brand new. Soon it will be more powerful. We anticipate a huge demand. Leave us your number. We'll be in touch.

STEED: No need. I'll call again.

EMMA: Would that I could say the Same.

DR. DARLING: Ah, but you haven't see the real me. Watch closely ...

DR. DARLING: He said if it vanished, he'd know it was ... you who betrayed him. He took a huge risk. The ultimate test.

EMMA: So I'm still ...

EMMA: How long have I been here?

DR. DARLING: Three days.

DR. DARLING: Nature ...

EMMA: ... preserve...

DR. DARLING: Secret ...

EMMA: ... love...

DR. DARLING: Hope...

EMMA: ... love ...

DR. DARLING: Fear ...

EMMA: ... love ...

DR. DARLING: Peter ...

DR. DARLING: Flower ...

EMMA: ... power ...

EMMA: Knight ...

DR. DARLING: Black...

EMMA: ... death ...

DR. DARLING: Love...

EMMA: ... death ...

DR. DARLING: I want you to say the first thing that comes into your head when I say these words. Do you understand ... ? Blue ...

EMMA: ... bottle ...

DR. DARLING: Red ...

EMMA: ... head ...

SIR AUGUST: Mrs. Peel ... Come quickly. Brolly's been betrayed! I'll tell you everything ... The weather's getting worse and worse ... they're after me ... coming for me ... come quickly!

EMMA: Sir August...? What now?

SIR AUGUST: Ah, beautiful. Just as he promised.

EMMA: Promised? Who promised?

SIR AUGUST: There, look!

SIR AUGUST: You

EMMA: Have we met?

SIR AUGUST: You mean you don't recall??

EMMA: I so agree. How did you acquire a taste for it?

SIR AUGUST: Out in India. So character-forming for the British. Not the heat. Good Lord, no. The rain, dash it. A good monsoon. Fifteen inches overnight. A whole week of lovely rain. I remember one summer in Jaipur ...

EMMA: I've come to apply for membership in Brolly --

SIR AUGUST: You don't get rain like you used to in England. A good shower that's the ticket. Stiffens resolve, puckers the spirit, quells the namby-pamby in a man.

PORTER: You are female?

EMMA: As you see.

PORTER: Then you can't come in.

EMMA: I have an appointment.

PORTER: No women. Not in Boodles. Not since 1922.

EMMA: Really -- what happened in 1922?

PORTER: May I help you, madam ...

EMMA: Mr. John Steed, please.

PORTER: I'm afraid that's impossible.

EMMA: Impossible?

VOICE: Congratulations, Mrs. Peel. You have been a worthy opponent. You have tracked us down. You are within an ace of winning.

EMMA: This isn't a game.

VOICE: Quite right, but we still make the rules.

EMMA: Rules are made to be broken.

VOICE: People, too.

EMMA: Then who wins?

VOICE: You and I. Together. But first you must confront your greatest enemy. Who could that be, Mrs. Peel? The answer is obvious ...

EMMA: Your voice -- it's so familiar ...

VOICE: We have met ...

EMMA: Quite a collection.

VOICE: If nature gives a man a collector's mind, it doesn't matter what he collects. Butterflies. Old China. Penny farthings. A true collector grows more obsessive as the years pass.

EMMA: Sir August ... ? Sir August ... ?

VOICE: Eh? In here!

MOTHER: Ahem. As I was saying, perhaps another macaroon ...

EMMA: Thank you, Steed.

MOTHER: About your next assignment, Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: Next assignment?

MOTHER: This is an official matter, Mrs. Peel. No need to take it personally. Where are you going?

EMMA: To find out who killed my husband.

MOTHER: The doors and walls are monitored, Mrs. Peel. This is a very secure establishment.

EMMA: So am I.

EMMA: Who?

MOTHER: Quite frankly ... it could have been you.

MOTHER: Peter Peel was a first class agent. A senior operative. 'X' department Special operations. He was engaged in top secret research. Top priority. Government approved.

EMMA: The Institute ... the funding ...

MOTHER: A cover ... for us. I'm sorry...

EMMA: What are you trying to do to me?

MOTHER: We want to help...!

