Original subtitles

Widow 12, Foxtrot 217.

Nothing seen. We are RTB and Bingo.

Foxtrot 217, Widow 12 all copied.

Safe trip home. Contact Zeus for routing.

Foxtrot 217 switching Zeus.

Johnson, let base know we are inbound, ETA minute 25.

I'll tell them to put the kettle on.

Make mine a pint.

Missile launch. 9 o'clock.

Break right.

Flares.

Thanks, Mum.

Dream of flying.

I can't control.

Losing altitude.

Eject. Eject!

Sinclair, it's me.

You're okay.

I'm sorry for the inconvenience.

Mayday, mayday.

This is Foxtrot 217. Does anybody copy? Over.

Mayday, mayday. This is Foxtrot 217. Do you copy?

This is Foxtrot 217 transmitting in the blind.

My aircraft is down and my WSO is dead.

The crash site is hot.

Repeat. The crash site is hot.

I can't stay here.

Initiating evasion plan. Out.

Look at that.

Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck! Did you see that?

Look alive, people. Possible target on our 12.

Everett, get on the deuce. Serano, hit the lights.

For fuck's sake. Friendly!

Is that a woman?

Calm down, Casanova.

Corporal, go check her out. Serano, take the back.

- Everett, eyes open. - On it, Sarge.

Great going, you morons.

Show us your hands!

Do I look like a fucking insurgent?

Gun.

- We're not safe here. - Tell me about it.

- We have to go. - Quicker we get this done,

- quicker we can get out of here. - You have to listen to me.

- Identify yourself. - Flight Lieutenant Sinclair,

Royal Air Force.

- She checks out. - Our missing pilot.

You're God damn lucky we found you out here.

- Hey, that's mine! - Back off!

- Lafayette, take it easy. - She's clear.

Are you deaf or just fucking dumb?

We can't stay here!

- Serano? - I got nothing.

Take a breath, Captain. We got you.

Located the crash site,

found your WSO along with four enemy KIA.

We got you to thank for that?

I can't take all the credit.

Johnson bagged all of them, saving my life.

Well, you did good getting this far.

We'd just about given up on you.

Come on.

What a good job you did.

Do I have a story to tell you.

All right. All right. Serano, get her in the vehicle.

Patch her up on the way.

Lafayette, let's go.

Welcome to Second Ranger Battalion

Forward Operations Base, Camp Cooper.

Did anyone contact my CO?

I need to get word to my family.

Soon as you were picked up.

Family know you're safe.

Just let the doc take a look at that wound.

After I talk to your CI.

Captain, we're all a little mad here.

Hell, you'd have to be crazy not to be.

A lot's happened in the past 24 hours.

This place has gone from a ghost town to slap bang

in the middle of the biggest insurgent mobilization

this sector has seen in years.

Shooting down your aircraft was just the opening salvo.

Sir, I've flown 28 combat missions in three tours,

and yesterday I was shot down, crashed in the desert,

and hunted by men that wanted to cut my head off

and post it on YouTube.

But none of that scared me

half as much as what I saw in that bunker.

Captain, I don't doubt your credentials,

but given the present situation,

the safety of my men is paramount.

Now, this place may not look like much,

but despite appearances,

I like to run a tight ship.

Patrol's coming in.

Now, we were winding down operations here,

but now this new insurgency requires the full extent

of what little resources I have.

Everything else takes a back seat.

- Cheers. - After what I saw last night,

I'd say insurgents are the least of your worries.

Listen, I get it.

The violence they're capable of.

The terror.

It's easy to see them as monsters, but they're just men.

This was no fucking man, sir.

I saw it rip a man's face from his skull.

It had claws the size of a grizzly bear.

- Major. - Sergeant.

Our British friends picked up a terry on patrol.

Could be one of the group that brought down

the captain's aircraft.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Let's see what we can get out of him.

Oh, they didn't happen to come across

any secret Russian bunkers, did they?

Sir?

It's there.

I can take you right to it.

Captain, what combat experience have you had?

Well, I made it this far.

I've seen her handiwork, sir.

I can vouch for her.

Cool your heels, Sergeant.

Ain't nobody going no place.

Sir, if you're not prepared to take this threat seriously,

then do me a favor and get me on the first ride out.

I wish I could, believe me.

We already evac'd all nonessentials,

and they won't send another bird until things cool off.

So until then, you remain our guest.

And this microfilm camera here,

well, this stays with me till Army Intel gets eyes on it.

That is all, Captain.

Now, go see Doc Wilks.

Get that wound seen to.

