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Fixed & Synced by bozxphd. Enjoy The Flick.
Nothing.
Hit and run.
Whoever it was, they're gone.
War's over. He got the memo.
Ize?
Allen?
Ize.
What?
We got no movement, not a sign of a shadow.
How...
How long we been here, man? 18-plus?
- Twenty. - Jesus.
There's nobody fucking out there, man.
- 'Less he's a pro. - A hajji?
I'm just saying, maybe.
Six construction guys on that pipeline.
Huh?
Two-man security escort.
Yeah.
Look at 'em.
What?
Eh, not one body near to anything resembling cover.
That's just fucking weird to me.
Don't mean shit, man.
Means he took them out pretty fucking fast.
And I think they're all fucking head shots, too.
Oh, fuck off. Look, hey.
Check out our boy with the radio; He got the call out?
Yeah.
That ain't a head shot, Ize.
Okay, fine, so one without a fucking head shot.
I mean, eight guys, Thirty seconds?
So you're saying a hajji went in there with a semi-auto?
Said he might be a pro.
Oh, right.
We're dealing with Juba now?
Might be.
I'm just saying, that wall's cursed.
It's a wall, man.
You're scared of a fucking wall?
Nah, I'm scared of what's behind it.
Could be two hajjis sucking each other off
behind that thing.
Hey.
What's there is there.
Rest of that shit's in your head, you understand?
Ize?
Mm-hmm?
What's your vote now?
Got anyone out there?
Nah.
I mean, I was 60% sure.
Now I'm, like, 80.
I don't think so.
Or... yep, he's a pro.
Oh, fuck off.
Probably the same as it always is.
Four or five hajjis came in and bushwhacked 'em.
Mm-hmm.
Yeah, makes sense.
Maybe.
Or he's a pro.
I'm fucking hot. I'm calling it.
Ah, see, fuck you, man.
I knew that's what you wanted to do.
I'm fucking with you, man.
What, are you fucking hungry again?
Already had four or five MREs, gorilla fuck.
I'm not fucking sitting here
dancing around your super-theories
that a fucking super-sniper's down there, bro.
No fucking way a hajji sticks around this long.
You shitting me?
I'm fucking hot as shit.
My balls have melted into one fucking ball.
Later, you're on duty,
you're gonna pry these apart, all right?
Oh, yeah, if I can fucking find it.
And you're gonna fucking like it, too.
I should've joined the fucking air force.
Nah, you're too fucking big for the air force.
You'd bring the whole thing down.
Hey, I'm serious, man.
- Get down. - I'm serious, too.
I'm going down there, grabbing that guy's radio,
coming back up here, and we are getting the fuck gone.
Yeah, Roger that.
Comm check.
Yup-yup. Check-check.
Where have you gone?
Oh, yep.
Movement?
Ah, you look fucking rigid as shit.
How's that one ball?
Oh, real nice. Real smart.
You'll always be number one to me, my man.
You got eyes on that wall?
I got eyes on your ass.
Oh, shake that Booty.
Oh, yeah, there it is.
Uh.
Ooh, there we go. There it is.
I think your tampon just fell out.
Damn right. That'd usually cost you 25 bucks.
You're clear 360.
Keep them eyes open.
Just watch my six.
Roger that.
Yeah, we're fucking solo out here.
Lonely as fuck.
Fuck.
I'm getting closer here.
You got eyes on that wall?
Roger that.
- Shit. - What?
Ah, this...
Man, this fucking thing's fogging up, man.
You have got to get rid of that shit.
It was Dean's.
Fuck Dean. Dean was a bitch.
Yeah, fuck Dean.
Dean was a bitch.
Bad Juju carrying around a dead man's scope.
Something's not right.
What?
Talk to me, man, talk to me. What's going on down there?
Ize, they are head shots, man.
Can you tell where they came from?
You know what, fuck it.
Get the hell out of there, bro.
Hey, Ize, just check the...
Ah, shit, I'm hit!
Fuck, man, fuck! I fucked up.
- Fuck! - Fuck!
Fuck! Shit!
Hang on, buddy. I'm coming down.
Shit.
They see me out there. They see me out there.
Back up! Back up!
- Take cover! - They see me out there.