EMMA: I thought I was a widow. My husband ... the only man I ever loved ... is dead. For the rest of my life I have to live with that.

MOTHER: The death of Peter Peel was a great loss. To us all ...

EMMA: To you ... ?

EMMA: I resign.

MOTHER: You need treatment, Mrs. Peel. You can't resign.

EMMA: Watch me.

MOTHER: London. The World Council of Ministers meets soon on global defence. If you can control the weather, you control the world.

EMMA: After the cold war ...

MOTHER: Would it be possible to use it for military purposes?

EMMA: Directed by laser. Bounced by satellite. Quite possible.

MOTHER: Welcome to mobile H.Q. Weather's turning quite nasty. Sir August was blown to smithereens. Along with half of Banffshire. The Ministry's worried.

EMMA: He tried to warn us ...

MOTHER: Father will be your controller. Steed here will show you the ropes.

EMMA: Ropes?

EMMA: How curious ...

MOTHER: Something strange is happening. And whoever knows about it doesn't want us to find out.

MOTHER: My number two. Special assignments. She's --

EMMA: Let me guess -- 'Father'?

MOTHER: Close. We're so hush-hush, even we know nothing about it. Now let's see, there's coconut cake, date and walnut; I recommend the rum baba ...

EMMA: Hmmm ...

MOTHER: Looks like rain, Steed...

VALENTINE: The missing piece of the jigsaw. I tried to get you to give it to me as Peter; I tried to steal it from you as Dr. Darling. As myself I'll be a bit less subtle. With this ring my plan will be complete.

EMMA: How Wagnerian ... Do you mean to say you've waited all these years because you couldn't create a chip on your own? That would have amused Peter.

VALENTINE: Speaking of Peter, there's more good news: You won't even have to change your last name. You'll always be Mrs. Peel.

EMMA: What are my choices?

VALENTINE: Choices?

EMMA: I'll never marry you.

EMMA: Such as?

VALENTINE: Destruction of their local weather systems. I can zap a thousand Chernobyls into the air.

EMMA: The result would be ...

VALENTINE: Chaos. Transport paralysis. Crop failure. Economic disaster. Frostbite or sunburn ... on a massive scale. You've seen a few samples...

EMMA: Then what's stopping you?

VALENTINE: One very small thing. A diamond 'cyclone' chip. A thousand times more information on a fraction of the size. If I possess that, my powers would be unlimited. My dear half-brother was developing it. But he suspected sabotage. He gave the chip to ... you, 'Mrs.' Peel. I want you. But also your ring.

VALENTINE: That's better. I say, isn't this where you came in? It's impenetrable, by the way ...

EMMA: You're mad.

VALENTINE: Entirely. On the other hand Mad people get things done. Let me show you --

VALENTINE: You know, I believe she's actually jealous.

EMMA: Valentine, listen to me ...

VALENTINE: Right, bridesmaid. Now what have I left out? Oh, yes, I know: the ring.

EMMA: Ring?

VALENTINE: Think of this as your second wedding feast ...

EMMA: I'm already married ...

VALENTINE: Come, come, you're a widow -- a most attractive widow. Now I think of it, we'll need a bridesmaid. Here.

VALENTINE: A slight miscalculation -- my face was burned beyond recognition. Fortunately my research into plastics came in handy ...

EMMA: Dr. Darling, Peter ... all you ...

VALENTINE: An unholy trinity ...

EMMA: You killed my husband.

VALENTINE: For starters. Of course I had to kill the Teddy Bears, as well ...

EMMA: Too many cooks --

VALENTINE: Spoil the majority shareholders. In Wonderland Weather. I planned everything, even the Ministry recruiting you ...

EMMA: But I found you. All the clues led me here ...

VALENTINE: Of course. I planned that, too.

EMMA: But -- why?

VALENTINE: You disappoint me, Emma. Can't you guess? For you. It was all for you ...

EMMA: 'Our revels now are ended.'

VALENTINE: Oh, no, Emma. They've only just begun ...

EMMA: You.

VALENTINE: Darling Emma -- yes, we: the true genius behind the Prospero Project ...

