All language subtitles for The.Base.1999.720p.BluRay.x264.AAC-[YTS.BZ]

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(truck rumbling)
(soft suspenseful music)

(text chirping)

- What do you make of this mission, Murph?

I mean come on, it's not every day

the Mexican government turns over

one of the country's most
powerful drug lords to the U.S..

- Didn't ask, Tommy,
just following orders.

Alright gentlemen, we
move in, we move out,

we make it quick.

Any questions?

- No, sir.
- Woody?

- No, sir.
- Spencer?

- No, sir.

- Lock and load, gentlemen.

(guns clicking)
(tense music continues)

(text chirping)

Keep your eyes open.

(officer and soldier speaking Spanish)

(officers and Santos speaking Spanish)

- Senor Santos, you play
this like a gentleman,

we'll do the same.

- Four dead gentlemen, what
a waste of fine manners.

- And no smoking in the car. Tommy.

(door thuds)

(truck rumbling)

- Major, we got company.

(tense music)

Murph, we gotta move.

(gunshots cracking)
(people shouting in Spanish)

(gunfire rattling)

(soldier screams)

(gunfire cracking)

- Come on. We gotta leave him.

Let's get him on the way back.

(gunfire rattling)

(man screams)

(explosion booms)
(man screams)

Move it! Time to get
this thing outta here.

Go! Go!

(engine revving)
(gunshots popping)

(explosion booms)

(gunshots popping)

(people scream in Spanish)

(person screams)

(gunfire chattering)
(people yelling)

- Come on! Move it!

Get in.

Let's go.

(gunshots popping)

Get down!

- Gringo!
(driver groaning)

(metal crunching)

(Murphy exclaiming)

(Murphy grunting)

- [Dalton] Oh, shit!

(explosion booming)

(flames crackling)

(ominous music)

(drug runners speaking in Spanish)

(Rosato speaking Spanish)

(gunshot bangs)

(Rosato laughing)

(engine starting)

- General Oxenberg.

I'm not proud of myself, sir.

Believe me, if I had the
nerve, I'd blow my brains out.

But since I am afraid to
die, I want total immunity.

Total immunity or the deal's off.

Santos was taken out today.

You think I have time
to wait for a callback?

Check your email at the Pentagon
and get back to me soon.

(phone thuds)

- What is this shit?

What's up ese? Huh?

That's pure coke with no cut on it.

- This shit's been stepped on.
- Hey, fuck head!

You came to us, right?

Do you want this stuff or not?

- Look, we want it, but
the price is too high.

- The price is the price, asshole.

- Well we ain't gonna pay.

- Oh yeah you are.

(punch thuds)
(gangster groans)

(tense music)

(head thudding)

(bone cracks)

- Goddammit.
- Ooh.

- Right there, amigos.
Get the hell outta here.

(gangsters speaking in Spanish)

And leave the money.

(gangsters speaking in Spanish)

(bag thuds)

- I am tired of dealing with
those low-level scumbag, boys.

We gotta start thinking bigger.

It's 2300 hours.

- It's going down now, Sarge.

That's the line, I was
taking care of business.

(suspenseful music)

(phone ringing)

- Do we have a deal?
Did I get the immunity?

- Yeah, you're immune. You rat bastard.

(both chuckles)

- Stand down.

(gunshot pops)
(victim groans)

(crickets chirping)

- Fox 1 to Fox 2.
Immunity has been granted.

(dramatic suspenseful music)

(dramatic suspenseful music continues)

(dramatic suspenseful music continues)

(dramatic suspenseful music continues)

(dramatic suspenseful music continues)

- [Leo]I know those men were
like family to you, John.

- General, my men knew
the risk they were taking.

But this op was double classified.

If there was any doubt that this location

wasn't secured.
- There is always doubt,

John, you know that.

It turns out Santos' men were tipped off

by a Mexican government official

and instead of rescuing
Santos, Rosato executed him.

- Well maybe it's time you tell me

why we were so interested in
Santos to begin with, sir.

- Come on in.

- [PA] Colonel McDonald, please report

to the records section, Colonel McDonald.

- Major.

- I believe you know everyone, John.

- Major.
- Have a seat.

Ricardo Santos, the Mexican drug lord

we were attempting to extradite.

We were hoping Santos
would provide information

regarding payoffs to American soldiers

patrolling the Cal-Mex border.

As it turns out, he was assassinated

by this man, Emilio Rosato.

Santos's second in command.

He was sent in to rescue
him, killed him instead,

and took over his operation.

What we're gonna show you now, Major,

are the soldiers that we believe benefited

from the attack on your unit.

This is Sergeant Michael S. Gammon,

U.S. Army stationed at Fort Tillman.

- Gammon.

He was given a silver star
after Desert Storm, wasn't he?

Rescued a ward full of patients

from a hospital during a Scud attack?

- That's right.

Gammon was a solid career man

until a nervous
breakdown three years ago.

He was on medical for a while,

returned in excellent condition,

but he was overlooked for a promotion.

- Why?
- He cracked.

Cracks can be patched, Major,

but the weak spot's always there.

Corporals Theodore Knox,
Nicholas Castellano,

Richard P. Henderson,
all stationed at Tillman.

Fairly clean records

although Castellano came into
the Army as a problem child.

Knox is Gammon's shadow,
Henderson is his right hand.

These snapshots were sent to us

courtesy of Lieutenant Stephen Doyle,

also stationed at Fort Tillman.

Seems that, uh, Gammon and
company have been getting fat

taking payoffs from Santos
on the Mexican border.

They probably already
cut a deal with Rosato.

- That sounds like a case
for Internal Affairs, sir.

Not Army Intelligence.

- John, you're the best there is.

South America. Bosnia.

No one's record even comes close.

- With all due respect, sir.

Busting fellow soldiers is not my forte.

- This is not a case of
simple border corruption.

Lieutenant Doyle has
already admitted involvement

in drug trafficking and racketeering.