Take cover! What are you doing, man?!
No! Get away from me, man!
No!
No! No!
Back up!
- Oh! Fucking shit!
Take cover!
Get down!
Ah! Shit! Fuck!
Sar'nt!
- Sar'nt Matthews!
Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
Ah, shit...
Fuck, I'm sorry!
Shit. Fuck.
No way. No fucking way.
Ah, shit. Okay, uh...
My brother, fucking tell RJ.
You got to tell him, okay?
- What about RJ? - RJ.
Tell fucking RJ that I got...
I got fucking... I got fucking 22 grand, man. 22 grand.
Stop, stop. Stop talking, bro.
I don't know what to do. I don't know what to fucking do.
Tourniquet.
Use your fucking tourniquet.
Fucking... tourniquet!
Use your fucking tourniquet!
Ize.
Ize, I need your fucking help, man.
I can't!
You know that!
No, no, no, no!
Fucking... The radio, the radio!
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
You got it?
Fuck.
Fuck, man, you got it?!
One second!
Oh, god.
- Breaker, breaker...
Aw, shit.
Break, break, break, spartan thirty tree,
uh, requesting extraction.
Fuck.
What the fuck?
Shit.
Shit. No, no, no, no, no, no.
No, no, no. No, no, no.
Fuck.
You fucking piece of shit.
Fuck!
Fucking fuck!
Break, break, break, spartan thirty tree,
- requesting extraction.
Break, break, break!
Spartan three tree requesting extraction!
Radio comm?!
He hit my fucking antenna!
Hit the fucking antenna, man.
Fuck.
You got eyes on him?
I think I got a shot.
What?
I'm going for it, man.
- You got eyes?
Fucking... Sar'nt Matthews!
Fucking...
Sar'nt Matthews!
Sar'nt!
No, no, no, no, no.
He'd shoot you before you even get...
S...
Sar'nt Matthews?!
You hear me?!
I'm here.
Hang in there.
Please fucking hang in there.
You got eyes on him?
Come on, man, where'd he come from?
I don't fucking know.
I don't know.
Crack bang. What's the distance?
Crack bang. Crack bang.
Didn't you hear it?
Crack bang, how many seconds?
Give... give me a fucking...
Ize. You didn't fucking Gauge?
Listen, man, I got one shot at him.
Don't fucking touch that rifle, man.
Second you touch that fucking rifle, you're dead.
Hold on.
Aah!
Fuck!
Oh. Oh.
Fuck.
Aah! Aah!
Aah!
Fuck!
All right.
Shane, I got eyes on him.
Sar'nt Matthews?
Sar'nt Matthews, you fucking hear me?
Shane!
Oh, man.
Come... you didn't bleed out.
Come on, man, get up.
Get up and dress that wound, man.
Oh...
Mm. Oh.
Aah... aah...
Oh! Aah.
Fuck. Fuck.
Oh! Oh!
You motherfucker.
Fu... fucking...
Fuck. Fuck.
Okay.
Last transmission.
Come in.
How do you copy?
Come in.
Last transmission.
Come in.
How do you copy?
How do you read us?
- Last transmission.
How do you copy?
This is spartan thirty tree. How copy?
Reading you Lima Charlie, over.
This is spartan thirty tree.
Receiving enemy fire.
Requesting dust-off. I got a man down.
There's a shooter. Got us pinned.
Me, got me pinned. Requesting medevac.
I repeat, I repeat, requesting medevac.
What's your position, over?
Uh, uh, grid whiskey hotel 7203.
Copy that. Stand by.
Oh, god.
Hey, Shane.
We're going home, buddy.
About fucking time.
All right, come on.
This is spartan tree tree.
Are you there, over?
Okay.
Reading you Lima Charlie.
You're on a radio feed, and we do not
want to move beyond range of your signal. Do you copy?
Beyond range of my signal?
You're already in my local radio.
Are you close?
Need a confirm on your ID, over.
This is Sar'nt Allen Isaac, 51st Oda.
I have staff Sar'nt Shane Matthews here with me.
But he's down.
Possibly Kia.
I don't know. He's not responding, so...
Over.
We copy, spartan tree tree.
Prepping medevac.
