OK, boys.
Take him.
Damien!
Damien, did you catch one?
The hounds didn't leave too many souvenirs, but...
I saved some of the blood.
Can you blood me? Does it count?
It does with me.
Disciples of the watch,
I stand before you
in the name of the one true god,
who was cast out from heaven but is alive
in me.
Do you hear me?
We hear and obey. We hear and obey.
I now command you
to seek out and destroy the Nazarene child.
Slay the Nazarene,
and I shall reign for ever.
Fail,
and I perish.
Slay the Nazarene,
and you, my disciples,
shall truly inherit this earth.
Fail,
and you will perish without trace.
Slay the Nazarene,
and you will know the violent raptures of my father's kingdom.
Fail,
and you will be condemned to a numbing eternity
in the flaccid bosom of Christ.
Do you hear me?
We hear and obey.
Disciples of the watch,
there must be no delay.
Slay the Nazarene,
and the victory will be ours,
now... and for ever more.
Do you hear me?
We hear. We hear.
We're going for a walk now, aren't we?
With Auntie Carol, hey?
- Barbara! - Hi. I'll be with you in just a minute.
There you go. All wrapped up.
- Harvey! - Yeah?
I'm just going shopping with Carol. I'm gonna take Junior with me, OK?
Listen, don't forget to pick up my stuff from the cleaner's.
- No, I won't. I'll see you later. - Bye.
Peterson? Harvey Dean.
I said "I'm not paying you that much. You've only been here for two hours."
- What do you expect me to say? - You've got such a nerve.
The Brookman family at 23 Ormsby Road,
Sefton Park, Liverpool.
Listen, Peterson, I don't give a shit how you feel about this! Just do the job!
OK.
Now... Sefton Park, Liverpool.
And the boy's name is Christopher.
Kirkby Towers.
Kirkby 14.
Boy's name is Alexander David.
OK?
By Tuesday night.
Right.
Blake? Dean.
Why don't you and Harvey come over for a meal?
Yeah. OK. That's nice.
I'll call you later. Bye.
We'll soon be home and you can have something nice to eat. Are you hungry?
Who's a good boy, then?
Can you hear me?
No!
- Name this child... - Alexander David.
I baptise you Alexander David,
in the name of the Father and of the Son
and of the Holy Spirit.
We receive this child into the congregation of Christ's flock,
and sign him with the sign of the cross.
Morning, missis. We've come to do our good deed for the day.
We're devoting the first part of our programme
to a disturbing phenomenon that's been puzzling both doctors and police this week.
The mysterious deaths of numbers of babies in the kind of circumstances
that coroners are fond of terming "misadventure".
At the turn of the century, the infant mortality rate stoodata staggering 34per cent.
In 1945 it dropped to 16 per cent.
And nowadays it's been cutback to under two per cent. That is, until last week.
In Greater London, 17 babies have died in the last seven days,
with a further 14 deaths reported from Glasgow, Birmingham, Manchester,
Leeds and Liverpool. These may not sound unduly high figures,
but nationwide they represent a chilling 15 to 20 per cent increase
- in the mortality rate. - Harvey...
- Details are still sketchy at the moment. - It's just a coincidence, that's all.
...except one - in every case the victim has been a baby boy.
To throw further light on the subject, I have with me Dr Richard Philmore
from the Ministry of Health and Social Security.
- Tell me, what explanation do you have? - Barbara?
It's too soon for us to make any statement,
but l�d like to correct you on a point that you just made.
It really is quite inaccurate to speak of a 20 per centrise
in the infant mortality rate index.
Our statistics are based on annual averages and not on weekly fluctuations.
But you admit there's been an unexplained increase in the deaths among baby boys?
A rise, but nothing compared to the rise you'd expect to find during, say, a flu epidemic.
Surely, Dr. Philmore, we're not talking about a flu epidemic.
We're talking about household burns, drownings,
car accidents, suffocation, food poisonings, electrocution.
Scotland Yard has assured us that in their opinion there is no question of foul play
in any of the mortalities reported. Forgive me if I speak bluntly,
but your kind of scaremonger reporting is the kind of behaviour
that brings the media into bad repute.
- Night, Miss Reynolds. - Night, Bill.
Miss Reynolds.
I need to talk to you urgently.
- It's about your programme about the deaths. - A protest march of one. How disappointing.
On the contrary, I congratulate you on your perceptiveness.
Well?
- May we go inside? - I'm sorry...
- Father De Carlo. - I've had a long day, Father.
If you call my secretary, she'll make an appointment.
I told you, I need to talk to you urgently.