He was gonna testify in
exchange for immunity.

Gammon and his men are selling
drugs to the local dealers

and U.S. munitions to a
major cocaine distributor.

- Lieutenant Doyle called us last night

from his office on the base.

Shortly thereafter, he was murdered.

(somber music)

- This is a very grave and
delicate situation, Major.

We need your help.

- Who's commanding the base?

- Brigadier General Albert Becker.

- You think he's involved?

- Well that's what we
want you to find out.

- Lieutenant Andrews will be
your contact in California.

I believe you two have
worked together before.

- Yes, sir we have, in the Philippines.

It was hot.

- You'll be wearing a
wire this time, Major.

So try not to sweat.

- Good morning, Lieutenant.
(text chirping)

(motorbike rumbling)

Papers.

- Yeah.

(serious music)
- Thank you. Have a good day.

- You're welcome.

(engine revving)

- Nice bike.

(serious music continues)

♪ C-130 rolling down the strip ♪

♪ Airborne Ranger, gonna
take a little trip ♪

- [Group] 21, 22, 24,

25, 26, 27.

♪ C-130 rolling down the strip ♪

♪ Airborne Ranger, gonna
take a little trip ♪

(Becker laughing)

- Quite a character you
are, Corporal Dalton.

- [Dalton] Sir.

- Your record here has more
spots on it than a dalmatian.

- Sir.

- But then I suppose if you
were an exemplary soldier,

they wouldn't ask us to straighten
you out now, would they?

- No, sir.

- I'm well aware of the fact
that I am an officer, son.

When I need a reminder, I
will send for the president.

Now you gonna behave yourself
in our fine base here,

hmm, Corporal Dalton?

- I'll try, General.

- (chuckles) You'll try.

You are gonna try.

Let me tell you something, son.

I will bust your ass
down to a buck private

you fuck up here.

The bullshit stops here, comprende?

- Comprende, General.

- Good. That'll be all.

(foreboding music)

- [Gammon] The first
four strikes, gentlemen.

One, two, three, four.
(sticks clacking)

Again, pick up.

One, two, three, four. Pick up.

One, two, three, four.
- Get him. Get him.

- [Gammon] Once again, full speed.

One, two, three.
(sticks clacking)

Castellano, you're up.
- Yes, sir.

(sticks clacking)
(soldiers grunting)

- Again!

- Good morning, Sergeant

Corporal John Dalton reporting.

Colonel Becker assigned me to your unit.

Thought I might do well here.

- Everybody does well
in my unit, Corporal.

You'll come to find that out.

Stand easy.

Tell you what, since it's
your first day and all.

We'll take it easy on you. How about that?

- Yes, Sergeant.

- Knox! Front and center.

Corporal Knox. Corporal Dalton.

I'd like you to show
this man how to fight.

Gentlemen, center of the pit.

Corporal Dalton, square your
gear away on the ground.

- Yes, Sergeant.

- Show him how it's done, big daddy.

- Dalton, heads up.

- Who the fuck is this guy, Sarge?

- If you go left, all you gotta do

is block with your arm there.

(stick thuds)
(Knox grunts)

(tense music)

(sticks clacking)
(Dalton and Knox grunting)

(Knox laughs)

(Knox and Dalton grunting)

(blows thudding)

- Give.

- Woo!
- Be sweet now, Knoxie.

- [Gammon] Knox, watch your back!

(Knox grunting)

(soldiers cheering)
- Good job, buddy.

- [Soldier] Yeah.

- Henderson, Castellano, in.

- Fuck you.

(blows thudding)
(Dalton grunts)

Come on.

Come on, come on, come on!

(fighters grunting)

(blows thudding)

- You wanna die, you son of a bitch? Huh?

(Henderson and Dalton grunting)

- You wanna take this all
the way, sweetheart? Huh?

- Let him go, Dalton.

- You don't shovel shit.

- Dalton, stand down. Let
him go, Corporal Dalton!

Now, goddammit!

- I'm gonna skin you next time.

- We'll see.

- Thanks for taking it
easy on me today, Sarge.

Permission to wash up, Sergeant.

- Dismissed. Get the hell outta here.

(ominous music)

What the hell happened you all? Huh?

- Lucky bastard.

(helicopter buzzing outside)

(ominous music continues)

(tape squeaking)

-[Dalton] You wanna take
this all the way, sweetheart?

Huh? Huh?

- [Henderson] You don't shovel shit.

- Let him go, Dalton.

Dalton!
(fists knocking)

Hey, we got an assignment.
Get your gear together.

Let's go. ASAP.

Put a goddamn fire in it man. Come on!

(Humvee rumbling)

As you were.

Alright, gentlemen, listen up.

New man briefing.

I wanna stress the significance

of our responsibilities out here.

We patrol the California-Mexican border

in an effort to deter
and, if necessary, detain

any nefarious alien personnel attempting

to cross the borders of this fine country

without proper documentation.

i.e. drug dealers, desperadoes
or general scumbags.

Dalton, you have any questions?

- No, Sergeant.

- Good.

First assignment.
Henderson, Knox, Castellano.

I want y'all to take the
left sector over here.

You have any questions?

- No, sir.
- No, sir.

- Alright, I'm gonna partner up

with old Jackie Chan over here

while you boys finish licking your wounds.

- Yes, Sergeant.

- Now Dalton, I paid attention today.

I've read your 201 file.

Now it's no coincidence
that you're in my squad.

I'm gonna make you or I'm gonna break you.

And one other thing you should know,

kissing ass just pisses
me right the hell off.

- Well, I was just being polite, Sergeant.

I'd never think of kissing your ass.

- You see there, boys, a little
humor can be very disarming.

Just don't fuck up my
squad, Dalton, you got that?

- Yes, Sergeant.

- Now what are you ladies waiting
for, a goddamn invitation?

Move out and draw fire.

