All language subtitles for 0u tst 11111

(DOG BARKING)

(CHATTERING IN
FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

HUNT: You speak
the language?

DC: Better than most
of the people in here.

The locals all said
you were
the go-to guy on this.

You work with
a regular team?

Just the redneck.

(SLOW MUSIC PLAYING)

Tell me about this area.

Hundred and 50 Ks
northwest of here.

Every couple of months it
switches between government
and insurgency hands.

My advice,
don't go there.

HUNT: I have to.

HUNT: When the war is over,
this place
will be a free market.

It's mineral rich.

DC: Are you some kind
of geologist?

(WOMAN CHATTERING ON TV)
An engineer.

I'm on a retainer to
a company that acquired
some real estate here.

I go in, survey it.
You ensure my safety.

I'll operate
a six-man fire team.
How much?

Six thousand US
per man, cash.

Four.

Payable only on
my safe return.

You've worked with
mercenaries before.

Where the guidebooks
recommend.

But where you've been
has nothing to do
with where you are.

Five.

Equipment will run to
another five, up front.

Be here tomorrow night.

I'll have a squad by then.

(DISTANT GUNFIRE)

Fucking ride, eh?

This big fancy company
can't pay for a bird, huh?

And let those RPGs
blow us out the sky

like the Red Cross
a couple of months back?

Smart moves.

How am I supposed to
work with this shit?

So don't get hit.

So what do you think
this place is?

Fucked if I know.
Same if I care.

Right.

Man pays the money,
he picks the tune.

He's kurac, anyway.
There's nothing
built out here for sure.

McKAY: Yeah, whatever.

Take a good look
at secrets man up here.

Now, why does
a prick like that
hire seven swords in a bar?

(SHRUGS)
For the same reason

he doesn't go with
private security, either.

Secrets, man.

So what is real story,
huh, Top?

(DISTANT EXPLOSION)

Yeah, this is it.

What do you think?

Think we're
gonna get wet.

All right,
roll it out.

There's a lot of traffic.

Regular Army
has positions to the south.
Insurgents to the north.

UN safe area
is southwest.

Right, lads,
places to be.

(JET WHOOSHING)

(DISTANT GUNFIRE)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING
ON RADIO)

(RADIO SIGNAL SCREECHING)

JORDAN: Jesus Christ!

Ow!

Why have we
gone dark?

'Cause this thing was built
before they
invented fucking trees.

Well, we're not
going anywhere
with it down,

so get it done.

50 says that company
of his lost some
new flyer out here.

Serious?

An airplane?
Sure.

Some high-tech shit
on board, too.

Got to test those bad boys
in live conditions, man.

And what,
you a CIA operator?

(SCOFFS)

No.

But 100 says
he could be.

Well, it's not a plane.

Cotter, give me
a base of fire
from here

in case we have to
double-time
it back out.

The rest of you
give me a perimeter.

(PANTING)

JORDAN: (ON RADIO)
Four, okay.

Five, good.

One, okay.

McKAY: (ON RADIO)
Six, okay.

PRIOR: (ON RADIO)
Two, all good.

He's underground, huh?

McKAY: (ON RADIO)
You'd be smart if you weren't
so fucking stupid,

do you know that?

You're with him.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Okay, everyone on me.

(MUMBLES)

Hunt.

This is it?
Yeah.

Minerals, huh? Right.

Cotter, Tak, doors.

Jordan and Tak, hold.
Everyone else on me.

Down here.

Right.
Hunt, on me.

Prior, Voyteche, left.

Cotter, McKay, right.

VOYTECHE: Clear.

(METAL CLANGING)

(GASPS)

(CHUCKLING)

What the fucking hell
does a guy like him want
with a shithole like this?

TAKTAROV: What?

Quarter right.
On the tree line.

(GUNFIRE)

DC: How many?

JORDAN: (ON RADIO)
In the tree line!

You, stay.

Rounds received?

Come on.
Rounds received.
JORDAN: None.

What?

Someone confirm me
a fucking target!

(RADIO SIGNAL SCREECHING)

Cease fire.

Mac, shut that off.