Oh, Jesus Christ.
All right, you little fucker, you.
Ah...
Huh.
Fucking NATO round.
Goddamn.
7.62x51.
No, we got a shooter. High-caliber weapon.
Requesting UAV.
We need your challenge code before we send in medevac.
W-what? Say-say that again.
Send your challenge code.
What the fuck is... No. But, um...
Who is this?
This is captain Otis Simmons.
I need your challenge code
if I'm gonna get you and your staff Sar'nt medevac.
Uh, Romeo, no... no, wait,
I didn't say I needed medical assistance.
Do you copy?
Copy that. I assumed.
But this is protocol.
Well, fuck me. How do I know that?
Huh? That you are who you say you are?
Allen Isaac. You and your staff sergeant Shane Matthews
made an overnight worm into a kill zone
to investigate a potential sniper
and report back to us.
Okay, okay.
All right, I'm sorry. I'm-I'm a little fucked up.
It, uh... listen, you got to bring a heavy escort.
This guy's a fucking asshole.
Where do you keep going?
Do you have a flare, sergeant?
Do you copy?
Uh, yeah. No, I don't.
I have an m4 and a sidearm.
I need you to stand and fire into the air.
We need to get a lock on your position.
What the fuck? This ain't ranger school.
The fucking shooter will get a fucking lock on my position.
Well, I can't help you unless I know your location.
Do you copy?
Fuck.
A lot of fucking help you've been
so fucking far, motherfucker.
This is fucking stupid. This ain't fucking protocol.
Sergeant, we need your exact location
to send in medevac.
Say that again.
I need your location.
No, my rank. What's my rank?
Sergeant.
You, uh...
You got an accent.
Not American.
You have seen through my camouflage.
Fuck you talking about?
I'm talking about hiding behind words.
Like you are hiding behind that wall.
You... you're...
Motherf...
Oh, shit.
You fuck!
I've got a question for you.
Your friend... is he dead?
Ugh.
He... he looks dead to me.
This is spartan 33 sending in the blind.
But maybe he's just unconscious.
I got a man down!
Sh-shall I make sure?
I got a sniper.
I got an enemy sniper.
- Requesting medevac! - Shall I shoot him in the head?
I repeat. I repeat.
- Requesting... - Does he have a wife?
Children?
Will they enjoy a closed casket
if I take his face off?
All right, all right, shut the fuck up, man.
All right, stop, stop, stop, stop.
Is there something that you want?
Yes.
Well, I don't know nothing.
I'm a buck Sar'nt. They don't tell me shit.
So fuck you.
That's not what I want.
Oh, what do you want?
You want fucking 12 virgins or something?
I want to get to know you.
I just want to get to know you.
Will you allow that?
Y... you're fucking with me.
I was, but you figured it out.
So now let's be real.
It's just you and me out here.
So, what do you say?
Yeah, I'll talk to you.
Good. Where are you from?
No. Listen, I don't know shit about you,
so why don't you go first?
Me? There is nothing
to say. No story.
Well, you're the one who wants to get chatty, bro.
Why ain't you saying anything?
Huh?
Okay. I'll start.
I am just a regular Iraqi man.
A civilian.
A civilian, my ass.
Crack bang.
One, two, three, four, five.
Okay.
One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five.
One, two, three, four, bang.
Four plus four.
Four plus four, 800.
Plus...
Okay.
Bullet.
45, 50, 60.
60-degree angle.
Nine, 950...
950 plus...
That gives me...
1,500.
Okay. Okay.
Got the wall,
me, Matthews.
Crane, construction site,
trailers, flagpole.
And you?
What about me?
Are you a regular American?
Uh, yeah, a regular Joe.
A regular g.I. Joe.
Army ranger or marine?
You worked in our fucking ranks, huh?
Had our training, and then you fucking backstab us.
Look, these fucking guys were building pipelines.
Building up your fucking economy, you asshole.
Pipelines, huh?
For our economy?
Yeah, that's fucking money.
Infrastructure, education, schools.
These guys were fucking contractors.
Not here to fight.
War's over, bro.
Bro?
Whatever, man.
It's an interesting choice of words.
And yet I disagree with you, bro.
The war's not over.
Definitely not for you.
