All language subtitles for Sniper.Ghost.Shooter.2016.WEB-DL.x264-FGT

Fixed & Synced by bozxphd. Enjoy The Flick

Are these our people?
Sourcing targets now, sir.

It's 70/30.

Are units on site?

Roger that.

This is a priority
level 4 target.

Working on positive
identification.

Put the team on Amber. Yes, sir.
They are standing by.

Get out!

This is Zeus, over.

Hostages are out of the boats.

Safety's off.

Watch your target indicators. We
are not cleared hot, hold glass.

I say again, we are
not cleared hot.

Roger, Zeus. This is rampage,
holding scope.

Hey, air force. How's my designated
marksman from falcon team doing?

Uh, don't you mean
"chair force," sir?

Due respect, we've been on the
reticle shooting 2,000 rounds a week

for the last four months
pre this deployment.

We're here to work,
just like you pendejos.

So, why don't you go
fuck yourself, cervantes?

Uh, no, thank you, chair force.

Falcon in position, Zeus.

Beats the shit
out of over-watch.

Air force thanks you
for the ride along.

My pleasure.
Suicide, sitrep.

Suicide in position,
I'm on glass.

Behold a pale horse.
That's a bad fucking omen.

This looks like
a real shit show.

Hold for Pegasus, over.

The executioner.

Bandolier's on glass.

String bean.

The deaths of these American citizens are
a direct result of America's crimes.

Blood for blood.

Hostages are American, sir.

Go to guns, they're cleared hot.

Zeus, this is command.
You are cleared hot.

This is Zeus, over.
We are cleared hot.

I say again, we are cleared hot.

Rampage, on your shot, we go.

Initiate contact
at your discretion.

Juvenile in target group.

No fucking way.

Kid's gonna do the first one.

Rampage, merc the motherfucker.

Rampage, take the shot now!

Take the shot, man.

No joy. Repeat, falcon's
on glass, standing by.

Requesting precedence.

Rampage, take the fucking shot!

Pick up the knife.

I said pick up the knife!

Do you read, rampage?

Take the shot.

Suicide, it's all yours.

One hostage down, sir.

Where's Pegasus?
Two minutes out.

Send it.

Let's back 'em up.

Sourcing multiple targets.
Holding on relay.

Take the shot.

Range me.
One thousand meters.

Miss.

Engaging target.
Arming missiles.

Target engaged.

Drop the hammer.
Copy that.

Missile away.

Target destroyed.

Bring 'em home.

Pediatrician from
Colorado Springs.

Provided care to villages that
hadn't seen a doctor in a decade.

Bird's here. Move out.

Gunny, have a word?

You hesitated.

You choked.

You wanna talk about it?

I'll get 'em next time.

We're not in the business
of "next time."

We're in the business
of one time.

You get one bite at that apple.

You got it?

Yeah.

Ooh.

Come on!

- Man.
- Whoo!

- Yeah, yeah!
- All right.

Whoo!

To Istanbul.

Out of the motherfucking shit!

I thought Iraq was a shithole.

Syria. Afghanistan.

It's all the same hell pit of crazed assholes
whose idea of a good time is decapitation.

Hey, hey, hey.
Can we not?

Hey, rojas, you wanna tell your
dipshit boyfriend to chill out?

Ex-boyfriend. That
obsession story is over.

Hey, don't take it out on me,
junior, just 'cause you froze up.

You killed the vibe, man.
You got to do that?

What?

Go fuck yourself, chair force.

We don't get into enough shit, we
got to fight amongst ourselves?

Fighting makes me wet.

Don't let her
get to you, brother.

Ah.

She calls me "junior" again, rojas
is gonna be short a spotter.

Aungst is harmless,
man. Ignore her.

What's been eating
at you anyway, brother?

She's right, though.
Aungst.

I froze up, putting that
goddamn kid in my crosshairs.

Yeah.

And?

And if I'm gonna keep doing this,
I don't wanna do it half-assed.

Embrace the suck, man.

Be a marine.

I'm good.

You sure? I'm around
if you need me, brother.