Man down!

(SCREECHING CONTINUES)

Jordan, get the fuck
over here!

(TURNS OFF RADIO)

Cease fire,
everyone, cease fire.

Cease fire.
We're fucking
bleeding here!

JORDAN: Shut the fuck up! Mac!

I said cease
fucking firing! Tak!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(McKAY GROANING)

Hey! Take it easy.

DC: Where's the shooter?

Right. 60 meters.
I don't know!

See? I got him.

Lucky if you hit
that tree out there.

(SPEAKING IN
FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

That's one nervous
little bitch finger

you got on
your trigger there,
teardrop.

When I say,
"Hold fire,"
you hold fire.

I got him.

You sure of that?
Fine. Sweep
and clean that area.

(SIGHS ANGRILY)

Oh, fuck, Sputnik,
I'll do it.

No!

(SPEAKING IN
FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

I do it.

The rest of you,
cover him.

It's nothing.

Bodies? Blood?

Not even shell casings.

Are we good?

Yeah.

It was probably some
passing patrol
or someone out for a jolly.

But this place is
a tactical nightmare.

I've got
an elevated tree line
bordering open ground,

and I need to
deal with that.

How long
will it take?

I need any available
power on-line down here,
in case we have to hole up.

Can you help me
with that? Right.

Voyteche, Tak, hold here
until we square it away
down below.

We're gonna be
bottled up down there.

Beats getting
ventilated up here.

Jordan, Mac,
need you mobile.

I need a fortnight
in Tijuana.

You know, what you're
doing here is your business,
and I respect that.

But when we start
taking fire,

your business
can quickly become
my business.

Could there be others,
like you, out here?

No, there's
no one else looking.

Why so sure?

My backers are
wealthy enough
to ensure silence.

From anybody.

War has been played out
around here for years.

Anybody could have
stumbled across it.

That entry
was easy enough.

Sure, the odd patrol
could have come down here
from time to time, maybe.

But they don't know
what to look for.

And that would be?

JORDAN: Minerals?

Who does he think
he's kidding?

This place is wrong,
very wrong.

Is it just me,
or does that
not belong here?

HUNT: Generator.

Can you get it going?

Let's see.

(CLANGING)

(CHUCKLING)

McKAY: What the fuck
is this guy looking for?

(WATER DRIPPING)

What is that?

COTTER: Motherfuck!

Fuck!

(RETCHING)

(VOMITING)

(COUGHING)

I think we're good if...
COTTER: Medic!

Jordan!
Stay here.

Jordan!

JORDAN: Clear.

COTTER: Over here.

Principal's back that way,
keep an eye on him. Jordan.

COTTER: We need
a fucking medic!

Medic!

(McKAY COUGHING)

Jordan!

We've got a fucking
breather down there!

Jesus!

Don't just fucking
stand there! Help me!

Shit!

DC: Jesus fuck!

Look at him.

(GENERATOR CHUGGING)

(PROJECTOR RUNNING)

McKAY: Name?

Poor bastard.

His brain is
totally minced.

McKAY: Name?

(SPEAKING IN
FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

Back off!

He's fucking gone,
guys. Pluto.

McKAY: I'm shot.
What part of me
looks like I give a fuck?

JORDAN: Wait a sec.
He could just be
a fucking farmer.

Farmer? Yeah, right.

Talk, fuckmeat!

That's enough.

JORDAN: Top, I reckon
the locals
used this place

for a little bit of
ethnic cleansing

then moved on.

It's possible.

It's like a slaughterhouse
down there.

He's the only one
we found breathing.

Christ.

Your guess
is as good as mine.

So what does
that make you?

Some kind of
fucking tourist?

I could ask you the same.
I'm a soldier.

No, you're an employee.

Speaking of which,
aren't you supposed to be
protecting someone?

How do you think
I got that?

And how does
beating him up help?

It made me feel better,
all right?

Running a little
low on causes, though,
wouldn't you say?

Walk away.

You know, getting punchy
isn't the smartest play
with these guys.

Which is why
I hired you
to hold their leash.

You seem pretty concerned
for his welfare.