(ominous music)

Careful, Knox or he might
whoop your ass again.

Dalton, come on.

(Humvee rumbling)

Take these. Keep an eye
on that ridge out there.

Beer. It's not a question, it's an order.

- Thanks, Sarge.

Still learning how to read the shorthand.

- Well, lemme make it easy on you.

You see out here, I'm the big dick.

General Becker likes me, respects me.

Lets me run my unit the way I see fit.

Now I'll tell you what, Dalton,
listen to what I tell you,

follow orders, I swear to God, Dalton,

you're not gonna believe how
good you have it around here.

- Well, here's to having it good.

- Well, by God, I'll drink to that.

(cans clink)

- [Radio] Fox 1, this is Fox 2. All clear.

- Fox 2 this is Fox 1. Roger that.

Same sit rep here. Over.

- I think we got something,
Sarge. 10 o'clock.

- I see him.
(intense music)

Fox 2 this is Fox 1, over.

We got a land lizard running
the ridge, check them out.

- [Radio] Roger that.

- Alright, Dalton. Now
this may be nothing.

Just follow my lead. Understand?

- You got it, Sarge.

- Dalton, alcohol and
firearms, they don't mix.

Get rid of that beer.

(Humvee rumbling)

(brakes squeaking)

Alright, amigos, United States Army.

Step from the vehicle, get
your hands where I can see 'em.

Get 'em up.

(speaks Spanish) Put your hands up.

Go on, put your hands where
I can see 'em. Get 'em up.

- I don't believe this, ese.

Is this some kind of fucking joke?

(driver grunts)

- This feel like a fucking joke, ese?

Castellano.

- Nice work, Dalton. We
all could have been killed.

- Alright, Corporal. That's enough.

Lemme see some paperwork, amigo.

Come on. Hurry up.

- (chuckles) Did I miss something, amigo?

- Play along. You and me.

Tell Rosato we'll make it
up to him and Pablo. Okay?

- Hey, Sergeant.

We got something.

- What do you got?

What's the story, amigo?

- (chuckles) I don't know what that is.

- This help you figure it out?

- Alright, pat him down.

Pat him down.

Turn around. Face the truck.

Hands on the truck.

Pat him down.

- I don't believe this shit.
Hey man, what the fuck?

(driver grunts)
(blow thuds)

(drug runners yelling)

- You are attempting to
bring illegal substances

into the United States of America

and you are being busted.

So if I were you,

I would show this here
sergeant some respect.

- I'm sorry, Sarge.

- Alright gentlemen, let's take 'em in.

Amigos, put your hands on your heads.

(Henderson speaks in Spanish)

- Get up.

- Come on. Come on, you'll live.

- Hands on your heads.
(Henderson speaks Spanish)

- Get 'em in the back of the Humvee.

Knox. Log this as contraband.

- Hey, Sergeant, I got
no love for these roaches

or the paperwork that goes with the bust.

I say we earned this money.

But it is your unit.

(Gammon chuckles)

- Well. Let go.

Thank you.

Tell you what,

we'll just have Knox log
this with the contraband.

Knox!
- Yes, Sarge.

- Log this with the contraband.

- Yes, sir.
- Thank you.

Damn fine bust, Dalton.

Remind me to buy you a cocktail.

- I'll do that, Sergeant.

(upbeat music)

- Hey, Dave.

- What's up there, handsome?

- [Henderson] Oh, I think I done died

and gone to heaven, Knox.

Mm.
- I see, I see.

- [Henderson] Baby.
Shake your money maker.

- [Dalton] This is a good whiskey.

- Ought to be. That's my personal stock.

- [Dalton] Hey, Sarge,
can I ask you something?

- Sure. Ask away.

- You didn't keep that roll of cash.

- You know how many
years I have in the Army?

Damn near 10.

Signed up when I was 17.

And all that time,

never occurred to me even
once to break a rule.

Be damned if I sell my
soul for a wad of cash.

See, I'm trying to build
something here, Dalton.

These guys here, Henderson, the others,

they don't really get me. (chuckles)

They do what I say, but, uh...

Now, fuck all that shit.
I wanna hear about you.

What drew you into the Army?

- My old man.

(sighs) He ran black ops for the agency

when there was a point to it.

Did more for his country
than most four-star generals.

He's not even buried in Arlington.

You know, I figured at least in the Army

I'd get a medal or two.

Be a hero on the record.

But I've, uh, had a problem
with some of the rules.

(John chuckles)

- Well this gig didn't exactly turn out

the way I expected either.

So when you talk to me about
rules, I'll tell you this.

Rule number one, you
look out for number one.

'Cause at the end of the day, Dalton,

you and me, we ain't no
different than your daddy was.

We can't count on the goddamn suits

and we can't count on the Army.

All we got is each other.

But don't mind me.

I always get a little weepy
when I've been drinking.

You know what, amigo?
It's still pretty early.

Why don't we get you one

of these, uh, pretty
little senoritas over here,

help you forget about this bullshit.

- Say, I think you're right,
Sarge. Thanks for the drink.

- Pleasure.

- Hey, Sarge,

for what it's worth, I get you.

- Outstanding, Dalton. Outstanding.

- And Oxenberg was right.

Gammon isn't just running
a small-time operation.

- Have you seen something?

- It's my instinct more than anything.

First night on,

we stopped a couple of
Rosato's men at the border.

Gammon played it straight,

but I'm pretty sure they have a deal.

A few days later, Gammon ran
the same patrol without me.

- John, that means he doesn't trust you.

- He doesn't trust me yet.

Every day I'm getting
closer. You know why?

Because he likes me.

(Kelly sighs)

In a strange way, I kind of like him.

- Well, don't get too fond of him, John.

Either way, it seems to me
that you'll be taking him down.

- Hey, Henderson, you know what I hear

about these big muscle heads?

- What's that, Cassie?

- I hear it's a sign of a
pent up sexual frustration.