Yeah, man,
just give me a minute.

No problem.

You followed me a long way.

You better have
brought your game.

No pressure.

So, what brings you to Istanbul?

Really?
That's your lead, huh?

I'm sorry. It's just...

It's been a long time since I've
seen such a beautiful woman.

Better.

Business. You?

Same. Where's home?

Long way from here.

What about you?

I'm not really sure. Here right now.
Next week, I don't know.

Military?

That obvious?

You're not army, you're
definitely not Navy or air force.

There's one left.

Coast guard?

Yeah, I'll be a puddle pirate if it
gets me an invite back to your hotel.

Excuse me.

Hey, gunny.

Bidwell?

Food boats, south side
of the bridge.

Twenty minutes.

Crazy world, huh?

What're you doing here?

You were followed out of Syria
with a bounty on your head.

150,000 Euros to put you
in a body bag.

The call landed on my desk,
and I came to clear it up.

And?

It's all done for now,
but there'll be more.

Syria.

A mad fucking country, eh?

It's all the same.

You gotta ask, right?

Miller briefed me.

I blew it, man.
I messed up the entire op.

Miller would've busted me down a pay
grade if it wasn't for my old man.

What do you hear from him?

He's in the wind as usual.

You're a valuable asset,
gunny, if you need more time.

I'm all right.

You can't repeat Syria.

He was just a boy.

Tune in to what I'm about
to tell to you, gunny.

The work we do,
it isn't god's work.

We do the stuff
he doesn't want to do.

There are no chapter and verse to
help us sleep better at night.

Are we morally defensible?
No, probably not.

Are we necessary?
Abso-fucking-lutely!

This is the job.

We chew through the hard stuff.

There is no Providence
for what we do, is there?

I hesitated.

You gotta turn off
the feeling side of your head.

You've got a conscience.
That's no bad thing.

But don't let imperfection
be the enemy of the good.

It's hard living life after
watching through a reticle.

Trigger to target, life and
death, black and white.

Go find the blues
and the Greens, gunny.

Back to work.

Major bidwell, how'd it go?

Piece of piss.

The rest of you look drunk.

We were working on it, sir,
when you called.

Where's Miller, sir?

You're not the only
team in the field.

I assume you haven't read
your briefing reports.

Only because we can count on you to
tell us what the hell we're doing here.

Well, the corps has offered your
services for site protection.

Trans-Georgian pipeline.

Transporting natural gas
from Georgia

through the black sea into
eastern Europe and beyond.

That's a lot of territory
to secure.

Due respect, colonel, we're
not civilian contractors.

Whoa. Hold on there,
air force.

You're on a ride along with
the marines as a courtesy.

Understand?
Understood.

Colonel, sorry to
keep you waiting.

No, you kept me waiting.

Then let's get to it.

I'm Robin slater,

civilian-military fusion
center, operations desk.

Colonel Sergej babayev will be
our liaison with Georgian army.

The cfc has been asked to organize
security for the trans-Georgian pipeline,

most of which is being monitored by
local military and law enforcement.

Recent incidents in
construction areas, however,

require a higher-level
response.

In Georgia, just outside of tbilisi,
involving local insurgents,

as well as radical elements
from Afghanistan and Iraq.

That is why the cfc approved the
request to bring in your team.

What sort of incidents
are we talking about?

Sniper attacks on managerial
and engineer personnel.

Bombings of key pipeline
infrastructure in strategic locations.

Yeah. Near here.

Tbilisi, Georgia,
just south of chechnya,

just north of the Armenian
and turkish borders.

This is a rough neighborhood.

Intelligence on the ground
attribute the attacks

to an Afghan militant, roshan
gazakov, aka abu abdollah,

trained by British sas.

And another jihadi is born.

Austrian energy tycoon Killian grun
is scheduled to do a walkthrough

of a gazsnab pumping station just
outside of tbilisi day after tomorrow.

He will meet with tribal elders
to settle land disputes.

Your mission, over-watch.

Take out enemy snipers with
assistance from our eyes in the sky.