It's just a little thing
called compassion.

So he's nothing
to do with you?
Nothing.

And finding
all those dead bodies
and him in the middle

has got nothing to do
with your assignment?

I don't think he looked like
he was in my line
of business, do you?

Now, am I dismissed?

That being the case,
I think you might all
want to see this.

You can say what you like
about the Nazis,
but they had style.

JORDAN: What the fuck
are we doing standing
in a German bunker?

HUNT: SS.

But not since
about 1945.

Aye, right.

Wait a minute.

You're looking for
gold out here, right?

I know about
all this shit.

Lost Nazi gold.

Right. Fuck gold.

I want three primaries
up there in the tree line,
30 meters spread

and lay some wire
beyond that.

Whoa, stop
the fucking bus.

I thought this was
strictly a 48,
in and out.

And now we've got
an unknown number of
hostiles sending down fire.

So we, meaning you,
dig in.

(SIGHING)

Bodies.

Dead men this high.

(SPEAKING IN
FOREIGN LANGUAGE)

Why dump them here?

Because they more
than just
killed these men.

Burying someone
already, eh?

Set in for the night.

Mr. Cunt thinks he's
onto some Nazi gold.

Gold?

PRIOR: Those bushwhackers
out there

think they're following
a money train.

They'll be back.

So you better watch
your arses. All right?

Forty-eight hour job.

You have better
places to be?

Nice.

You play?

(HINGES GRATING)

(BEEPING)

All this shit is why
I left the Marines.

Strike gold yet?

Can't even find
a match to strike.
You got?

Sure.

(EXHALES)

I hate that feeling
you get in the field.

You know, always like
someone is watching you.

Apparently someone is.
Didn't take you
for a religious girl.

Yeah.

My old boy
was a priest.

Said it was just like
being a soldier.

Both do a lot of
things on faith.

Yeah.

We both get to
burn twice, too.

Once here,
then in Hell.

(CHUCKLING)

Why don't you police up
any med supplies
we got downstairs?

Any time now is
just fine, nurse.

Go on.

McKAY: Your move,
by the way.

(SCOFFS)

Nice.

You're gonna
have me in trouble
pretty quick by this rate.

(EXHALES)

Bet you'd talk to her
if she bent down

and touched her toes,
eh, big lad?

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(GRUNTS)

Checkmate?

Just slipped on
some loose gold, eh?

How is our
comm situation?

Not good, Tops.

Not since
you ripped the battery
out backwards.

(SNICKERS)

There's a radio room
back there you can cut into.
Detail Prior on him

and see if you can
scare us up enough
to get back online.

Whoever shot you
is still out there
and I don't want to be deaf.

(CLANGING)

(BEEPS)

(CLATTERING)

(HEAVY BREATHING)

(BANGING ON DOOR)

Your men
need to grow up.

That's a nine mil
hollow-point.

Now, a shell like this
is gonna push your lungs

clean through your spine.

Leave an exit wound
big enough
to jump through.

You're gonna talk
sooner or later, Gunst.

And it's gonna be to me.

So, this is what
all the fuss is about?

What is it?

The last 18 years
of my life.

This?

It may not look like
much right now,

but this could be
the Holy Grail
of physics.

I never really
trusted science.

Well,

there are four forces
that control matter.

The key has been
trying to find
how those forces interact.

If we can do that,
then we can explain
the behavior

of all the substance
in the universe.

Einstein coined a phrase,
unified field theory.

Many people thought
he was close to
finding a solution.

But when he saw
the atomic bomb tests
at Trinity,

he abandoned the research
and destroyed his notes.

Nobody has even come close
to finding a solution since.

So you came all the way
out here because you think
that the Nazis...

Were working on
the same thing.

I think this machine
was designed to manipulate
a unified field.

And that chamber above it
where you found the bodies,

was built to control
the resultant energy,
contain it.

Why?

The Germans were trying
to win a war.

But with this technology,

its application and impact
in the modern world would be

limitless.
Uh-huh.

And probably priceless.

(SOFT MOANING)

(GASPING)

JORDAN: Mr. Hunt,
is that you, sir?

