A dim room. J. is talking.

J.
Who gave me away? The communists? Merde, the communists are shit, pieces of shit.

K. appears at the door. The guard makes some sort of respectful gesture and steps away. K. enters the room, closing the door behind him. J. continues talking, oblivious. All this happens behind his back.

J.
Don't blame the doctor. He was only trying to do the right thing. Don't—well, you will anyway. At least don't make him suffer too much, okay? He doesn't know anything.

K. walks in front of him. J. falls silent.

For a moment they just stare at each other.

K.
(mocking)
Ah. The great hero.

J.
I'm no hero.

K.
No. So you're not.

K. walks closer to him; J. makes a sudden movement forward—but he's tightly bound to the chair. K. grabs him by the hair and tilts his head back.

There's a thin, very visible scar across his throat.

K.
(tracing it)
This scar. You got this by attempting suicide. When you were arrested in '40. In your cell. With a piece of glass.

J.
Get your hands off me, you fucking bastard!

K.
(not moving)
Rest assured. That will not happen here.

He releases J. and paces away. J. shakes his head quickly, side-to-side.

K.
(after a moment)
Do you know who I am?

J.
I know who you are.

K. pulls up a chair in front of J.

K.
Do you know what they call me?

J.
Don't flatter yourself.

K. straddles the chair. He watches J.

K.
One way or another, I will get these names out of you.

J.
It must be nice, living in your own fantasy world.

K.
I think you are familiar with the routine.

J.
Down here in this godforsaken hellhole.

K.
We will go through the paces.

J.
Yes, we will dance.

K.
And you will talk.

J.
Right.

K.
It is not a matter of if. We have perfected this art, you see.

J.
Right.

K.
It is only a matter of time.

Silence.

K.
Or you could make this very easy for both of us.

J.
Fuck you.

K.
Just—

J.
Fuck you.

K.
—who could possibly blame you?

J.
Does that ever work?

K.
Occasionally.

Pause. J. straining slightly forward in his chair.

K.
I'm giving you this last chance, you see.

J. is silent.

K.
Are you sure you want to go through with this?

A minutes' silence.

K.
(softly)
Well, then.

He stands up.

K.
We'll have plenty of time to talk tomorrow.

K. exits, turning the light off.