Gazakov plays a long game.

He kept his rage
hidden deep inside

while being schooled by the very
people he intended to kill.

This guy is no joke.

We'll be providing uav support.

Drones?
Yes.

The mq-1 predator
will be our eyes in the sky.

God's hammer.

I'll be quarterbacking this thing
from my jsoc office here in Turkey.

This is my stop.
I'll be watching you.

Cervantes!
Sir?

Get a haircut.
Yes, sir.

Watch your back.

And I'll see you
on the next one.

Blues and Greens, gunny.

Hey. No hard feelings?

Would've been nice if you were a little
more specific about your business here.

The same could be said for you.

Put a pin in it?

I'll see you in Georgia.

Three teams.

Think they can protect
all this high ground?

Don't worry about my teams.

How's your eyes in the sky doing?
Full operational go.

Smart enough to
tell friend from foe?

Smart enough to tell which rock
you guys took a piss against.

Okay, people, listen up.

I want three predators
in the air,

eyes on Killian grun
the entire time he's on site.

Let's make it happen.

Copy that. Grun on site
in 90 minutes.

Okay. Listen up!

Here's the short list
on the package.

Killian grun,
an Austrian oil tycoon.

He is the guy who will make sure

western Europe doesn't need
Russian gas from the Ukraine.

This is the guy to kill to
make the biggest statement.

Oh.

He travels with
Blackwater contractors

in a heavily armed and
heavily armored motorcade.

At 1900 tonight,

he will meet with the tribal
elders to secure the land rights.

We have him for two hours.

Okay, we got it. He's a rich
guy, don't let him die.

Let's eat dirt.

Eyes on that tree line, people.
I can smell them from here.

Rampage, blue sector. All clear
here, no signs of movement.

Falcon, white sector.

Suicide, green sector.

Motorcade, one click out.

This is suicide. The package
inbound from my six.

I've got nothing on glass.
No joy.

Stay with it.

No target indicators
on glass. All clear.

I think I'm seeing something.

See what? What's going on out there?
Somebody talk to me.

Rojas is hit.

I say again, rojas is hit.

Contact, unknown position.
Falcon, talk to me.

What the fuck's going on down there?
Falcon, give me something.

Incoming fire
from my two o'clock.

Argh!

Find me a fucking target.

I got nothing on glass, man. No
fucking joy. Where the fuck are they?

Where are my drones?

Ladies and gentlemen, we got
marines in a fire fight.

Let's help them out.

Find me a target.
Copy that.

Unregistered heat signature.
Possible hostile position.

Could be a satellite echo.
Confirming.

Adjust right, 20 degrees.

Man down.
I got a man down.

Let's take a closer look,
sir. Zooming in 500%.

How about that?
Arming missiles.

Target acquired.

Make it rain.

Argh!

Target destroyed.

Good on you.

Rampage, what's your status?

Oh, god.
Aurelia. Hey.

Rampage, what's your status?

Without confirmation of a kill,
we assume gazakov's still alive.

Spent brass. It's a...

14.5 millimeter
anti-tank round.

There's a souvenir.

Impossible shot.

How the fuck did they find us?

Rojas' hide fired on?

- Maines?
- No one's that good.

And not a single
Georgian hit, colonel.

You watch yourself, marine.

Rojas could build a hide better
than anyone in the business.

It was an impossible shot.

What exactly are you
trying to imply?

I'm not trying.
I'm saying it.

You or someone on your team is
feeding our coordinates to gazakov.

Stand down.

Unit discipline leaves something
to be desired, major.

It is my job, colonel.

Maybe you're forgetting
about the two body bags

loaded with a marine
and a us airman.

I am forgetting? Do you
forget who you're talking to?

Americans? Matters only
when you get killed!

Fucker! You killed her!

Stand down!

I am sick of all of your
shit-talking and ass-grabbing.

Honor, courage, commitment.

You are marines.
Act like it.

Welcome to pamir-alay.

You must have fucked up something
bad to get sent here, bro.

Sector of trans-Georgian pipeline,
official designated pacified zone.