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(GASPING)

You okay?

(CRUNCHING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(BREATHING RAPIDLY)

What's the matter?
You look like
I fucked your sister.

You ain't gonna
get an answer, you know.

Shut up!

Killed a man once,
asked for two things.

When he was done
crying for his mama,
he begged for his God.

And you know
what the answer was?

A bullet.

See...

That bright light...

It ain't Heaven, son.

It's just a muzzle flare.

(SIGHING)

(RADIO CRACKLING)

(SIGNAL CRACKLING ON PA)

(INDISTINCT SCREAMING
ON RADIO OVER PA)

(RADIO CHANNELS SKIPPING)

(INDISTINCT CHATTERING)

(CLASSICAL MUSIC
PLAYING ON PA)

(MUSIC CONTINUES)

Hey.

Listen.

Fucking love culture.

Mac, turn that shit off!

(MUSIC STOPS)

(DISTANT THUDDING)

Incoming!

(MISSILES WHISTLING)

(RADIO SIGNAL SCREECHING)

Contact!

How many?
Fuck knows!

You, hold fast.

Stay down.
Pick your targets.

Mac, quarter left.
Cotter, quarter right.

(SCREAMING)

Jesus!

(WIND HOWLING)

God damn it!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(GROANING)

(ELECTRICITY BUZZING)

(SOLDIERS SIGHING)

Sound off.

VOYTECHE: One, okay.
PRIOR: Two, okay.

Three, okay.
JORDAN: Four, okay.

McKAY: Six, okay.
COTTER: Seven, okay.

DC: Five.
Sound off. Five?

He's gone.
What the...

Tak? Taktarov?
No, stay down.

Voyteche.
What happened?

I don't know.
The wind...

Tak!

Where the fuck is he?

Maybe he done
a runner down
the bunker.

COTTER: Maybe they
took him. Tak!

How close
did they get in?

Prior, check
the perimeter.

No way
they got that close.
Too much open ground.

JORDAN: What,
the wind and light show
didn't distract you?

Wire ain't touched.
The Claymores are intact.

They didn't even
get close.

McKAY: So he ran.

DC: No.

He didn't run.

Fuckers must really want
a piece of that gold.

There is no gold.

All right, hold fast.

Top?
Later, Jordan.

Sir.

I've been holding this.

The round I dug out
of Mac's arm.

An old 7.62, huh?

Yeah, except look at it.

There's no way
it could have been fired,
it's totally wasted.

You sure?

Trust me,
that could never have
cleared a barrel's end.

This, Tak,
that cross,
and before...

Jesus, 18 hours ago
this was an easy ride.

Aye, and 36 hours ago
you could
handle anything.

Now wind your
bloody neck in!

Sir.

(GRUNTING)

(SCOFFS)

Fuck with me.

Please.

Which one?
Tak.

Whoever took him
left that.

This was a Nazi bunker, DC.
There are plenty
of relics here.

See where
that's decayed?

That should have killed
the man firing it.

Instead we pulled it out
of Mac's arm.

Your team can function
with a man down, right?

Oh, sure.
Maybe you'd like
to shoulder arms

and come and sample
the fucked up weather
and light show

we've been
having as well, eh?

Weather and lights?

Yeah, fireworks
and a wind.

Well, like nothing
I've ever
experienced before.

Things happen
in the field, but...

Ludicrous.

Well, trust me,
after what I've just seen,
nothing is ludicrous.

Maybe he took it himself.

Or whoever took him
left it.

Right.
So whoever they are,
wear the Iron Cross

and are fucking
invisible to you, eh?

Mac, think about it.
Behind the wire.

Oh, come on,
you've seen
that complex.

They could be
right beneath us.

We cleared it.
Did we?

We're in charge.

HUNT: The Third Reich
was renowned for dabbling
with the occult.

Fantasy blending with
scientific research.

Field theory
would have been perfect
for them.

An equation
that could bend
space and time.

Potentially
alter reality.

They were running
some kind of trials
on these soldiers.

Exposing them to the energy
harnessed
in that chamber above.

Why?

Honestly, I think
they were trying to
enhance the men.