OK. But... please keep your voice down.
My son's asleep.
"Then Herod sent forth and slew all the children that were in Bethlehem
and in all the coasts thereof,
according to the time of the birth of Jesus,
which he had diligently inquired of the wise men."
What are you talking about?
You stated that the common factor about these killings is
that all the victims have been baby boys.
But there is another common factor.
All the boys were born between midnight and 6am on the morning of March 24th.
Every child that's still living born between those hours is in mortal danger,
- if he has not already been killed. - Are you suggesting they've been murdered?
No, no, I am not. I am stating it as a fact.
- Who on earth would do such a thing? - He is born again, Miss Reynolds.
And so is the Antichrist. The son of Satan.
As foretold in the Book of Revelation.
I'm sorry, Father. Look, I do respect your faith, but I don't share it.
- You are not a practising Christian? - No, I'm a practising journalist.
One rule of journalism is to be a doubting Thomas.
I need to see evidence with my own two eyes.
Right.
Here is your evidence.
Check them for yourself.
Copies of the dead boys' birth certificates from the central registry office.
In every case, the child was born on the morning of March 24th.
Even if I can't appeal to your faith, I appeal to your logic.
Why else would someone want to destroy all children born on that date,
were it not in an effort to destroy one child in particular?
That child is our blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ, reborn.
Thus fulfilling his promise that, at the end of times,
he shall come again to deliver the world from the Antichrist.
And who exactly is this... Antichrist?
The American ambassador, Damien Thorn.
That's ridiculous! I know Damien Thorn.
You may know the man. Do you know his soul?
Miss Reynolds, I am a religious man, not a fanatic.
One of the commandments of my faith is
that we shall not bear false witness against any man.
If I had one shred of doubt about Damien Thorn,
my faith would command me to remain silent.
But I've watched him now for 27 years,
ever since his father came to our monastery to seek help in destroying him.
I've watched him grow from a boy into a man,
seen him exterminate all those who stood in his way.
Very well. You know Thorn, the man.
I'll leave you with our research on him.
But you must satisfy yourself before reaching your opinion.
And when you have done so, I would urge that you contact me as soon as possible,
at this address.
Here.
Day or night.
I...
I can't promise you anything, Father.
You say I know only Thorn, the man - not his soul.
But if I don't even know my own soul, how can I see into his?
Only God can show you that.
There is, however, one sign that identifies him as the Antichrist.
You will find it in the Book of Revelation, as I told you.
You will also find it on Thorn himself.
Under his hair.
Here.
The birthmark of the devil.
6... 6... 6.
I'll let myself out. Good night, Miss Reynolds.
And may God guide your decision.
The Israelis are onto Schroeder.
We've got to eliminate him - now! Before they have a chance to make him talk.
Then do it.
But we can't get close to him. They've got him in Tel Aviv.
- Damien, you're the only one that can do it. - You can handle it.
- I just told you. We can't get... - And I told you
that every day the Nazarene lives, my force would weaken.
- Now, how many boys are left? - Three or four.
- Including your son? - Now, wait a minute.
I've already told you, he was born March 23rd.
- Now you gotta believe me. - I'll believe you when the Nazarene is dead.
Yes?
Who is this?
It's Kate Reynolds' son. He's calling from a coin box.
- But how'd he get this number? - I gave it to him.
Hello, Peter?
Good. Now, listen carefully. I want you to follow him wherever he goes,
and make sure he doesn't see you, OK?
Yeah, and call me as soon as you find out.
All right.
Be careful, Damien. His mother was on the phone earlier this morning.
- She wants to see you. - Why didn't you tell me?
- I wanna talk to her. - Because she's dangerous.
I decide who's dangerous and who isn't. Now, get her on the phone,
and tell her I wanna see her tomorrow at the house.
And don't mention Peter.
Hi, honey! I'm home!
What are you doing in here?
Don't you come anywhere near him, you murderer!
Murderer? What are you talking about?
You lay one finger on him, and I'll butcher you,
just like you've butchered all these other children.
A priest came by today. He came to warn me that Damien Thorn is the Antichrist,
and he'll murder my baby, like he's killed these others that were born on the same day.
- You believe some religious maniac? - No!
I found the proof myself!
You don't know what you've done.
I once hosted a programme, And Now For The Good News,
- which won an RTA award. - Really?
For the lowest audience viewing figure of the year.
Yet now I'm reporting death and destruction, and my show's gone to the top of the ratings.
- Everyone loves a mystery. - I think it goes deeper than that.
We might aspire after good, but our real fascination lies with evil.