Thanks, I think.

You have better coat
than that piece of shit?

Twelve thousand feet.

Dude, you're going to
need a better coat.

So, when did this all
stop being Russia, anyway?

Year I was born, 1991.

What's your job here exactly?

Me? I am
Jack-of-all-trades.

But for you, I'm your new spotter.
We'll see about that.

Don't speak a word of English.
Very old-school.

Know these mountains better than anyone.
Pipeline pays 'em...

That son of a whore
better stay away from me.

He welcomes you
warmly to his country, bro.

Mmm-mmm.

This is our American savior?

Gunnery sergeant
Brandon Beckett, sir.

We keep this up, you're
gonna run out of men soon.

Then it's just me and you.

Ready for some action?

Yeah.

Good.

This guy attacked
a Georgian colonel.

Insubordination.

This is what your report says.

Why?

I think he, or someone
below him, is a traitor,

secretly dealing intel
to the insurgents.

You think.

Enemy sniper team dialed
into our exact positions.

We were sitting ducks.

Lost some good friends. And
not one Georgian casualty.

What you pursue is
much bigger than one man.

Much more is at stake.

I would suggest gathering more evidence
before leveling such accusations.

It's kind of hard to do
from over 1,000 miles away.

Yes.

The old Soviet way of solving
problem with loudmouth.

This insurgent sniper
could provide truth.

Right.

I'm serious.

How do you say,
"from horse's mouth"?

So, I just ask gazakov?

Something of value

offered in trade for the truth.

Too fast for you, American?
I'm fine.

Maybe next time, you'll think twice
about attacking senior officer.

Mountaintop is good

for "cooling off," yeah?

So, where are we going, anyway?

Listening post.

Very sensitive information
passes through,

like enemy troop size and movement,
coordinates, surveillance.

If we don't regularly patrol, the chechen
thieves will dismantle it to ground.

Idiots!

Don't they know everything is
encrypted, firewalled, unhackable?

What are you gonna do?
Shoot them.

"Shoot them"?
Yes, American. Shoot them.

But they're only thieves.

Chechen thieves not
exactly the same thing.

You propose we do what?

Arrest them.

Arrest them, like John
mcclane, yes, in die hard?

Something like that.

Well, show us how it is more
correctly done. Democratically.

Give me your short arm.

You as well. Go on.

Yippee ki-yay,
motherfucker!

Stop! Right there!

Help me. Please.

Don't do it!

Welcome to the wild, wild east.

Your father, Thomas Beckett,
is no stranger to me.

Different times, different war.

We were adversaries back then,

facing each other
across a battle line.

South America.

Somehow, we avoided
killing one another.

For my heroic efforts
in the jungles of Nicaragua,

I was rewarded with three tours
in the first chechen war.

Want a test of your courage?

Pick a fight with chechen.

Before chechnya,

I was...

A soldier like
any other soldier.

All of that changed
on December 25, 1995.

Christmas day in your calendar.
Yeah.

Our unit was assigned to support the
troops holding ingushetiya border.

Many conscripts deserted their units
and some of them joined the rebels.

It was impossible to tell
friend from foe.

Squad was stopped on a city
block that seemed safe.

My position was set up.

It was my spotter, Yuri,
who saw him first, of course.

"Andrei," he said,

"the boy is carrying
something under his coat."

I looked at boy
through my scope.

No more than 10 years old.

Was it a loaf of bread he was
carrying under his coat?

No.

It was a bomb,

fabricated from mortar shell.

My humanity tells me,

"a little boy found a bomb

"and only wants to turn
it over to the soldiers."

Every sniper hesitated.

But only once.

Caucasus mountains in
the winter.

Imagine the vacation
possibilities.

Well, if it's any consolation,
it's 100 over here.

That's in the shade.

Well, consider me unconsoled.

By the way, the guy we took out on the
Ridge, turned out it wasn't gazakov.

Sources say it was
gazakov's brother-in-law.

You sure?

Yeah, they got his remains. By the
way, we're rolling out tonight, gunny.