VALENTINE: Good luck ... Peter ... Emma.

EMMA: Thanks, Valentine ...

EMMA: Ah ... sun tan lotion. Any shops nearby?

STEED: Must be. Trubshaw's busy. I'll send Mother ...

STEED: Our chaperon.

EMMA: Pity your mother came, too ...

EMMA: I don't recall Siberia being this warm, Steed.

STEED: It's the latest thing, Mrs. Peel.

EMMA: Our little paradise -- just made for two?

STEED: Not quite.

STEED: 'The owl and the pussycat went to sea -'

EMMA: '... in a beautiful pea green boat...'

STEED: A fine night, Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: Still a bit chilly ...

STEED: English weather. You know, after all we've been through, I should say we deserve a long holiday ...

EMMA: Have you any place in mind?

STEED: As a matter of fact I have ...

STEED: Mrs. Peel?

EMMA: What kept you?

STEED: The plot. Hello, we must be going ...

STEED: I'll be back ...

EMMA: Where are you going?

STEED: Laying in supplies, Mrs. Peel weather may get very nasty and I've no umbrella ...

EMMA: You needn't bother. I can't drag you further into this. After all, I am still the chief suspect.

STEED: No bother. Mother and Father think I've joined you. I might as well.

EMMA: But --

STEED: Oh, and by the way, I think it's about time you got rid of that chip on your shoulder.

EMMA: If you'd been through what I have, you wouldn't --

STEED: Bad news. Father's looking for you. Where are those bloody ministers?

EMMA: Have a look at this.

STEED: They're playing your song, Mrs. Peel.

EMMA: 'The Merry Widow?' I might have known. Where's the reception?

EMMA: Trubshaw again? What now?

STEED: Snuff. I must insist you try some.

EMMA: What is it?

STEED: Limpet bomb. Small, very compact. From Trubshaw's.

EMMA: When all this is over, we simply must get you out of that suit.

STEED: You first.

EMMA: Shall we?

STEED: What's that you're wearing?

EMMA: It's called Black Leather.

STEED: Intoxicating. Here, have one of these.

STEED: There's a reception this evening. Colonel Jones thinks it advisable we attend.

EMMA: Have we been invited?

STEED: We must hurry, Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: Hurry? What for? I'm just now --

STEED: You didn't tell her?

EMMA: Aren't you coming?

STEED: I'll catch you up. Don't worry; he's expecting you.

STEED: His name's Jones. 'Invisible' Jones.

EMMA: Why's he called 'Invisible'?

STEED: You'll find out.

STEED: Very well. I have a friend who might be of assistance. He's at the Ministry. We'd better be careful.

EMMA: I'm a wanted woman, I know ...

STEED: Drat. Someone wants to implicate you in this affair, Mrs. Peel. Any idea who?

EMMA: No idea who. No idea why ...

STEED: Teddy bears, cuckoo clocks, toys All children's things ...

EMMA: ... Or grown-ups, who still like to be children.

STEED: Quite. Any childhood friends? Enemies?

EMMA: Not to speak of. Peter and I were both loners. There was nobody.

STEED: I told Mother I took care of you.

EMMA: You lied.

STEED: I equivocated. But you're not their big worry at present. It's Dr. Darling: he's disappeared ...

EMMA: No, after you.

STEED: You don't trust me?

EMMA: As far as you trust me.

EMMA: But you did suspect me.

STEED: Not for a moment.

EMMA: You're playing games.

STEED: Aren't we all, Mrs. Peel?

EMMA: I thought you played by the rules.

STEED: I thought you didn't.

EMMA: I'm playing to win.

STEED: Winning isn't everything.

EMMA: Please don't tell me it's how you play the game.

STEED: After you -- Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: Mmm ... what are you doing?

STEED: Keeping a stiff upper lip?

EMMA: Is that all?

EMMA: And do you trust me?

STEED: I could be convinced, if ... I knew who poisoned me in the maze. That kiss ...

EMMA: It wasn't me; you have my word.

EMMA: Yes ... ?

STEED: ... when I don't. It comes down to one thing, Mrs. Peel. Trust.

EMMA: I could save you the trouble.