(Knox grunting)

Too big, boy?

Oh, Sarge.
- Carry on boys. Carry on.

So y'all enjoying your free time?

- Staying lean and mean like
a fighting machine, Sarge.

- Outstanding, Knox.

Look, I have a few exercises planned

to help y'all work off
those extra calories.

Think you might be interested, Dalton?

- Yes, Sergeant.

- How we all think?

Think yeah? Good.

Now, Dalton, you're aware these exercises

have been devised outside
of base curriculum.

Participation is not mandatory.

(foreboding music)

You see what I'm saying?

- I see what you're saying, Sarge.

- Very good. Let's gear up
and get outta here, boys.

(Humvee rumbling)

Let's go, boys.

(foreboding music)

Alright, you can handle
this now, can't you?

- Yes, sir.

- Alright, boys.

- Turn around. Turn around.

Chill out.

Like that, pretty boy?

- Check him good.

- Hey!
- Chill.

- He's clean, Sarge.

- Of course I'm clean.

- Just precaution is all.

You see, this is a a very
delicate time for us all.

Very important time.

It's not that we don't trust you, Dalton.

We just gotta be sure.

And besides, you're the one

said your old man was a spook, right?

- That's right. But I'm not him.

- Well, I believe you.
Get yourself squared away.

Alright boys, let's get
down to business here.

Now Rosato is cool with the bust.

Alright? No big fucking deal.

Now these amigos coming in are
Pablo's boys, not Rosato's.

Alright? They're coming
with the usual payroll.

Now what they're expecting,

they're expecting us to take
the cash, swap out the plates,

and let 'em roll on through as usual.

But I say, why the hell should
we settle for a damn payoff

when the big money is in
delivery and distribution?

I say we take over L.A.
Take it away from Pablo.

What do you say?
- Yes, sir.

- What do you say boys?

- [All] Yes, sir.

- Don't call me, sir. I
work for a goddamn living.

Alright, they should be
popping in here anytime.

(brooding music)

(truck rumbling)

- Hold up, amigo.
- Okay, you guys

in the back of the truck.

Come on down, ese. Step down.

Come on down. Get down here.
- Step on down.

- You heard me. Come on.
- Come on down.

- [Knox] Over there.

- Hold on, amigos.

There will be no bust today, compadre.

(drug runner speaks Spanish)

- How are you? Have you
got something for me?

Ah, dinero. (speaks Spanish)

Henderson here is gonna
take good care of you.

(drug runner speaks Spanish)

- You see, we feel so bad
about busting your compadres

that we're gonna help you
boys realize a lifelong dream.

- What dream?

- See, we're gonna bury you
right here in the United States.

(ominous music)

(drug runner yells in Spanish)

(gunshots banging)
(drug runners groaning)

(subdued tense music)

(drug runner groaning)

- Guess I owe you one, Dalton.

- [Gammon] How we doing
back there, Castellano?

- Truck's all clear, Sarge.

- Henderson?

(gunshots banging)

- [Henderson] All clear, Sarge.

(solemn music)

- [Gammon] Alright, boys, what do you got?

- Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo. Mother load!

- Fucking jackpot!
- Outstanding, boys.

Alright, let's get this case offloaded

and put back on the Humvee here.

Time for phase two, delivery to Pablo.

Good work. Dalton. Come
on, on the Humvees.

- Thanks, Castellano.

- Just taking care of business, bro.

(dramatic suspenseful music)

- Okay gentlemen, this is it.

Now there's nothing wrong with
boosting a couple weapons,

but we got scumbags like Pablo
making millions of dollars

distributing drugs in Los Angeles.

Now we got three things that he doesn't.

Balls and a perfect cover.

From here on out we're players.

This is war.

We win or we die.

Time to lock, cock, and
ready to rock, boys.

(serious music)
(guns clicking)

We're moving on up to the east side.

Time to get our piece of pie.

(water splashing)

(serious music continues)

- [Gammon] Careful there.

- [Pablo] New shipment, Gammon?

I see the excitement
hasn't slowed you down.

- Oh, quite the contrary.

You got my money?

- Open the truck.

- Dalton give him a hand.

(ominous music)

- Very nice. Pay the man, Ray.

(Gammon's throat clears)

- It's about 50 short, isn't it?

- What do you mean 50
short? The deal was 25.

- Yeah, for the weapons.

What about the cocaine?

- What fucking cocaine?

- Dalton.

- Ray, do you know anything about cocaine?

It was about guns, right?

Where did you get that?

- Rosato supplies the drugs.

But I now control the pipeline.

Pedro.
- It's Pablo.

- Shut the hell up, Pedro.

I am the man now. Understand?

Comprende?

From now on I will
deliver the drugs to you

and you will distribute them for me.

Now if you got a problem with that, Pedro,

we can turn this whole operation of yours

into one big graveyard.

Tick-tock, Tick-tock, Pedro.

Make up your mind.

I am a busy man.

- No, papito, you're a
fucking dead man. Matero.

(gunfire banging)

(drug runner groaning)

(gunshots popping)

(drug runners groaning)

(drug runner gags)
(flesh squelches)

(body thuds)

Roberto, Manuel. (speaking Spanish)

(Henderson whistling)

- Sorry, homes, Roberto and Manuel

they're, uh, they're taking a siesta.

(dark music)

- Oops. Where the hell did
they come from? (laughs)

Put your hands up, Pedro.

Put your hands up. Come on, Pedro.

Put 'em up here.

- Pablo, take the man's deal.

Let's get outta here
before both of us are dead.

- He knows better than to kill me.

I have soldiers in my army
that will hunt you down

and they will slaughter
you like a dumb animal.

- Well, I, I think you're seriously

overestimating your troops'
affection for you, Pedro.

I do.

Knox.

(gunshot bangs)
(Pablo groans)

Is there any blood on my face, Ray?

Is there any more blood on my face?

So what do you say, Ray?