You say, you say a lot of fucking fancy words.
What are you, ha...
Hajji Shakespeare or some shit?
Shakespeare?
Military lingo is all poetry.
Battle rattle, ghetto grip...
Johnny jihad, friendly fire.
- Your turn, Isaac.
Or should I say "Ize"?
What?
What-what do you mean it's my turn? What you want me to say?
- Tell me where you're from.
Where's your family?
I'm not talking about fucking family.
Oh, god.
Okay, then tell me about your brothers and sisters at arms.
That's a negative, too, bro.
I don't want any military secrets, just stories.
Eat a dick.
I will shoot Matthews if you don't talk.
Go ahead.
- Yes?
He is your second loss.
First Dean, now Matthews.
How the fuck do you know about Dean?
- Keep talking. - No, fuck you. How?
You carry his scope around.
What was it your sergeant said?
"A dead man's scope"?
Oh, you...
Just tell me something, Isaac.
Tell me about your comrades.
Or I will shoot Matthews' face off.
Okay.
Uh... yeah.
Uh, we, uh... we play ball.
- I beg your pardon?
Uh... yeah, no, me, uh...
Me and the squad, we, uh... We play in the afternoon.
Uh, uh, get baked in the Iraqi sun.
Uh... nothing else to do.
No war to fight.
"Baked"?
- What does that mean?
Baked, like, uh, you know, tanned.
Go on.
Go on?
What about sergeant Matthews?
Did he get baked?
Did Dean?
I ain't talking about fucking Dean with you,
you dirty fucking hajji.
If I were you, I would start talking, Isaac.
Tell me about Dean.
What's the obsession, huh?
What the fuck?
It's interesting to me...
The bond between you and your brothers.
And I will shoot Matthews if you do not speak.
I'm looking at him right now.
It would be so easy to tear his face off.
- His family won't even recognize him. -
is that what you want, Ize?
You should just answer my questions.
All right, all right.
So, tell me about Dean's scope.
Oh, fuck.
I can see it at the base of the wall there.
Why do you keep it?
Fuck.
You said it's broken.
Why would you carry around a broken scope, Isaac?
Oh, shut the fuck up, man.
How's this end?
How the fuck's this end?
I'm sorry?
I said, how the fuck's it end?
What's the fucking endgame?
There's no endgame.
I'm just enjoying our conversation.
Oh, stop. Fucking stop, all right?
You're not gonna get to fucking know me.
But I feel like I know you better already.
No, you fucking don't!
You don't know shit.
You're dehydrated... I know that.
That's why I aimed at your water bottle.
No, you didn't. You fucking was trying to hit me.
No. The water bottle.
Nobody's that fucking accurate.
And your antenna.
No fucking way.
And your knee.
I know the Popliteal vein in your leg
carries enough blood that, no matter what kind
of bandaging you have, you will still be sitting
in a puddle of plasma.
You're feeling fatigued, lightheaded.
- And you will bleed out before nightfall. -
what the fuck is going on with this shit?
You fucker.
You psychotic motherfucker.
What do you want from me?
Oh, fuck!
Fucking...
Fucking... hajji.
Hey, where do you keep fucking going, huh?
No, no,
you're trying to fucking circle my wall, ain't you?
Huh?
Trying to circle around my wall, motherfucker?
That's ironic.
Yeah, I'm right, huh?
You say "my wall."
The very wall your country came here to knock down,
you now try desperately to keep from falling.
Oh, you find that fucking funny, huh?
You should know,
- that wall you're hiding behind
was actually part of a school.
Yeah, well, I'll piss on it.
That's what I think about your fucking wall.
You're hiding in the shadow of Islam.
No, I'm hiding in the shadow of fucking death.
I'm in the fucking shadow of death.
That's got...
That's got to be a 20 mag.
Eight guys.
It's got to be 20 mag.
One in Matthews,
three in me.
That 76...
That 7.62x51 NATO round is U.S. issued?
Hey, motherfucker.
You want to talk? Come on, man. What's up?
You want to know the weapon I'm using.
M24?
Mark 11?
I would prefer an M96 windrunner any day.
I thought we were being honest.
I know you're using a mark 11.
No, you believe that's what I'm using.