STEED: No trouble.

EMMA: Because you always obey orders ...

STEED: Always. Except ...

EMMA: You followed me.

STEED: Orders.

EMMA: To kill me?

STEED: Nothing personal.

EMMA: Where am I?

STEED: The Winslow Home for Retired Lepidoptorists. I'm so sorry I struck you, Mrs. Peel. Please forgive me. I thought you were someone else ...

EMMA: Was I?

STEED: I expect that's for you to know and me to find out ...

EMMA: It was Peter -- I saw him ...

EMMA: Steed ... !

STEED: Mrs. Peel ... ?

EMMA: This must be the last straw.

STEED: Here's the one that broke the camel's back.

EMMA: Someone didn't want us to get to the party.

STEED: I expect we'll have to gatecrash.

STEED: What, Lady Disdain? Are you yet breathing?

EMMA: Barely.

STEED: You will let me know if you find that queen who's in need of protection, won't you?

STEED: Do you always drive this fast?

EMMA: Have I trespassed on a male prerogative? We're being followed. I saw him at Trubshaw's ...

EMMA: Is that what you think?

STEED: Oh, well ... Just my type, Mrs. Peel.

EMMA: Three agents killed by bad weather...

STEED: ... And by you, Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: Then a mad millionaire. Head of a secret defense establishment. A group of eccentrics obsessed by weather ...

STEED: ... And by you, Mrs. Peel. Everything points to you. No sisters? No undiscovered twin?

EMMA: Not that I know of. Explanation?

STEED: According to Dr. Darling, you're a psychopathic personality with schizophrenic delusions, suffering from recurring amnesia based on traumatic repression, leading to outbursts of anti-social and violent behavior. Q.E.D.

EMMA: Not quite. This is my field.

STEED: Is there anything that isn't?

EMMA: The Prospero Project was started by my husband. It was an early attempt to solve the problems of global warming. In theory, climate engineering is entirely feasible. We thought of injecting a chemical cocktail into the atmosphere by laser and satellite. A 'quick fix'...

STEED: Filling in mother nature's blind spots ... ?

EMMA: Exactly. There'd been earlier attempts to pump carbon dioxide into deep sea. Propane gas mostly. In small quantities it captures chlorine. Protects the ozone layer. But it proved impractical. Too bulky ...

STEED: But if someone miniaturized the process...

EMMA: That's what we were working on.

STEED: Sounds as if someone's hijacked your research.

EMMA: But

STEED: Don't bother. Here's a bus ...

STEED: For you, Mrs. Peel.

EMMA: Thanks ... I see what you mean about letting me do the risking ... Hello?

STEED: What on earth?

EMMA: Any ideas?

STEED: Well, he was a fellow of the Royal Zoological Society ...

EMMA: Is that written in his shoe?

STEED: Common knowledge, Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: She had this in her mouth. There, there...

STEED: Elementary, Mrs. Peel. Trubshaw isn't the only shoemaker still practicing his trade ...

EMMA: Very good, Steed ...

STEED: Colonel Crabtree. International Satellite Systems. Formerly of the Ministry.

EMMA: How on earth can you tell?

STEED: I must say, you look more your old self --

EMMA: You mean my other self ...

STEED: Either way ... may I ask: why you dress in that fashion?

EMMA: I should have thought that was obvious ... I'm in mourning.

STEED: An invitation. To a 'formal picnic'...?

EMMA: Did you say formal? I must dress.

EMMA: Mother and Dr. Darling have me under observation. They think I tried to kill you.

STEED: Why should they think that?

EMMA: You told them. You said I arrived on a camel, shot you four times. Left you for dead.

STEED: Frankly that's how I remember it.

EMMA: But that's absurd. I may not be over-fond of you, Steed, but it's not my style.

STEED: Perhaps your memory plays tricks, Mrs. Peel.

EMMA: That's possible. Sir August was convinced he'd met me before. But I'd never met him. Another odd thing. When it rained, he said it was just as someone had promised.

STEED: Did he say who?

EMMA: No. But he must know. Incidentally, my double left you with this.

STEED: Ah, Brenda ... Mrs. Peel?

