007之金手指 Goldfinger (1964)【完整台词】

There's no cause for
alarm, gentlemen.

I don't like being
cooped up like this.

What's that map doing there?

This is my bank,

the gold depository at
Fort Knox, gentlemen.

In its vaults are $15 billion,

the entire gold supply
of the United States.

Knock off Fort Knox?

Got a key or something?

Of a kind.

There are 35,000 troops
stationed around there.

41,000.

And who's going to say
boo to them, Goldfinger?

- Hey, what's going on here?
- Hey, what is this?

The floor.

What is this, a merry-go-round?

Man has climbed Mount Everest,

gone to the bottom of the ocean.

He has fired rockets to the moon,

split the atom,

achieved miracles in every
field of human endeavour

except crime.

The underworld will rock
with applause for centuries.

- Cut the commercial.
- Yeah, get to the point.

You're wasting my
time, Goldfinger.

The depository is impregnable.

Look, the joint is bombproof,
electrified, lousy with...

Bear with me, please.

Fort Knox is a bank,
like any other.

Larger, better protected perhaps,

but, nonetheless, a bank.

It can be, I think the
expression is, blown.

My plan is foolproof, gentlemen.

I call it Operation Grand Slam.

I have devoted 15 years
of my life to it.

Every detail has been
scrupulously prepared.

Every eventuality has
been considered.

We'll operate on a
split-second schedule.

Your organisation, Mr Midnight,
brought the consignment

of these canisters across
the Canadian border.

They contain Delta 9.

- Delta 9?
- What's that?

An invisible nerve gas
which disperses 15 minutes

after inducing complete
unconsciousness for 24 hours.

Tomorrow at dawn,

the flying circus of my personal
pilot, Miss Pussy Galore,

will spray it into the atmosphere.

Once the population, including the
military, has been immobilised,

my task force,

which Mr Strap had his people

smuggle across the Rio
Grande from Mexico,

will approach Fort Knox
in motorised equipment

along Bullion Boulevard

which runs past the
depository here,

and intersects with
Gold Vault Road.

This fence surrounding
the depository,

as Mr Strap reminded
us, is electrified.

It will be dynamited.

My task force will
then move to the

main entrance and demolish it.

How, may I ask?

You made that possible, Mr Solo,

by arranging through
your considerable

influence in shipping circles

to bring through
customs uninspected

a consignment labelled
"machine parts."

All that will then remain is
to descend to the vaults,

where the bullion is stored.

- I've heard enough.
- Let him finish.

If you have no objection,
I'll take my money now.

What's the matter, Solo,

too big for you to handle?

Gentlemen, we must respect
Mr Solo's decision.

Please excuse me for a few minutes
while I take care of him.

Make yourselves comfortable.

- How do we get it out?
- That's the bit I want to hear.

Pussy.

Who taught you judo?

The gun you took.

Oh, the gun.

The gun, of course.

We must have a few fast
falls together sometime.

Hey, Strap, if he's got
the right answers,

you and me don't even
have to be there.

The boys can handle everything.

Hey, they closed up the fireplace.

What's going on?

- I don't like this.
- Hey, what the...

What's going on here?

The gas.

Such a pity you did not choose to
remain with the others, Mr Solo.

However...

Ah, Mr Bond, I thought you
were resting in your quarters.

Oh, they are delightful, but it's
much too nice to stay indoors.

I ran into Miss Galore, and she
suggested that we join you.

Mr Solo, Mr Bond,

another of my
distinguished guests.

- Hello.
- Leaving us so soon, Mr Solo?

Unfortunately, he has a
pressing engagement.

Yeah. I'd like to get
started, Goldfinger.

Boy.

Ah, when you gotta
go, you gotta go.

My plane will get you
to New York on time...

With your excess baggage.

Allow me.

My chauffeur's an
excellent driver.

You'll be at the airport
in a few minutes.

Goodbye, Mr Solo.

Some other time, perhaps.

Happy landings, old boy.

I found him under the model.

Operation Grand Slam. I
did enjoy your briefing.

So did I.

He's on the move.

Slow down. Don't crowd him.

Are you blind or something?
You missed the turn.

They've turned to the right
just ahead here somewhere.

Where's this old pal
of yours headed?

10 will get you 1, it's
a drink or a dame.

Dead.

Mechanical failure, maybe.

Unless he switched it off.

Why would he do that?

Drive to the farm.
It's all we can do.

Right.

Thank you.

Your share of Operation Grand Slam

will make you a very
rich woman, my dear.

Why else would I be
in it, Mr Goldfinger?

You'll retire to
England, I suppose?

No, I've spotted a little
island in the Bahamas.

I'll hang up a sign,
"No trespassing,"

and go back to nature.

Yes, Kisch?

Two men in a car with binoculars.

Touts looking for racing tips.

There's another
possibility, however.

Kisch, ask Mr Bond to join us.

We were quite right to spare
Mr Bond's life in Switzerland

if those gentlemen
are his friends.

Let's convince them he
needs no assistance.

For their benefit, Pussy,

let's make him as
happy as possible.

I suggest you change into
something more suitable.

Certainly.

Business before pleasure.

He wants you.

Ah, Mr Bond. Sit down, please.

Mint julep?

Traditional, but satisfying.

Yes, thanks.

Sour mash, but not
too sweet, please.

You disappoint me, Goldfinger.

You know Operation Grand
Slam simply won't work.

And incidentally, Delta
9 nerve gas is fatal.

You are unusually
well-informed, Mr Bond.

You'll kill 60,000
people uselessly.

American motorists kill
that many every two years.

Yes, well, I've worked out a
few statistics of my own.

$15 billion in gold bullion
weighs 10,500 tons.

60 men would take 12 days
to load it onto 200 trucks.

Now, at the most, you're
gonna have two hours

before the Army, Navy, Air
Force, Marines move in

and make you put it back.

Who mentioned anything
about removing it?

The julep tart enough for you?

You plan to break into the
world's largest bank,

but not to steal anything?

Why?

Go on, Mr Bond.

Mr Ling, the red Chinese
agent at the factory,

he's a specialist
in nuclear fission.

But of course.

His government's given you a bomb.

I prefer to call it
an atomic device.

It's small, but
particularly dirty.

Cobalt and iodine?

Precisely.

If you explode it
in Fort Knox, the,

entire gold supply of the United
States will be radioactive for...