Think you can run this operation for me?

- (laughs nervously) Sure.

(keys jingle)

There's 300 G's in the trunk.

Apply the balance to the next shipment

and take the goddamn car.

After all, you're the man.

- I'm the man, Ray. I'm the man.

Gracias, amigo. I'll see you next week.

Let's go boys.

Oh, Ray. Here.

Get yourself some decent
bodyguards. This ain't no disco.

(car doors thudding)

(motorbike rumbling)

(crickets chirping)

(knuckles knocking)

(door clicks)

- I got a present for you.

- What's on it?

- My greatest hits.

Listen to me murder drug runners.

Steal and sell military weapons.

Hell, I do it all.

- Do we have anything on Becker?

- Not yet.

- Listen, John, um,

they want you to stay in
just a little bit longer,

just to make sure that the
ladder stops at Gammon.

- I figured that.

- Look, John.

You realize that the
only people besides us

who know that you went undercover

were the men who briefed you.

- Meaning that there's no backup.

That if things get too dangerous
they'll just cut me loose.

- I wouldn't do that and
neither would General Oxenberg.

- You know it's funny, Kelly,

it's funny that the only
guys watching my back

are the ones I'm trying to bust.

(Kelly sighs)

- So you told Ray and his people in L.A.

that we'd be sweetening
the pot this month?

- Yep.

- What about Rosato's crew? Huh?

(guns clicking)
- It's in the works.

Right, Dalton?

- You got it, Sarge. Sometime this week.

(Castellano mimics gunshot)

- Besides we're minimizing his damn risk.

'Cause we're only taking a
small bite for our troubles.

Trust me.

There'll be other losses, compadres.

It's about time, Henderson.

About to starve to
fucking death over here.

- I had to go to three fucking stores

to get that ice cream you like, Sarge.

- Outstanding, Corporal Henderson.

You know, sometimes I
squint my eyes a little bit,

an apron and some tits,
you could be my mother.

- Oh, is that right?

You know I hear I can have
my way with your mom's ass,

all night long if I want for five bucks.

- Yeah, but she's worth every penny of it.

Get that piece of shit outta my face.

- Stop fucking around, you two.

Henderson, put your ass in the seat.

Knox, sit your ass down.

I wanna talk to y'all about something.

(subdued music)

You know, it took me a long time

to decide what it is I
wanna do in this life.

For a while there, I thought, uh,

I wanted a chest full of medals

and the love of my countrymen.

Hell, even for a little while there

I thought it was money and power.

But, uh, I now know what it is
I want most out of this life.

And that is a legacy.

I want someone to say,

"I have what I have
because of Michael Gammon.

Everything that I am and
everything that I will be

is because of that man."

Now that sounds pretty
damn simple, don't it?

But I cannot leave a legacy

to someone that I do not trust.

I am a devoted and generous father.

But I am unloved.

Unloved because what I have to offer

was not good enough.

A legacy, my legacy

was not good enough.

You goddamn motherfucker!

(tense music)

(gunshot pops)

- Goddamn!
(subdued music)

- He made a side deal with Ray.

A little cocaine off the fucking top.

Now I expect that kind
of bullshit from Ray.

But Henderson?

Fuck.

Nothing gets past me. Not a goddamn thing.

Now I hope you assholes
understand that now.

Dalton, let's go.

And grab my fucking ice cream.

(gun clicks)
(shell clinking)

Knox, clean this piece of shit up.

- He's lost his fucking mind.

-Private Calabrese, I
have just been informed

that Corporal Richard P.
Henderson has been found dead.

It seems that he has taken his own life.

Now we will need to notify his parents

and make the necessary
funeral arrangements.

(exhales sharply) It's a shame
what happened to that boy.

Such a promising young soldier.

- [Calabrese] Yes sir, General.

- When Richard Phillip Henderson
was placed in my command

he reported to this base
with his parents at his side.

(solemn music)

You asked me to take
good care of your boy.

You were proud of your son
and you had every right to be.

We soldiers are a dedicated lot.

And we are held to a higher standard.

We train long and hard

and we reach for a level of perfection

that is bound to exceed our grasp.

The pressure is never ending.

And sometimes we fail to
see the signs of one who is,

who's overwhelmed by that burden.

Rick Henderson's life may have
been ended by his own hand,

but this was not in any way his failure.

It was ours.

I ask his forgiveness and yours

and let us pray that your boy

will watch over us from heaven.

- Alright gentlemen, listen up.

This is the one that's
gonna put us on the map.

Jose Malo, the unofficial
godfather of East L.A.

Direct competition with us.

Now Pablo was too weak to take him on,

but we on the other hand,
are not too weak, are we?

- No, sir.

- Castellano?

- Another dead wetback, Sarge.

- What do you say, Dalton?

- He's ours.

- Outstanding, gentlemen. Outstanding.

(moody music)
(text chirping)

(people speaking Spanish)

(van revving)
(tires screeching)

(tense music)
(gunfire chattering)

(gangsters screaming)

- Go!

(gangsters yelling)
(gunfire chattering)

- Clear on the right.
- Clear!

Go.

(gunfire chattering)
(gangster groans)

- Watch out! Here we go.

(gunfire chattering)
(gangsters groaning)

(gunfire chattering)
(gangsters groaning)

(guns clicking)

- Left, clear.
- Right, clear.

- All clear. Move out.

Let's go, Dalton. Move it.

Move your ass, goddammit.

(intense music continues)

- Clear.
- Go, go!

- Clear.
- Let's go.

Let's get the hell out of Dodge.

Hustle it up. Alright.

- The truck. Come on, move out, move out!

- Go, go, go. Watch your backs.

Alright. Let's get out of here.

That was fun.
(tires screeching)

(upbeat music)

Gentlemen, you honored yourselves today.

You fought bravely and nobly.

And hell, I'm not gonna mince words.

You kicked some bad motherfucking ass.