Gotta follow the pipeline
down to the seaside.

Do a little recon
on the next stop,

make sure what happened here
does not get repeated.

Anything on babayev?

No, we drilled down
to bedrock. He's clean.

Just do your probation, gunny.

Keep your head down,
see you when you're back.

Not bad.

That will be the day,

when American can beat
Russian at winter sport.

1980, hockey.

Fluke.

2014, sochi.

Women's half-pipe. Usa takes
the gold and the bronze.

Half-pipe?
Be serious.

So, how does a Russian officer with
the 3rd guards spetsnaz brigade

end up working site security for
a euro-Asian energy consortium?

Do you have any idea what these
people pay private contractor?

Like your Navy seals
who work for Blackwater,

Russian special forces, too,
must feather nests.

Start over.
Lead more normal life.

Well, this is normal?

Compared to where I've been to?
Yes, American, this is normal.

No family, no kids.

Few choose this fate,

but after the first kill, maybe
second, sniper is what we are.

Must commit.

No hesitation.

All humanity lost.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Colonel, I put glass on the path. There's
movement. They're coming, colonel.

An hour, maybe less.

Chechens, colonel.
Lots of chechens.

I will enjoy watching
what my brother...

Will do to you...

And how...
...He will kill you.

I will kill you first.

Cheer up!

Saajid! There is one more,
there, behind the stone.

I swear, I think
you're enjoying this.

Just another day you die.

Find a hide.

Shoot to kill!

Take the eastern slope.

Where the fuck are they? They should
have been here long time ago.

That's what they
want you to think.

They're just doing what they're trained
to do. They want to put us on edge.

It's working.

Relax. They'll be here.

Find me that sniper, saajid.

At my 11 o'clock, something moved
in the snow. Do you see it?

I don't see shit, bro.

Kill one man, terrorize 1,000.
Get ready for a gunfight.

Ah!

Well, say hello to
my Russian friend!

Rpg!

Argh!

No, no, no...
I'm here to help you.

I'm putting my gun away.

Mmm.

When did saajid
choose them over us?

Last month? Yesterday? Ten minutes ago?
No difference.

He's dead because he did.

What?

Did you hesitate before
shooting this gutless traitor?

What're they doing here?
Eyes in the sky.

We're done.

Lesson learned.

Helo him out of there.
Put him back in the dirt.

Roger that, colonel.

Your contact is
at our forward op base.

He will take you to meet
gazakov himself.

You have a one-in-100 chance he
gives the information you seek.

Regardless, you have 36 hours

until you need to officially report to
your co at the batumi-gazsnab station.

Good hunting.

I'm looking for mothershed.

You've found him.

Zotov sent me.
He said you could...

Help you, yes.

Zotov told me all about you.

You're a cowboy and
you want gazakov.

Yeah, I do. Zotov said
you can get me to him.

It's suicide.

Can you do it, or not?

Let's say I can
help you to find him.

What then?

Are you gonna ask him who his source is?
Well, that's a start.

I trade for it. Quid pro quo. His
sister's husband was a spotter.

Yeah. We blew him to bits.

Well, what wouldn't gazakov give up in
exchange for his brother-in-law's remains?

Decapitating you, for one.

I'm willing to take that risk.
Man-to-man, it's worth a shot.

No, it's not.

Well, that's your opinion.

I'm paid to have
intelligent ones.

Can you get the remains for me, or not?
I wanna leave by sunrise.

Then I guess we better not
waste any time.

What's this?

The peace offering
you requested.

When I talked to zotov, i knew how
all of this was gonna end up.

That's all that's left of him?

After a direct hit
by a hellfire missile, yes.

Right.

We'll leave by sunup.

What officially is your job
with the pipeline, anyway?

Hear that?

I don't hear anything.

Mq-1 predator drone.

Say "cheese" before we
end up in a cigar box.

We have
multiple heat signatures.

Get the colonel.
I've got something.

Officially, I'm a geologist.
A geologist?

Oil and natural gas makes the
world go round, my friend.