Enhance them?

Theoretically,
the human body could
become fused, disappear.

Interwoven with
the magnetic fields
themselves.

The Americans tried
something similar in '43.

An attempt was made
to render a warship,
the USS Eldridge, invisible,

using Einstein's theories.

The Philadelphia
Experiment.

Urban myth has it
they were
partially successful.

I think the Nazis
were attempting
something similar.

Maybe even
more ambitious.

A soldier that
was invulnerable,
unstoppable.

You're not serious?

They were.

(MAN SPEAKING GERMAN)

(CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYING)

HUNT: An Army
that could travel
thousands of miles,

and nobody would
be any the wiser

until it materialized
at the gates of
the White House.

Well, that's great.

But as far as I remember,
the Germans lost the war.

And I don't think
we're fighting a bunch of
pensioners, do you?

In theory, the men
could still be trapped
within the fields.

They would only resurface
when the fields
are disrupted, like, by us.

In English.

All existence
is nothing more
than vibration.

For years,
those who believe
have claimed that

apparitions are merely
ripples in
electro-magnetic fields.

Echoes of
a previous vibration.

Apparitions,
you mean ghosts?

You need help, really.
Fucking ghosts?

Ten minutes ago
you were talking
about magic bullets

and men who vanished
into thin air.

So, fuck your
Nobel Prize!

I'm pulling
the plug right now.
Start packing.

You can't do that.

Oh, you watch me.

No, you really
can't do that.

Sometimes it's not
the bullets
that kill you.

It's the orders.

I was surprised
some of your men
had loved ones.

You ran us through.

There was no exaggeration
in what I said before.

This machine could be
worth billions.

The backers have
assets in Interpol.

(CHOKING)

They'll go after
the families first,
yours and mine!

I've told
the financiers.

Another team's
been dispatched.

How long?

They're moving
as fast as they can.

(DISTANT SCREAMING)

(SOBBING) Please,
I have a little child.

Fucking hell are
they doing to him?

(SCREAMING)

(GROWLING)

They're playing with
some black dice now.

They say you can feel them.
The bad ones, you know?

How you know that?

Been talking
to the dead?

I've seen some things,
I'll tell you that.

But this, this shit is
just fucking weird, eh?

I wouldn't know.

Never lived
another way.

Yeah? Well,
where I come from,

a lad doesn't join
the British Army.

Not a good son,
anyway.

I held my first AK-47
when I was five.

Fired it at nine.

I make my
first clean kill
when I was 15.

Families forgive.

But one thing
I know,

there's no motherfucker
care less
about us right now.

(MUFFLED SCREAM)

Fuck!

No way.

No fucking way did someone
get past us to do this.

PRIOR: He's right.
Wire is intact.

JORDAN:
Because they did it.

McKAY: Who the fuck
are "they"?

Oh, come on Mac.

You've seen something,
I know you have.

No such thing.

No such what?

They put an empty
in Tak's fucking skull!
Jordan.

To fuck with reason!

These are
no ordinary guys.
Think!

That Nazi shit.
The bullet in his arm!

Shut it.

Oh, come on, Christ!

They've punched his head
into a fucking canoe here!

Brass knuckles.
Savages have got skills,
I'll give you that.

DC: Put them
in their ponchos.

It's a message.

They own this place.

That's enough.
We pull out.

We can't leave.
We can and we are.

We'll never make it
through those trees alive.

And even if we could,
then the financiers would...

You know
what happens
if we leave.

I'll take my chances.

You won't have any chance
unless you start listening!

I think that...
If we could only get...
Enough!

...the machine online,
then maybe...

We've been compromised
by a superior force

and we are pulling out.

You think
a normal enemy
would do that?

I've seen worse.

You certainly will
unless you start to listen.

Fine.

You want to stay?
Go ahead.

Didn't think so.

JORDAN: ...For thine
is the kingdom,

the power and the glory
for ever and ever. Amen.

What, you really
believe that shite?

Like there's,
you know, after?

I know a man's soul
deserves
to rest in peace.

We gave up that right
when we started killing men

who believed in things
for money.

Boy has got it.