I'm proud of you.

- I believe that.

- Hell, I watched y'all in awe.

And you know what the
thing I was most proud of,

you did not kill for the
sake of some outdated ideal,

you killed, like me, because
you believe in your future,

a future that America
can no longer give us,

a future we must now take.

I propose a toast to our future.

Here's to us and those like us.

- Damn few left.

- [All] And most of them are dead.

(glasses clinking)

- Gentlemen, I shall return.

- Hey, Dalton.

Ese, I'm talking to you.

See, I think maybe we got
some unfinished business.

See, my older brother, he
died when I was a little kid.

God rest his soul.

I'll tell you, that son
of a bitch was the best.

You're my family, Dalton. All of yous.

(Castellano speaks Italian)

Oh!

Who put that chair there? (grunts)

- I better get little brother home.

- Don't forget your coat.
Go on, get some rest.

Grab a chair.

You think Malo got the message?

- I'm just wondering, the
more we expand our power base,

the more visible we become.

- You're worried about being exposed.

- Shouldn't I be?

- And Al Capone wasn't
visible? Murder Incorporated?

John Gotti, the Gambino family?

Now the world knew those boys' names.

But to touch 'em, it
took a fucking miracle.

- Sergeant, they weren't
soldiers in the U.S. Army.

I'm worried about this shit,

I'm, I'm worried about General Becker.

- Yeah, you let me worry about Becker.

You don't see him on my back, do you?

You don't see him give me
orders, do you? Do you?

(foreboding music)

- No I don't.
- That's right. You don't.

Look, I am a sergeant in
the United States Army

and during my time in service
I've learned two things:

Heroes and cowards are both buried

under the same goddamn dirt.

You know what the other one is? Fear.

Respect and fear. Same word.

Now I will be buried in Arlington one day.

But until that time,

let me be feared as the godfather of L.A.

You see what I'm saying?

(insects chirring)

- [Gammon] Now, I will be
buried in Arlington one day.

But until that time,

let me be feared as the godfather of L.A.

- Tell me this isn't enough.

You tell me this isn't better
than a signed confession.

- He didn't confess, John.

He merely theorized

about the capabilities
of the justice system.

- Bullshit.

You're feeding me bullshit
like the fucking suits.

- I'm playing the devil's advocate.

- Hey, I've been living
with the devil. Okay?

Now I'm a part of this
thing and I want it to end.

I wanna shut this ring down

before Gammon does take over L.A.

And what about my testimony?

I suppose that's just
fucking theory too, huh?

- John, hear me out. John,
just hear me out, okay?

Listen to me.

Of course we could indict Gammon

and Castellano and Knox as well.

But this is not Al Capone
we're dealing with here.

This shit is in our own backyard.

Now, I know they don't tell me everything,

but I do know Pentagon

will not go to court on this and lose.

John, just hang in there. Okay?

Just one more week. Just hang in there.

(gentle music)

And if this top man theory
doesn't pan out, we'll pull you.

(gentle music continues)

(gentle music continues)

- [Ray] That was some fucking
move you guys pulled on Malo.

- What's the word on the street?

- (laughs) That you're a fucking psycho.

I mean you, you came out of nowhere,

you're running guns, shit like that.

What the fuck?

- Balls. We've got balls, Ray.

That's all anybody needs to know.

- Yeah, but I've got the
heat coming down on me.

Malo had friends out there.

I've had to double security.
- I told you I would take care

of your goddamn security, now didn't I?

- Malo was from the neighborhood. I'm not.

And you're not either.

- So what you're telling me then, Ray,

is that I'm being discriminated against.

Is that what you're telling me?

That's funny, Ray. That's a good one.

Dalton, remind me to call my lawyer.

We just may have to sue.

- You got it, Sarge.

- You be a good boy,
Ray. (mimics gun shot)

And, um, call me when you got
something important to say.

(subdued music)

Nice shirt. Let's go, Dalton.

- Hey, Dalton.

I'm glad he's getting such
a kick out of all this,

but I got people out there
with a real beef against me.

- You should have stuck with
accounting, Ray. Much safer.

- Man, don't patronize me.

I know what I'm doing or
I'd be dead just like Pablo.

I'm telling you, Gammon's
about to step on his own dick

and it's up to you to try to rein him in.

Alright?

- I'll do what I can, Ray.

- Dalton?

Anytime.

(ominous music)

I think Ray is a fucking weasel, man.

And it's only because of my good graces

that little bastard's still breathing.

- He was just relaying his
security issues, which I-

- What does he think I forgot

about that butt fuck with Henderson?

Is that what he thinks?
The man's a weasel.

Don't worry about Ray.

We're gonna get rid of Ray
before too long. Trust me.

- Sarge, you kill Ray,

you might as well retire from the Army

to run the drug business.

(tires screeching)

Hey, what the hell are you doing?

- Are you with me, Dalton?

'Cause I'm getting ready to
go into a meeting with Rosato

and I do not want that man

to see any dissension in my ranks.

Are you with me?

- Yes.

- Get out.

Get the hell out now. Get
outta the goddamn car.

Get the hell outta here now.

- What the fuck is going on? Huh?

(tense music)

- Goddamn you. Shoot me.

Take it. Shoot me!

Take the fucking gun and shoot me

because there's no out
for you here, Dalton.

I got too much invested in your ass.

Now if you're not with me,

you better stop my clock right now,

because I swear to God
I'm gonna shoot you dead.

I ain't playing no fucking game.

(engine revving)
(tires chirp)

- [Rosato] So how's the L.A. operation?

- Outstanding.

With the exception of a few,

uh, loose ends that we gotta tie up.

Everything's in great shape.

- That's good news.

(cautious music)

My friend, you won't be too offended

if I borrow our amigo for a moment.

A small personal matter
I wanted to discuss.

- Not at all.

- Watch your back.

- I think you know that
I value our association.

- As do I.