EMMA: You should be dead. How do you feel?

STEED: Strange.

EMMA: You were very lucky. Four shots to the heart. I found you after I slipped away from Sir August. Mother brought you here. Not me you should thank.

STEED: I wasn't about to.

EMMA: I mean your man Trubshaw. Your bullet-proof waistcoat. I thought you were just overdressed.

STEED: I might say the same.

EMMA: So ... I distract him while you snoop around? How?

STEED: Small talk. Try the weather.

STEED: Not so much eccentric. More barking mad. He has a wife called June. And a daughter somewhere -- Julie.

EMMA: June, July ... August?

STEED: The family does seem to be somewhat meteorologically inclined.

EMMA: Any other vices?

STEED: All of a piece, really. A fanatical weatherman. Chairman of BROLLY. British Royal Organisation For Lasting Liquid Years. Thinks British weather has been tampered with by ... aliens.

STEED: According to Mother, Sir August owns half of the Highlands. A millionaire. Former head of Special Projects at the Ministry. Now ...

EMMA: An eccentric recluse?

EMMA: Sir August Merryweather ... why are we seeing him first?

STEED: As per mother's instructions.

EMMA: Do we always follow Mother's instructions?

STEED: For a man in my position --

EMMA: Just what is your position, if you don't mind my asking. How did a stuffed shirt like you get into this line of work?

STEED: They call me in when they've reached a dead end. Freelance. Like yourself.

EMMA: I have no choice. Why should you risk your life?

STEED: After our fencing match, I was rather hoping you would do the risking. More tea?

EMMA: No thanks.

STEED: I meant me.

EMMA: But why? What's the point?

STEED: A Gentleman has to have a code. This is part of mine. A uniform. Think of it as my suit of shining armor.

EMMA: And I suppose you're the knight.

STEED: The most unpredictable piece on the board. And always ready to protect his queen.

EMMA: That's predictable. When I find a queen in need of protection I'll let you know.

EMMA: You know what I mean. This car -- and you. Nobody walks around like that. Milk?

STEED: Not all Tradition is bad, Mrs. Peel. No thank you.

EMMA: That place is so absurd, so out of date ...

STEED: Do you really think so?

EMMA: You can but I wish you wouldn't ...

STEED: Thank you, Trubshaw ...

EMMA: Steed, we really must be --

STEED: Ahh. Perfect fit. The luxury of a hand-made shoe. As unique as a face or a fingerprint. Or should I say DNA?

EMMA: I thought we were on our way.

STEED: Oh, absolutely, but Trubshaw's a man worth meeting. No point setting out half shod.

EMMA: Or half cocked.

EMMA: Do you?

STEED: Yes indeed. I need protection.

EMMA: My father always wanted a boy.

STEED: Really? I fail to see the connection.

EMMA: I had a feeling you would. Touche!

STEED: Ah ... From Trubshaw's. My shoemaker.

EMMA: A kipper. Or a red herring? What were they investigating?

STEED: ... Showers followed by sunny periods.

EMMA: We're not here to talk about the weather, surely.

STEED: I was about to throw in the towel.

EMMA: I had a spot of bother at the door.

STEED: I shouldn't wonder. Not a woman inside Boodles since --

EMMA: 1922. Why the kippers?

STEED: Red herring would have been too obvious, don't you think?

EMMA: So what was all this -- some sort of test?

STEED: Congratulations, you've penetrated a bastion of male privilege. I guessed you weren't a stickler for Tradition, doctor.

EMMA: Whereas you are.

STEED: Dyed in the wool. But I can admire someone who doesn't play by the rules.

EMMA: Rules are made to be broken.

STEED: Not by me. Play by the rules, Doctor, or the game is nothing.

EMMA: And just what is the game?

STEED: I say, this is all terribly formal. Must I go an calling you Dr. Peel?

EMMA: Under the circumstances, you may call me Mrs. Peel.

STEED: Much better.

EMMA: And now that we've settled the matter of honorifics, will you kindly explain why you wished me to meet you?

STEED: I didn't. Mother did.

EMMA: Mother?

STEED: Doctor Peel, I presume?