Yeah, right, well,
meantime...

I've got bills to pay
in the real world, eh?

Cotter. Hunt's busy
playing fuckwit
down there.

Go and police him up,
will you?

The rest of you,
I want out of here
within the hour.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

You prick.

Mr. Hunt,
I've been ordered to
get you mobile, sir.

You wouldn't be in such
a hurry if you knew
what was out there.

And what is that?

We're all going to die.

Right. Of boredom.

Listening to you
whine and complain.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Run!

(GROANING)

(GROANING)

Are we good?
What about
Tak and Voyteche?

It's too much
weight to carry.

And him?

Fuck him!

(GUNS FIRING)

DC: Shots fired! Clear!

JORDAN:
Where's the contact?

DC: Engine room, now!

JORDAN: Christ, come on,
this way!

Shit.

Fuck!

Oh, Jesus.

All right.
All right.

(MAN GROANING)

Someone want to
tell me what the fuck
he's talking about?

Thinks we're being
stalked
by dead Nazis.

Ghosts?

I didn't get shot
by some fucking
spectral entity, here.

These things
are solid.

But the one that
killed Cotter vanished
right in front of us.

So why don't
they swoop down here
like God's own wrath

and take us out
right here and now,
then, eh?

I don't know.
Maybe God's not in
on this miracle.

What difference
does it make?
We're fucked.

You said that,
that machine of yours
was made to control them.

Not control, contain.
But they obviously
got the maths wrong.

You know,
for a smart man,
you don't say much

of anything useful,
do you?

Now, the last time
you found yourself
dealing with the undead,

what did you do?

Fuck this bullshit.
There ain't nothing
but men out there.

Jesus, Prior,
why don't you
just admit it?

It's real simple.
I can't see it,
I don't believe in it.

You don't
believe in the dark?

How much you
want to believe,
right now?

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

You take a life,
you take it for good.

There ain't nothing
waiting on you.

Got it?

Okay, okay.
Fuck. Okay.

Bring it on.

By early 1945,
the party was over.

The war was
essentially lost,

and the German
military machine
was falling apart.

All the files show
that the SS sent in a unit
to shut this place down.

And as far as I can see,
nobody walked out alive.

So does your
instruction manual say

what the fuck
these things want?

Want? They don't
want anything.

They just do what
they were trained
to do. They kill.

Those bodies we found...

Those were
their bodies?

That might explain
why they stayed
with the machine.

Any consciousness
that remains

might believe that
their only chance

to live again
is through it.

Guys.

Yeah, that or
they're just the last
poor fuckers

to walk through
this bone-yard.

Guys!

Motherfuck!

JORDAN: Prior!

HUNT: Where the hell
is he...

Well, that worked.

So we can
kill them, right?

His brains
are all over the wall.

That's good enough
for me.

Oh, you're
humming my balls!

JORDAN: Oh, shit!

(McKAY SCREAMS)

JORDAN: What was that?
Jesus.

Fuck!
Mac?

(McKAY SCREAMING)

Mac!

Oh, Christ.

You fucks!

You fucking animals.

Fuck you all!

Why us, huh?

Why us?
Why not?

Always the same answer,
isn't it?

Take a look,
all of you.

You're no different
to them out there.

Men who once had
a purpose, and now
have nothing but death.

Except
we're not dead.

Give it up.

They're gonna tear us
to pieces here.
All of us.

They can try.

When it's operating fully,

it emits
a high-pitch
frequency

that within
a certain radius

might act as
a counterbalance,
neutralizing...

Blah-fucking-blah.
Can we use it
to stop these things?

Do you mind? Those of us
with brain cells
are trying to think.

I'll do you...
Listen to the man.

If it was designed
to contain them,

then, theoretically,
if I can get it going,

and you can get
them in close,
we could trap them,

and leave ourselves
an exit
out of this mess, maybe.

How close?

I'd say 20, 30 meters.

Is he having
a fucking laugh?

You have a better idea?

But I don't know
if I've got
enough power.

Maybe if I can
hard-wire the current
from that generator...

But we're gonna need
some time

to get the sort of levels
we're gonna need.