- I would never tell you
how to conduct your affairs,

but I feel compelled to tell
you, on your last visit,

my man thought your compadre
Dalton looked familiar.

Today, he confirmed that
Dalton was part of the team

brought in to pick up Santos.

Those men were Army Intelligence.

I would not mention this

unless my man had been
very clear on this point.

Alejandro.

Are you certain, Alejandro,
that the man at the table

is the man you saw at Porto Diablo?

- Si, patron.

- Did any of your other
men identify Dalton?

- Very few of my men
survived the battle, but no.

- Alejandro, gracias amigo.

(gunshots banging)
(tense music)

My friend, I appreciate your concern

and your good intentions,

(serious music)

But I believe your man was mistaken.

- Vamanos, my bro, we're
outta here. Let's go.

Let's get outta here.

- [Dalton] What happened out there, Sarge?

- Don't worry about it.

- Is everything cool with Rosato?

- Like the man said,
it's a personal problem.

It's been dealt with.
It's all squared away now.

(subdued music)

So what's on your agenda tonight?

- I thought I'd go over
payroll at the hideaway

and call it a night.

- You work too hard, Dalton.

- You wanna come along?

- No, not me, compadre.

I'm the boss. Remember?

(ominous music)

(motorbike rumbling)

(suspenseful music)

- I need to talk to Oxenberg.

- Uh, Yeah. I'll just-
- I mean now.

- John, that's impossible.

- No, it's not impossible.

You pick up the phone and you dial.

Please.

(phone ringing)

(keyboard clacking)

- Oxenberg here.

- [Dalton] It's Murphy.

I want out, General, I
think I've been made.

- You're not sure?

- Something went down
at Rosato's place today.

I don't have it on tape, so don't ask.

Gammon's about to blow and
if I know him like I do,

he's on to me.

- Alright, John, take it easy.

I'm gonna get you out of there.

I gotta make a couple of phone calls

and I'll get back to you from the Pentagon

in 20 minutes, okay?

- I can't hang around long, General.

- 20 minutes.

- Okay.

- Alright. Hang in there, son.

(phone thuds)

(ominous music)

(tires screeching)

- Get in, dammit. Get in the car, come on.

- Yeah, he just left.

- Fucking, I can't believe this shit.

- Look, Sarge, we don't know
for sure Dalton's a rat.

I mean I just checked
his room top to bottom.

I couldn't find a thing. The guy's clean.

- Yeah and he was clean
when we frisked him too.

And he says all the right goddamn shit.

And he makes all the
right moves too, don't he?

- Yeah.

- I'll tell you what, Castellano.

If I find out that Dalton
has been playing me,

I'm gonna rip that boy apart
and piss on his bloody remains.

- Sarge, if he's playing
you, I'll help you do it.

But for now, maybe the best plan

is we just keep cool till
we know what's going on.

- I'll keep it cool.

I'll tell you what,
though, if he's on the job,

that boy ain't working alone.

He's got someone else out here.

What do we know about that
girl he's been seeing?

- Not a whole hell of a lot.

- Well we got some work to do then.

Let's go.

(dark music)

- Alright. I just spoke to Murphy.

Things are coming to a head.

I wanna make sure you people
can deliver serious backup.

We now know that Gammon's operation

reaches deep into the L.A. drug trade.

That's why we have to have all
of our intelligence in place

before we can make a move.

We wanna make arrests.

We do not want to take military action

on one of our own bases.

But it just may come to that.

I've given Major Murphy
12 more hours undercover.

After that, I'm bringing him in.

Lieutenant Andrews is flying
to Washington as we speak.

- Howdy, ma'am.

Boyfriend not coming around tonight?

- Do I know you?

- It's a little bit
early for work isn't it?

- Yeah. Well early bird
catches the worm, I guess.

- Oh, well, early worm gets
eaten, don't he. (teeth clack)

Look, I'm not into beating
women. I'm really not.

So why don't you just
make it easy on yourself

and tell me everything you know
about Corporal John Dalton.

- I know I prefer him to you. Excuse me.

- Wait a minute.

(punch thuds)
(intense music)

(car rumbles)

- Get her briefcase.

(motorbike rumbles)

(suspenseful music)

- [Dalton] Henderson, Gammon,
Castellano, Knox, Becker.

(suspenseful music continues)

- Gimme a hand, Castellano.
- I got her.

- Give me that other one.

You hold her up.

You got her?
- Yeah.

Come on sweetheart. Dorothy
you ain't in Kansas anymore.

- Alright.

Alright, Castellano, I want
you to go alert the MPs.

Tell 'em that Corporal Dalton is suspected

of border patrol corruption.

You got that?
- Sir.

- He is to be detained

as soon as he sets one
foot on this damn base.

- Got it.
- Alright, go.

- You, uh, you gonna
call General Becker, sir?

- When I get around to
it. Is that okay with you?

- You're the boss.
- That's right.

Okay, now listen up.

If you scream, I'm just gonna
have to put a big old piece

of duct tape on these pretty
little lips of yours, okay?

You talk to me nice,

you just might live long enough

to help me get outta here, okay?

Alright.

Now, in a perfect world

that is all the evidence
that you have against me.

Tell me, baby doll, is
this a perfect world?

Is it a perfect world, baby doll? Tell me.

- Not from where I stand.

(gun clicking)

(punch thuds)
(Kelly groans)

- Do not smart mouth me, you
government-issued piece of ass.

Okay?

Now just in case you
missed those previews.

(punch thuds)

Now I am definitely not the poster boy

for political correctness and
I will beat your ass bloody

if you do not make yourself useful.

Now I'm gonna ask you
one more time nicely.

Where is Dalton and does
he have any more evidence?

- I don't know where Dalton is.

But I do know one thing.

When he comes back, he will kill you.

- We'll see.

(crickets chirping)

(suspenseful music)
(gravel crunching)

(Dalton grunts)

- Put your fucking hands
where I can see 'em.