EMMA: And you must be Steed. Please don't get up.

FATHER: Emma in Wonderland. Welcome, Mrs. Peel. We've been expecting you. We hope you'll enjoy your stay with us. Decontamination is almost complete.

EMMA: Decontamination -- ?

FATHER: And you've a new wardrobe. He does want you to look attractive. He tells me you're very beautiful.

EMMA: You don't believe him?

FATHER: It's Mother you have to convince. He's very agitated. Wait here.

EMMA: Where's Mother?

FATHER: Mobile HQ. In a blue funk. Can't take chances. I'm looking after things while he's hiding out ...

FATHER: Think of it as special assignment, Mrs. Peel. With a twist. You're our chief suspect.

EMMA: You're saying I have no choice.

FATHER: Your mission is simple. Find out how and why these agents died.

EMMA: I'm no spy -- where do I fit in?

INVISIBLE JONES: Privately owned by ...

EMMA: Let me guess: Wonderland Weather.

INVISIBLE JONES: Very good, Mrs. Peel ...

EMMA: I shall need a small plane.

INVISIBLE JONES: You're not venturing alone, surely.

EMMA: I'm going to find out who killed my husband. Will you take these documents to Steed?

INVISIBLE JONES: 'X' marks the spot. The shoes were delivered to ... an island in Hyde Park. Surrounded by the Serpentine. On the site of a former Ministry installation...

EMMA: ... and now?

INVISIBLE JONES: Under the circumstances Mother didn't see fit, but I think I can get you in ...

EMMA: Well, I can't possibly go like this.

INVISIBLE JONES: I was getting to it.

EMMA: Getting to what?

INVISIBLE JONES: The World Council of Ministers meets tomorrow to convene the new global defense initiative --

EMMA: I fail to see --

INVISIBLE JONES: Now let's see ... Eton, Cambridge ... research into robotics and plastics. Overtaken by Peter's work on the physics of climate change ...

EMMA: I know all this.

INVISIBLE JONES: Do you also know that during your final experiment, your halfbrother- in-law was under surveillance?

EMMA: Surveillance? By whom?

INVISIBLE JONES: Father. She gave him an 'all clear' after a security test by Dr. Darling.

EMMA: Who's now vanished.

INVISIBLE JONES: Makes two of us.

EMMA: Are you suggesting that Dr. Darling and Valentine were somehow in this together? But that's absurd.

INVISIBLE JONES: Ah, here we are. Steed asked me to play a hunch: Valentine Peel.

EMMA: Peter's brother? But --

INVISIBLE JONES: Half-brother to be precise.

INVISIBLE JONES: Talk to the pipe, Mrs. Peel. That usually helps. Don't worry about me being invisible. Other than that I'm perfectly normal.

EMMA: I see.

INVISIBLE JONES: Or rather, you don't. Learnt the tricks in camouflage. Till this accident made a prang of things. How can I help you, Mrs. Peel?

FATHER: Mother betrayed me. She was going to replace me with a younger Father. Errand boy that's all I was. 'Find Steed...'

STEED: Well, you found me. Have a sniff of this, why don't you? Careful, the scent can be overpowering ...

FATHER: Steed

STEED: How did you guess?

FATHER: You reek of Mrs. Peel's Black Leather ...

STEED: It was you who gave Valentine Peel his security clearance ... you're the mole who betrayed the Ministry.

STEED: Oh, hello ...

FATHER: We want Mrs. Peel.

STEED: Dead, I'm afraid.

STEED: We know one thing. That suspect was not Mrs. Peel.

FATHER: So you say ...

FATHER: A series of bizarre shifts in local weather patterns ...

STEED: Global warming?

FATHER: Jungle plants in the Arctic? A lush English village transformed overnight into African scrubland? Blizzards in summer?

STEED: I was hoping you could tell me.

MOTHER: You're getting yourself into terrible trouble, my son. Weather's turning very nasty -- and so am I.

STEED: I'm going to follow up on a hunch of my own. If I'm right, Mrs. Peel is innocent and you have a mole.

MOTHER: Where?

STEED: In your operation.