The trans-Georgian pipeline is the
biggest geopolitical game in town.

All the major players
are at the table.

You, me, gazakov,

we don't even rank as pawns.

We are close.

How do you know?

They have been tracking us
for the past hour.

What are we doing then?

Waiting for them
to introduce themselves.

What have you got?

Potential hostiles, possible
high-value individuals.

Are you sure?
Can't confirm, sir.

They're here.

Put your hands up.

I'm not giving up my gun.

Then you will die.

Give me the cigar box
and wait here.

Hello.

Peace be with you.

We brought you the remains
of Shaheed niazof.

He's grateful for the remains
of his brother.

Now he can give him
a proper islamic burial.

Colonel, I think
you should see this.

What am I looking at?

Sourcing targets.

Facial recognition
is impossible, sir.

They're masked, but our guys down there
tell us this is definitely gazakov country.

How do I know it's not a
Shepherd tending his flock?

Last time I checked, Shepherds didn't
need a belt-fed machine gun, sir.

He says it was god's will that he was
able to escape the drone attack.

Ask him who gave him the
coordinates of the sniper team.

He says it was god's gift.

It was not he who killed the
infidel, but god's hand.

He's lying.

Brandon, be careful.

His talent is god's given.

This is an insult.

I do not lie.

Is the drone armed?
Fully armed.

Of course.

Forgive us. He meant
no disrespect.

We will win this war.

Maybe not in my lifetime...

But in my children's
and my children's children.

We'll win.

Now, go. I'll kill you
another day.

There's no way he could've made
those shots without coordinates.

Ask him how he got them.

Brandon, stop.
Ask him.

Without the exact coordinates,

you wouldn't have been able
to kill the sniper.

Who gave you that information?

He seeks the same
justice as you.

You forget yourself, American.

Take him out.

Ah...

I wish someone would've told me
about this bone-headed move,

so I could've said
"no fucking way."

Until I went up there, i
didn't know who I could trust.

And you sat down with gazakov?

We didn't actually sit.

Okay, so, what did you learn?

From gazakov? Nothing.

He just holds the rifle
while god guides his hand.

But I noticed something
interesting.

One of his militants carries a
toughbook wrapped around his shoulder.

Never stopped looking at it.

A computer toughbook?
With a satellite uplink.

That's a pretty serious piece of hardware
for a militant, don't you think?

You think gazakov fixed your units'
locations with our very own drones,

using equipment they could
buy off of Amazon?

No. We think they have mirrored
your drone network, real time.

Impossible.

Improbable, yes,
but not impossible.

This is Robin.

Yes, sir.

He's right here.

It's for you.

Hold the line, Beckett.

This is Zeus.

Are we secure?
Yes, sir.

Somebody wanna tell me
what the fuck is going on?

I don't understand, sir.

Well, sergeant Beckett
went off the reservation

had an unsanctioned,
unauthorized meet with gazakov.

First I've heard of it.

Is this how you
run your men, major?

No, sir. It's not.

Gunnery sergeant Beckett, do you wanna
be taken out of the field permanently?

Just say the word, so I can put you
in a desk in thumb-fucked Egypt.

No, sir.

You're riding the edge, son.

I can only cover your back
for so long.

They're watching our drone
surveillance live feeds somehow.

That's impossible.

They don't have the brainpower or the
hardware to mirror our drone network.

System logon credentials are bought
and sold on the black market.

Nothing digital is
completely secure.

What you're suggesting doesn't
even attain the level of a hunch.

Listen to me.

You stick to the missions,
I'll handle the intel.

I don't wanna have
this talk again.

As for you, major, run your team,
do not let your team run you.

Yes, sir.

Sergeant Beckett, i want you back
on the black sea with your crew.

We've got another archangel
operation for Killian grun.

Now, I don't want this one to turn into
another shit show like the last one did.

Do you hear me, major?

Yes, sir.
Shit show, last one.

Good. I'm counting on you.
Now get back to work.

Well, hey. Welcome back
to the party.

I thought you went
awol on us, brother.