Show's over, Dalton, or
whoever the fuck you are.

(laughs) Rosato's boy made you

and Castellano just radioed me

saying Gammon's got your girl. (laughs)

I'm supposed to save you for Gammon,

but I feel good to do you right now.

- I don't suppose you feel
like going hand to hand,

like a man.

- No. You're tougher, Dalton.

We all know that.

But guess what, I've got the gun. (laughs)

(Dalton laughs)

(Knox grunts)

(Knox and Dalton grunting)
(blows thudding)

(pipe clatters)

(Knox and Dalton grunting)
(blows thudding)

(tense music continues)

(Knox and Dalton grunting)
(blows thudding)

(gunshots booming)

(subdued music)

- Sarge.

I've been all over the base.

I alerted every MP but nobody
has seen the son of a bitch.

It's like he's a ghost.

- [Gammon] What about Knox?

- I can't raise him on the radio.

Looks like somebody ain't
been too cooperative. Huh?

(serious music)

- Hey, I think that's Dalton.
- That's him.

- Halt!
- Halt!

- Freeze!
- Halt!

We have orders to detain
you, Corporal Dalton.

Out of the vehicle.

Raise 'em.

(blows thudding)
(guards grunt)

- I am waiting for information.

- Yeah, I just sent Knox
over to the hideaway, sir,

I have not heard back from him yet.

- What about Dalton's girlfriend?

- Well, the little bitch won't talk to me,

but they got more information
than what she had on her.

They got to, sir.

- You know, Mike, when
we got into this thing,

I thought I was making a smart move

by hanging out in the shadows.

But you have fucked
things up so royally here

I am beginning to regret my decision.

-[Gammon] What are you
so nervous about, General?

Your name has never
been mentioned on tape.

The only person that knows

you're behind this operation is me.

- You know, Mike-

- Now you take care of me,
sir. I take care of you.

- Don't you lay that loyal
bullshit on me, dammit.

You'd sell your own mother if you had to.

Now you find this rat Dalton.

You put a bullet in him
before he takes us all down.

- It may be too late, General.

Step away from your desk.

- You are, you are misinterpreting

the situation here, Corporal.

- Am I? We'll just have to sort
it out at the court martial.

- I, I have, I have done nothing wrong.

- Gammon's gotta a hold of my partner

so you're gonna take me to her,
or I'll put a bullet in you.

(gunshots banging)

(Becker groaning)

(Becker sputters)

(solemn music)

Where is she?

You can still die with
some honor, General.

- She's, she's boiler room.

(phone ringing)

- Yeah. Gammon here.

- [Soldier] Sergeant Gammon,

Corporal Dalton just shot General Becker.

- Shit. Roger that.

You sit tight sweet pea.
We'll be right back.

Let's go.
(suspenseful music)

- Yeah, this is the one.
- This is Dalton's jeep.

(intense music)

(gunfire chattering)
(soldiers yelling)

(engine revving)

- Stop, stop! Hey, get out.

Stop! Get out!

Move it, move it!

Get out.

All of you. All of you.

Let's go, Castellano.

- Right behind you.

- Undo that hatch. We
ain't got all damn day.

- [Castellano] You betcha, Sarge.

- Faster, Castellano.

(gunfire chattering)

(tires screeching)

(explosion booms)

(tires screech)

Goddammit.

Come on, Castellano, faster!

(explosion booms)

Come on, Castellano! Can't
you drive this goddamn thing?

(explosion booms)

(explosion booms)
(tires screech)

(metal crunches)

We got him.

Come on, Dalton. Hold it.

(explosions booming)

(explosion booming)

(tank rumbling)

Let's move, Castellano. Out.

Get your wop ass out. Come on.

(gunfire chattering)

Take care of Dalton, I want him dead.

(gunfire chattering)

(tense music)

- [Dalton] Drop your weapon, Corporal.

- I got a better idea, Dalton.

- We don't have to do this.

- You fucking rat.

Fucking stabbed us in the back.

(gunfire chattering)

- You think Gammon cares about you?

He cares about you like
he cared about Henderson.

- Henderson was a rat just like you.

And he got what he deserved.

(gunfire chattering)

- Gammon's going down, Castellano.

He's going down. He's gonna
take you down with him.

This is your last chance.

Throw down your weapon.

- Alright. You wanna throw down?

Let's throw down.

(gunfire chattering)

(tense music continues)

(tense music continues)

- Freeze!

Drop your weapon.

(gunfire chattering)

(Castellano groans)

(subdued tense music)

- Slow down, compadre.

Slow down.

Now what the hell kind of soldier are you?

No damn loyalty.

- Loyalty? You're the
reason your men are dead.

You're full of shit, Gammon.
You're not even a soldier.

You're a drug dealer and you've lost.

- I didn't lose shit.

I still got my pistola, compadre.

Now be a good boy and drop your weapon

so me and my new lady friend
here can walk outta here.

And who knows? I may even let her live.

Now drop your weapon!

I will blow her head off.

Come, be a good boy.

(rifle clattering)

- Alright, Sarge, shoot me.

- That's an outstanding idea.

- Now!

(blows thudding)
(intense music)

(Gammon and Dalton grunting)

(Kelly grunts)

You bitch.

Come here!

(both grunting)
(blows thudding)

(Gammon yelling)

(both grunting)
(blows thudding)

(blows thudding)

(Gammon growls)
(tense music continues)

(Gammon yells)
(ax whooshes)

(Dalton grunts)

(both grunting)
(blows thudding)

(Dalton yells)
(ax whooshing)

(Dalton yells)
(flesh squelches)

(electricity crackles)
(Gammon groans)

(Gammon thuds)

(solemn music)

- You okay?

- Yeah.

(fire crackling)

- Let's get outta here.

(somber music)

(serious dramatic music)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(dramatic music continues)

(solemn trumpet music)

(solemn trumpet music continues)