But you don't know anything for certain.
Y-you don't know shit.
Is that how you say it?
- "You don't know shit"?
Say that again.
I can't hear you.
Okay.
You...
Don't...
Know... shit.
I don't know shit, huh?
Well, go on, please.
Educate me, man.
Come on, I'm listening.
You Americans,
you think you know it all.
You think it's simple.
That I am your enemy.
But we are not so different, you and I.
Yeah, except I ain't a fucking terrorist.
And you think I am?
You are the one who has come to another man's country.
- Camouflaged yourself in his land, -
- in his soil.
No fucking way.
From where I'm sitting,
you look very much like the terrorist.
You're in the fucking trash?
No fucking way.
Unless he's a pro.
You're him.
You're Juba.
The ghost.
A hundred men out there call themselves Juba.
I'm just a man.
35 U.S. casualties,
angel of death.
That's why they never find you.
Damn.
You must've been days in that fucking shit heap.
So, we trained you, obviously.
Learn how to shoot, trajectory, zeroing the rifle,
no reloads between shots.
Learned all that shit and then betrayed us?
Depends on the angle you look at it from.
Only one angle.
- Yes, as I'd expect you to say.
No.
Tell me you're my enemy... Fine, I'll respect that.
We kill, we kill.
But say you're my friend and shoot me in the back,
the only angle I see is a fucking snake.
But if this friend shoots you in the back and you survive,
is it okay to shoot him back?
I want you to tell me something, Isaac.
Why are you here?
Why are you still here, Isaac?
How many tours have you done now?
Why do you keep coming back?
Ooh.
Is it because of Dean?
You've got to...
How the fuck did I get here?
Is that why?
Be honest with me, Isaac.
Is it because of Dean?
- Just tell me...
How... did you know...
How'd you know that name?
Tell me one thing about him.
Just one thing.
We were from around about the same area.
His cousins...
Went to the same school as me.
My dad knows his...
Seen his kid.
Held him.
More than Dean's ever done.
Clem works by the fucking stop n' shop.
Clem?
Clementine, his wife.
No fucking way. I can't...
I c... I can't go back to that.
Fucking day in, day out shit.
And them looking at me.
And they would. They...
They'd look at me and they'd...
They'd see me.
Fuck.
Nope.
I can't go... I can't...
I can't do that. I can't go back.
Oh, my god.
Fuck.
You happy now, huh?
Now you know everything.
You're fucked up, you know that?
Why is that?
'Cause you got to mess with my fucking head, too.
Isaac, when this is over,
the skin will be cut from your face.
Your eyes will be gouged.
Fucking shoot me, you prick.
Your lying tongue will be stapled to your chest.
Just fucking shoot me, man. Get it over with.
But I will let them find your body.
Fuck it, I might just shoot myself.
All right, you asshole,
where are you?
Okay.
All right, you stupid motherfucker.
Bite on this, you fucking hajji bitch.
Come on, show me something.
Send it, bitch.
Fuck.
Oh, fuck, aah.
Oh, shit.
Oh, fuck!
That was foolish, Isaac.
I could've shot you.
I could've easily shot you.
Ize.
I just want to have a conversation with you, Isaac.
Why are you trying to get yourself killed?
Isaac, are you there?
Oh, fuck.
Isaac. Isaac.
The radio you risked your life for...
It's dead.
Are you dead, too?
You missed. I'm still here.
You're not that fucking good.
He speaks!
Tear up the planks. Hear, hear.
It is the beating of his hideous heart.
What's that, one of your gay-ass hajji poems?
American.
"Tell-tale heart."
Edgar Allan Poe.
I didn't catch a fucking word you're saying, man.
Edgar Allan Poe. Don't you...
What's wrong with your fucking radio, man? What is that?
You must've studied his work.
He's an American great.
Writing is really...
What is it? Not doing a fucking thing.
Did you know that he was an orphan?
He tried to be a soldier, but didn't get very...
Shane. Shane, is that you?
He was a better writer
than a soldier.
"Once upon a midnight dreary,
"while I pondered, weak and weary...
- Sar'nt Matthews! - "Suddenly there came...
- "A tapping, rapping... - Is that you?
"At my chamber door.