MOTHER: I'm warning you for the last time, Steed: whoever's behind all this, looks like Mrs. Peel, walks like Mrs. Peel and kills like Mrs. Peel.

MOTHER: Pity. I was growing fond of Mrs. Peel. Unfortunately --

STEED: Guilty until proven innocent?

MOTHER: Mother and Father know best.

STEED: You're accusing Mrs. Peel of killing her own husband?

MOTHER: Her husband suspected someone very close to the operation. On the day he died, he was setting a test. To prove to himself -- to us that his wife was beyond suspicion. He had to be certain. He said he was going to give Mrs. Peel something ...

MOTHER: This man -- did you see him?

STEED: No. Her husband, she says. Alice tried to warn us. A trap. Tell Mother beware. Tell Father That's all.

STEED: We had a lead to Wonderland Weather but we got there too late. Someone tipped them off ...

MOTHER: Too late anyway. Today's escapade was only for starters. This is no ordinary weather. It's manmade. A kind of weather bomb.

STEED: Impossible.

MOTHER: Still doesn't. Better safe than sorry. She was in a dangerous game, Steed. High stakes. She may prove to be a risk. If she is, there's only one solution. Termination.

STEED: Anyone particular in mind?

MOTHER: You.

MOTHER: Something went wrong. System malfunction. Explosion. Mrs. Peel had a narrow escape. Suspected sabotage. Nothing proven. File still open.

STEED: How come you took so much interest in her, Dr. Darling?

STEED: Think she really killed those agents?

MOTHER: She may not know. Theory goes she may be very ill.

STEED: Amnesia?

MOTHER: Possibly. Split personality ...

STEED: Insane ... ?

MOTHER: Who knows? If Dr. Darling is right, you should watch out.

STEED: Why?

MOTHER: She may try to kill you.

MOTHER: Your research into climate engineering was state-of-the-art. Your experiments could have revolutionized our knowledge of global warming -- had they succeeded. We need your expertise.

STEED: Perhaps I'd better start calling you doctor again, Mrs. Peel --

MOTHER: Weather's turning nasty.

STEED: You didn't come to talk about the weather, surely.

MOTHER: Oh yes I did. I want you to meet somebody. I expect you'll like her.

STEED: Mother. I thought you were burglars.

MOTHER: Brenda and I thought we'd drop in.

STEED: Wonderland Weather Ltd.

OLD LADY: This way ...

OLD LADY: You with Mother or Father?

STEED: Both, actually.

OLD LADY: Good. Glad to see they're together at last. They don't get along. Promotion. Top job. Most unfair. Quite a fuss at the Ministry.

STEED: You don't say. Like looking for a needle in a ...

OLD LADY: Cocky little bastard. I hope he was a baddy.

STEED: I feel sure of it.

OLD LADY: I'm Alice. Mother said you'd be on your way. Mrs. Peel with you?

STEED: She was ...

OLD LADY: Are you alright, young man?

STEED: I think so, thank you so much ...

SIR AUGUST: Mrs. Peel -- ?

VOICE: Ask not for whom the telephone rings ...

SIR AUGUST: No, please! I beg you ...

VOICE: Walk over to the window ...

SIR AUGUST: Let it be rain, please let it be --

VOICE: Stay by the window. By the window.

STEED: I think she really likes you ... Where's Mrs. Peel?

VALENTINE: Ugh ...

VALENTINE: Aren't you forgetting about something?

STEED: You are, and it's behind you.

VALENTINE: Come, come. You don't really expect me to fall for --

VALENTINE: You said ... one shot.

STEED: Did I? My mistake.

STEED: One shot -- for emergencies.

VALENTINE: That's not playing by the rules.

STEED: Rules are made to be broken.

VALENTINE: If you say so.

STEED: I do.

STEED: Bang-bang ... you're dead.

VALENTINE: You wish.

VALENTINE: You're better than I expected.

STEED: I was at Harrow ...

VALENTINE: But did they teach you this?

VALENTINE: John Steed.

STEED: Valentine Peel. I see you've gone back to using your original face.

VALENTINE: The last one you'll ever see.

STEED: Perish the thought.