They put me on ice for a bit.
Where's Barnes and aungst?

Radio silence since 0900. Next
scheduled check-in is 1400.

Mountains and ravines, man.

We gotta find 'em. They're gonna
be used for target practice.

Zeus, I got nothing.

Intel says
gazakov's here somewhere.

We're here for
long-range support.

Let them do their thing, suicide.
Troop's 90 seconds out.

Sniper team in grove to the south,
confirming the coordinates.

One man alone on hill to north.

South grove, right side?

Yes, god willing.

Georgian troops, dirt road
at your 10 o'clock.

Draw out the snipers.

Shots fired.
Troops have contact.

Where the hell is that shooter?

I can't find him.
Fuck! Neither can I.

Find me a target.

Sniper team, 500 meters
to your 2 o'clock.

Shot came from my direct front.

White house,
second-story window.

Argh! We've got a casualty!

Range 2800 meters.

Damn it.
We got to move, major!

I'm with you.

You're good.
Zeus!

Peel, peel!

The vest, take it off.

What?

Our GPS has been compromised.

Stay with me.
Please, please.

Suicide, this is Zeus. Take off your vest.
GPS compromised.

Let's move!

Move, let's get out of here now!

Stay with me, aungst.
Let's go.

She's lost a lot of blood!

All clear.

March, quickly!

How're we doing, major?

Better since we ditched the
vests and the GPS trackers.

It nearly saved our lives.

What have we got?

This was a setup, sir. They've
definitely hacked our network.

Enough about
the drones, Brandon.

I'm telling you, they can
see what we can see.

This is your problem, major.

No, it is our problem, Robin.

The colonel is a good friend.

I can't imagine he'll be pleased to read
the reports I'll be sending to Brussels

regarding cfc operations
in my country.

Attention on deck.

As you were.

What the hell
happened out there?

We got a tip on
unsecured radio traffic

that gazakov was holed up in
a village just west of here.

We humped in, set up.
Turns out, it was a trap.

They had our positions totally dialed in.
GPS was completely compromised.

Senior airman aungst
was clipped.

She's on a flight to Germany
to get patched up.

Perhaps gunny's
drone story was true.

I have my orders, too, gentlemen,
and we don't have a lot of time.

I'll check into it.

We're gonna hit them back and
we're gonna hit them back hard.

Shut down GPS, are we clear?

Yes, sir.

Carry on, marines.

Killian grun is here to observe
operation archangel in action.

Destroy gazakov and his forces

who continue operating in
kobuleti and Southern Georgia.

All these areas have seen increasing attacks
by Isis on ngo workers and civilians.

As you can see in your packet,

this is current
satellite photography

indicating gazakov and his
men are near kobuleti,

preparing to attack
this station here tomorrow,

destroying it and
killing all personnel.

We estimate there are 40 to 50 enemy
combatants in the kobuleti area as of now.

They are aware of
archangel's arrival here,

which is further
incentive to hit us.

As you know, gazakov and
his ilk are bad people.

They don't differentiate
between hard and soft targets

and are known for hitting resorts,
restaurants, big tourist attractions.

My god!

Recommendations?

Evacuate all non-essential personnel
at your kobuleti offices.

Intercept and engage the insurgents
before they're able to get here.

How many additional troops can
we put on the grounds there?

Given our timeframe, not many. But
we can augment a number of uavs.

Two more units in the air by
nightfall doubles our firepower.

We're going to intercept them in
kobuleti before they get here.

You really think
that's a good idea?

I think it's our only idea.

What if Beckett is right?
What if they're in our system?

What if they can see
what we can see?

They're not.

And you are 100% sure of that?

I'd rather be 80% sure early
than 100% sure too late.

Point taken, major. That's
why we're not using GPS.

All right. We know our role here.
We don't like it.

We don't make the missions,
we execute them.

You got a problem with that,
keep it to yourself.

What about our web gear?
Are we going off grid?

They recommended modification.

If you haven't done it
already, remove your GPS.

We pull out 0300.

What was the evidence of insurgent
movement towards kobuleti?