"And there stepped a stately raven
from the saintly days of yore."
"Take thy beak from out of my heart,
"and take thy form from off my door.
Quoth the raven, 'nevermore.'"
or perhaps you would prefer Robert frost?
"A voice said...
"'Look me in the stars...
- I see you, man! - "'...And tell me truly,
- "'men of earth... - I knew you were taking a nap!
"'...if all the soul and body scars...
I found that fucking weasel.
Were not too much to pay for birth.'"
Twelve o'clock.
In the fucking trash heap.
His poetry is so beautiful.
Fu...
Shit.
So, uh, you studied, huh?
Uh... studied, uh...
You studied here or abroad?
Like, um, I know they got those, uh,
study abroad programs or whatnot.
Shane! A shot from that distance,
he's got to be at least
25, Thirty feet up, man.
We're talking 1,500 meters.
1,550 maybe.
Right? Huh?
Why ain't you talking, man?
Come on, you there?
Ah, fuck.
Fuck.
Are you there, man?
It's just, you know, uh,
you know a lot about books and shit.
I just thought I might even
learn some hajji Shakespeare or some shit.
Shakespeare?
Is that the only poet you know?
I studied English.
What, you, uh...
You minor in sniping or something?
I was a teacher in Baghdad,
but a bomb hit my school.
Hey, you got it? Shane.
I got shrapnel in my left elbow. Still hurts.
Fucking trash heap behind the white trailer.
1,550.
It reminds me of the students I lost.
Go on, baby.
Go on, baby, let's do this.
Is that why you shoot civilian contractors?
As the scripture says, an eye for an eye.
That's bullshit.
You're no more religious than I am, man.
That's just a fucking excuse to shoot up some Americans.
You're good, man.
Just keep going slow, baby, real slow.
- Is that a question, Isaac? - Slow is smooth,
smooth is fast.
Yeah, that's right.
You see, that's what I don't get.
How's an educated person like you become a fucking terrorist?
You tell me.
Oh, shut your fucking mouth.
You're fading, Isaac.
You like to hear yourself talk, don't you?
I'm fucking fantastic.
Chilling like a villain, baby.
You are not fantastic.
You have no water.
You're dehydrated.
The sun is...
The sun's baking you.
You're bleeding to death.
Cap...
Captain...
Captain Albright.
What's that?
A legend.
Trained me. Trained Dean, too.
He's coming for us.
For your bodies.
When we don't report in, he's on your ass.
Judging from your and Matthews' performances,
I'm not concerned.
Fuck you.
He's coming for us.
He trained us.
Trained us to survive.
And won't he be disappointed?
You didn't win shit.
You hear me, motherfucker?
- You didn't win shit.
From a place you will not see...
Comes a sound you will not hear.
Just a flash of fucking light.
Boom.
When I'm done with you and Matthews,
everyone will know who the winner is.
Shane!
Hold still, man, hold still.
Should I take sergeant Matthews' head off?
Shit.
Hold still, man.
- Don't fucking move. - Will you take something
from Matthews?
Like your broken scope?
He's in my crosshairs right now.
I've got eyes on him.
What?
I don't make empty threats, Isaac.
I'm going to tear his face off.
Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait.
I carry around the scope because it reminds me
why I can't hold a Sc...
Hold a rifle again.
Okay?
You listening to me?
Dean dropped it,
the scope, in the line of duty.
He fell over trying to pick it up and I missed...
I missed the sniper, okay?
You fucking listening to me?!
I didn't see him. That's how he got hit.
It was my fault.
Goddamn it, you fucking listening?!
No. Slower, man.
Slower, slower.
Slower what?
- What's going on?
Who are you talking to?
Who am I talking to?
- I'm talking to fucking god!
He's 30 feet up
in the trash somewhere!
I don't fucking know.
I'm sorry, man.
Give me Max plus four!
Six mils right!
Send when ready!
Fuck.
Did you get him?
Please tell me you got him.
Aah!
- Oh, fuck. - Fuck!
- You bastard. You fucking... - Oh, fuck me.
Just fucking let him go, you piece of shit!
Shane, get up, man!
He ain't a threat to you anymore.
- Just fucking let him go. - Oh, goddamn it.