Also, the machine
was designed to be
operated by three men.

I'm gonna have to
work it on my own.

I'll buy you time.

And how exactly
are we supposed to
get them in here?

They want soldiers,

let's give them
soldiers.

DC: We've got to
lure them in.

So, we use ourselves
as bait,

and then run
a controlled retreat
and bring them with us.

I want
fall-back positions
every 50 feet.

We need wire out there,
funnel them in.

Double up on
the anti-personnel mines
all along the tree line.

When they come,
we need to draw them in,
close as possible.

Then, fall back
in stages on me.

We need to shore up
all the corridors.

Take them only
where we want them to go.

Hold your positions
for as long as possible.
Keep them interested.

But don't overextend
your positions
and get yourselves caught.

I want your eyes open,
your movements clean

and your fire accurate.

Now, we're not gonna
get them to that cell,

so, take them
to the engine.

The closer,
the better.

What if Hunt
can't get it done?

What if they spring out
of thin air
right behind us?

DC: Then we're fucked.
Use what you can,
whatever way you can.

Keep your focus.
Balance is everything.

Don't fall back too late,
don't fall back too soon.

We need to
draw them in.

But they're fucking
unstoppable.

Right.

So were we, once.

Never did care much
for the great outdoors.

Yeah.

Ain't like we were
gonna do good things
for the rest of our lives.

Fuck, we killed
most everybody else.

I figure it's about
time we touched gloves
with some Nazis, huh?

(CHUCKLING)

(SOBBING)

You know the one thing
they don't
teach you in basic?

No matter
how bad things get,
there's always time

for another joint.

(CHUCKLING)

So, what do you do
when you're not being
a soldier of fortune?

Drink.

You know,
in every culture,

they believe
all the souls of the men
you killed

haunt you
for eternity.

Guess that's us
fucked, eh?

(BOTH CHUCKLING)

Okay. I think
she's ready.

I really don't know
how long it'll take
to generate enough power.

Well, keep the door locked
until I come back
and knock it down.

You do know
how to use this?

(EXHALES)

(ALARM BLARING)

Hail Mary,
full of Grace...

Weapons free.
Fall back on my command.

(SCREAMING)

(JORDAN BREATHING HEAVILY)
DC: Hold your fire.

Hold.

Hold.

Easy. Hold.

Hold.

Firing!

Fall back!

Moving!

(MACHINE STARTING UP)

PRIOR: They're coming!

JORDAN: Contact!

Sarge!
DC: Jordan!

JORDAN: Moving!

PRIOR: Top, set.

Moving!

PRIOR: Bring it on!

DC: Prior, set.

Moving!

Holding. Holding.
Holding.

Fall back!

Moving!

PRIOR: Set!

Prior. Prior!

(SCREAMING)

(GASPING)

Fall back!

JORDAN: Move!

(SCREAMS)

Move it, move it!

JORDAN: Hunt, come on!

DC: Hunt?

Hunt?

Move! Set?

Last stop! Do it now,
for fuck's sake!

Right!

DC: Come on!

(GERMAN SOLDIERS GROWLING)

(PANTING EXCITEDLY)

We fucking did it!

Hunt?

It's time to leave,
Mr. Hunt.

Smart moves.

(ELECTRICITY BUZZING)

(GROWLS)

JORDAN: No.

(GERMAN SOLDIERS GROWLING)

(SHUDDERING)

Shift it!

Moving!

Shit!

Sarge.

(GROANS)

(SCREAMING)

(GROANS)

It's not gonna work.

We're gonna have to
find another way out.

Where?

There.

Get me up.

(GROANING)

(GRUNTING)

Well, go on, then.

(GRUNTING)

(GROWLING)

(SCREAMING)

(DC SCREAMING)

(GASPING)

(SIGNAL CRACKLES)

MAN 1: Clear.

(MEN CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY)

Fuck.

Check this out.

I think I might have
got one breathing here!

MAN 1: (ON RADIO) Unit two
reporting one survivor.

MAN 2: Copy that.

MAN 3: What the fuck
is that?

(SOLDIERS CLAMORING)