Drones.

And what's there in kobuleti?

Gazsnab home office.
Soft targets.

Well, what's in batumi?

You know what's in batumi,
gunny. We were just there.

They're hitting it tomorrow.

Exactly.

We just left the master pumping station
for the entire black sea transfer.

If it gets hit, 900 kilometers
of pipeline will be lost.

All right. But I saw the insurgent
movement with my own eyes.

They are headed
towards kobuleti.

But how are the coordinates transmitted?
Let me guess, the drone network.

Can you tell me the location
of the enemy sniper team?

By god's greatness, yes.

No GPS data now, but they were
observed leaving gazsnab.

Then they believe
we are assembling in kobuleti?

Yes, seems so. Streaming
false information was simple.

Georgian forces are riding
out to engage the enemy,

but that leaves Killian grun and the
pumping station vulnerable to attack.

It's a head fake, sir.
Tomorrow is today.

Call the colonel.

We lost our uplink
15 clicks back, sir.

Well, then, turn it around.

Turn it around.

You better be right.

What if it's more than GPS data? What
if they can see what we can see?

I don't know what to say, colonel.
Our guys have checked.

If they're getting information,
it's from another source.

Well, it's too quiet.
Something's not right.

I can feel it in my bones.

I don't fully trust bones.
I trust zeroes and ones.

No indication of enemy sniper
teams or support troops.

Our infrared heat signatures
are suppressed.

Send a message to the others.
Grun must be taken alive.

This game is binary.
It's all about hard intel.

Mm-hmm.

My god!
What is it?

Are you okay?

Ah!

Gunny Beckett was right. They
pulled data off of our uav net!

Get command on the line
for reinforcements.

Get him the fuck
out of here now!

Argh!

Cfc command,
this is Robin slater,

ID code
0-2-niner-green-8-0-9.

We are under attack. I
repeat, we are under attack.

Cancel all uav overflight
batumi, Georgia.

Cancel all cfc aircraft, over.

Authorization for grounding uav
assets on hold for further review.

"Further review"?
Ground them now.

They're pulling data off our
network and who knows what else.

- Just park it anywhere.
- Find a hide now.

Really, guys? Who wants
their balls cut off first?

I need a mag.

Zeus, this is rampage.

We're on glass, gone quiet,
have engaged the target, over.

I don't remember giving you
permission to go live, rampage.

My bad. Now merc
those motherfuckers.

Snipers. Find them.

Suicide, have you made contact?

Suicide is shaking hands
with the devil, sir.

Well, raise hell, boys.

Mortar team, bro, my 11 o'clock.

Authorization approved, Ms. slater.
Clearing your airspace now.

We've lost our infrared.

Keep looking.

Find me gazakov.
He's here. I can feel him.

No, get down!

Way ahead of you, bro.
My one.

Not him.

Who cares?
Drop the fucking muji.

Where are you?

We got a rabbit, bro.
Gazakov on the move.

Oh, shit!

Fuck! Oh, fuck me!

Are you okay, pal?

Yeah, just stay on glass
and waste that fuck.

Rampage, what's your status?

This is rampage.
Hostile threat down.

I need a medic!

You should see the other guy.

Good work, son.
Thank you, sir.

Brandon, a word.

Long time ago, I told your
father all he had was killing.

I was wrong. He had courage
and he had grit.

You are your
father's son, gunny.

I'll see you in the next one.

See you.

It's good to be back, boys.
I missed you guys.

That's what
i like to see, a team.

Pulled a Houdini on us
back there, top.

Oh, you know how it is.
Things to do.

But I wanted to stop by
and say, "job well done."

That means a lot
coming from you, sir.

But I thought I should tell you guys
that I'm putting in for a transfer.

I thought you were retired.

I'll be retired in
a different kind of way.

I'll still be with the cfc, but
in direct field operations.

Keep a better eye on you guys.

Hey, I brought someone
to see you.

Colonel, pull up a seat.

You were right.

I was wrong.

You were just doing your job.

Buy you a drink?

Yeah, I'd like that.