- Don't fucking stop! Don't fucking stop! - Fuck, fuck.
Just like that. Just like that, baby. Just go!
Fuck. Come on, man! Move!
Keep coming, man! You're almost there!
Come on. Just like that, man.
Reach for me. Reach for me!
Why? Why?
I want to go home!
I want to go fucking home, motherfucker.
So go.
Walk away.
You'll just fucking shoot me.
No, I won't.
Yes, you fucking will.
Why wouldn't you?
Because that's not really what you want.
What?
You don't want to go home, do you?
The fuck's that mean, man?
The war's over.
You're still here.
Why?
I killed him.
I did.
He went to go confirm a kill.
Enemy sniper.
The guy was playing possum.
Started shooting at Dean.
I tried shooting back, but the bullet went right through Dean.
Oh, man, I lied!
I fucking lied so much!
Trying to keep the story straight.
I lied to everybody.
I lied to every single person, except you, a fucking hajj!
Are you there?
You listening to me?
Do you hear me?
Where are you, man?
Where do you keep going?
No, something's off.
Spartan 33, this is mobile HQ actual.
Spartan thirty tree, this is mobile HQ actual.
This is spartan 33! How copy?
Spartan 33 confirmed.
- Name and rank? - Sar'nt a...
Sergeant Allen b. Isaac.
Affirm.
Good to hear you again, Sar'nt.
What the fuck?
No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Hey, cap, cap!
Any sign of the shooter in the last hour?
- No, still quiet. - No, no, no, no, no, no.
We're chilling like villains, cap.
Cap, cap, cap! This is Sar'nt Allen b. Isaac...
What's Matthews' status?
He's stable, sir.
No, no!
Captain Albright!
All due respect, cap,
that's what y'all said an hour ago.
Can I get an updated eta?
Eta about an hour 20.
Copy that.
Fuck. Don't do this, man.
We're getting baked out here.
- Little out of it. - Hang in there, boys.
We'll be approaching
grid hotel whiskey 7203
in approximately 6-0 Mikes.
Had to detour due to hostiles.
That guy called for us.
Fucking hajjis.
Just hoping you get here before nightfall.
Scared of the dark now, boys?
How many times you done this, you motherfucker?
Could've fooled me.
Sure you don't need a little vagisil for the problem areas?
Construction guys call for security detail.
Security detail calls for us, and I...
- I call for them. - I hear that.
We'll see you in 80...
Camouflage yourself in me, you fuck.
We'll do our best, cap.
Over and out.
Out.
Fuck you.
Oh, fuck you...
Fuck off, will ya?
- Hey, damn it!
Hey, you fucking there?
You can't shoot them.
You know that, right?
You shoot, you give away your position.
And they'll fucking find you.
They will.
You listening to me?
You there?
Fuck.
I'm gonna shut you the fuck up.
Ah.
I ain't afraid of dyin'.
Yeah, yeah, yeah!
Spread out! Secure the perimeter!
Go, go!
Casualty, Ten o'clock.
Sergeant Isaac. All right, go, move it!
The trash. He's in...
It's all gonna be okay.
Two friendlies! Got two friendlies!
We got you. Just breathe.
- He's in the trash. - You're gonna be all right.
All clear! Perimeter clear!
Bulldog 1-7, wheel's up.
3-5, wheel's up.
Bulldog flight...
Coming right, heading 2-3-0.
3-5, copy.
Try to relax, sergeant.
You're gonna be all right.
Just relax. Just relax.
I've set up the oxygen.
He's going through it pretty fast
so prep the backup tank.
We'll reset in five Mikes.
You got that? Five Mikes.
Copy that.
What?
- Holy shit! - We're taking fire!
Where the fuck's it coming from?
- He's in the trash! - Lie down! Lie down!
- He's in the trash! - What?
- He's in the fucking trash! - Hold on!
He's in the trash!
Under fire! Under fire!
Brace! Brace!
Mayday, mayday, mayday!
We're going down!
Helo bulldog 1-7,
Helo bulldog 3-5.
This is Baghdad command. How copy?
Bulldog 1-7, how copy?
This is bulldog 1-7.
Reading you Lima Charlie.
Over.
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