- Don't you agree? - Not really.
Most people confuse evil with their own trivial lusts and perversions.
Now, true evil is as pure as innocence.
Then what is evil?
Come on.
- I'll show you where Old Nick hangs out. - Old who?
Old Nick.
He's down there somewhere, lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce.
He must be at least 40 by now.
We first met when I was about four.
We've been old friends ever since.
You know Old Nick is the name for the devil in England?
Of course I know. But it's a great name for a pike.
Do you believe in God?
I think you know the answer to that question already.
- Look, there it goes! - Where?
Down there.
Damien! Help me!
Damien! I can't...
Help me!
Well, that should fit you.
I feel like a moth
that's flown too close to the flame.
But who is the moth,
and who's the flame?
Don't stop, Damien.
Don't stop.
Please don't stop.
What's the matter? What's the matter?
You wanna see what I see?
I want you, Damien.
You're hurting me.
Birth is pain. Death is pain.
Beauty is pain.
Damien?
- Was Schroeder on the Thorn payola or not? - No statement.
- Can't we talk to Ambassador Thorn? - The ambassador is unavailable.
- He's not even here. - Where is he?
When he is ready to make a statement, we will let you know.
Damien, I thought you were up at the house.
The press are goin' crazy for a statement.
I can hold 'em off until I've talked to Buher, but you're gonna have to...
What was De Carlo doing at your house yesterday?
Who?
Now, come on, Dean. Just give me the truth.
I'm telling the truth. I've never heard of De Carlo before in my life.
Peter.
- Go ahead, Peter. - "At half past three yesterday afternoon,
I saw the priest called De Carlo go to 144 Abbey Crescent,
where he spent an hour and 22 minutes talking to the wife of Mr. Dean."
Damien... Look, I...
I didn't know he was a priest.
- I didn't know Barbara would... - Kill your son!
What?!
There's only one boy left, and that's your son. Destroy him... or be destroyed.
Damien, for the love of God!
"And God said unto Abraham:
Take now thy son, thine only Isaac,
whom thou lovest, and offer him for a burnt offering."
Now, if Abraham was willing to slay his own son for the love of his god,
- why won't you do the same for mine? - You're all crazy.
Crazy.
Aren't you gonna stop him?
There's no need.
Go on! Go away!
Go on!
There, now. It's OK, honey. He...
Barbara! Start packing!
Barbara?
Ten o'clock, Miss Reynolds. Locking up in five minutes.
Coming.
Miss Reynolds.
- What are you doing here? - You saw him, didn't you?
You know Thorn is the Antichrist, so why are you protecting him?
Either you get out of here or I'll call security.
Your son... Where is he?
- He's in bed and asleep, of course. - He is not.
Your son is with Damien Thorn.
In body and soul. Your son has become an apostle of the Antichrist.
You think Peter's been at school for the past three days?
Check with the school if you don't believe me.
He's been working for Thorn, conspiring to murder the holy child.
They won't succeed.
The holy child is beyond his powers now. He's safe.
But your child is not. There is only one way to save your son, Miss Reynolds.
And that's by destroying the Antichrist.
- Are you asking me? - No. No, Miss Reynolds.
That is to be my sacred task.
But if you value your son's immortal soul, you must help me to carry it out.
Hurry along, Miss Reynolds. We're locking up.
I'll be out in a moment.
- I'm going home to my son. - Then I beg you to let me come with you.
There will be no time to lose when you find he's not there.
Please.
You think you've won, do you?
You watched me slay a hundred children and never lifted a finger to save them.
"Suffer the little children to come unto me." Your words, Nazarene, not mine.
Oh, Satan, the victory is thine.
All praise to thee, for thou hast delivered this child unto me
that I maybe brought face to face with the Nazarene
at last.
Now, Peter, listen to me and listen carefully.
The Christian faith has ten commandments. I have only one.
Say it now and we two shall become as one.
- I love you. - Beyond all others.
- Beyond life itself.
No, Peter. Don't say it.
Give me back my son
- and I will lead you to the Christ child. - Where is he?
Give me back Peter first and I'll take you to him.
Very well. You shall lead us both to the Nazarene, and then Peter shall be yours.
- No, Damien! It's a trick! - Not if she wants her son back, it isn't.
All right.
If you can help me,
help me now.
No!
Peter!
Peter? Peter, dearest!
- No. - Where is your god now, priest?
I'm here, Nazarene!
Where are you?
You hear me?
Face me!
It's time!
Show yourself!
I know you're here!
Come out and face me!
You bastard!
Nazarene...
You have won...
nothing.
ENGLISH