Sir, I'd like to go check it out.

Dismissed, Sergeant.

Hey.

What's up?

- Oh. - You have my locket.

- I don't know what you... - Give me my fucking locket.

- All right, girl! Let's go. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, ladies.

Hey, take it easy.

- Lafayette, hand it over. - Sarge, I don't have her...

Just give it the fuck back.

- I was just looking after it. - Bullshit, Lafayette.

How many times, huh?

Back to your post.

Whatever.

Come on, then. Come on.

Guessing you didn't get that out of a Christmas cracker.

Do you think I've lost the plot, Sergeant?

I've seen my share of crazy shit.

I fell down the rabbit hole a long time ago.

So who am I to judge?

Come on, let's get you over to Wilks.

That major of yours is quite the character.

Believe it or not, he was a full bird colonel

till a few years back.

We were ambushed south of Kandahar,

deep in Talib country.

Hit us with everything they had.

We got the order to fall back,

but the colonel kept pushing forward.

Somewhere in the chaos, two men got separated.

Captured and killed.

Brass threw him under the bus,

busted him down to major and sent him here

to serve out his time.

Why here?

Well, because this is where they shit-can

all the burnouts, washouts, and fuck ups.

Lafayette, as you found out, is a kleptomaniac.

If it's shiny and expensive, she'll take it.

Can't help herself.

Everett the rookie had

an accidental discharge in barracks.

Shot a guy in the foot.

Serano knocked up two girls stateside.

Both daughters of an unhappy general.

Wilks...

Well, Wilks got hooked on the meds.

Don't worry. He's clean now.

I think.

So I got rescued by the Dirty Half-Dozen.

What's your story?

The two men we lost were from my unit.

Finch took the heat, but it was my fault.

Shit happens on the battlefield.

And in the air.

This is Major Roy Finch.

Put me through to Colonel Eugene Harper,

Military Intelligence, INSCOM.

Colonel Harper, been a while.

Yes, sir.

When you put me in command here,

you asked me to report any unusual activity

in the sector directly to you.

I suggest you check your e-mail.

I know a bullet wound when I see one.

And this is no fucking bullet wound.

It's going to leave a hell of a scar, Lieutenant.

Or is it "Leftenant"? I can never remember.

You were there.

You saw it, too. Why don't you say something?

Don't waste your breath.

I don't think he speaks a word of English.

And don't get too close.

Captain, you got a minute?

I'm not going anywhere.

Hold up there, Hooky.

Don't you know it's a court-martial offense

to question a British officer without another member

of Her Majesty's forces present?

It is?

So far as you know.

Captain, Sergeant Oswald Jones.

His patrol stopped by for a cup of tea,

and now we can't get rid of him.

It's the special relationship and all that bollocks, see?

We provide some intel, they supply us with brew.

No PG Tips, mind you, but beggars can't be choosers.

And besides,

the shit's about to kick off 'round here.

Oh, we'd hate to miss the party.

You lads SAS?

Couldn't really say.

Heard you had a spot of argy-bargy yourself.

That's one way of putting it.

That was some excellent soldiering, ma'am.

Not bad for a jockey.

You're done. Get you up.

I'll take that as a compliment.

How could I help you?

Yeah, something's bugging me.

I know our AO pretty well,

but there's nothing like this bunker in any satellite images,

any maps, anywhere.

Well, it would be hard to spot from the air.

But it's there,

and it has been for quite a while.

The door was chained shut with some kind of...

Some kind of writing on it.

Pass me that chart.

Yeah.

Here. There you go.

- How'd you do that? - Photographic memory.

Don't know what it means, but...

- What is that? - It looks like gobbledygook.

It's Russian.

It means "Do not open."

Would you look at that?

He speaks Russian.

And English.

Whatever she told you,

it's worse.

Wait a second.

If this bunker is Soviet,

that's got to be 30 years old.

- More. - 30 years.

No way a human could live down there for that long.

It's not human.

You mentioned seeing containers.

Yes. And every container had one of those things inside.

It could be some kind of stasis.

What the hell were those Russkies doing down there?

Whoa, whoa.

Hold your fire.

Jesus, Everett.

What kind of white boy move was that?

You gonna get your ass shot off pulling shit like that.

Thought you could use a coffee.

You can bring me all the cups of coffee you want,

it ain't gonna get you in my shorts.

- It's just a cup of coffee. - Bullshit.

Word is that a pilot we picked up

saw some weird-ass creature out there.

Are you fucking with me?

She probably stir-crazy.

It's the heat.

It's enough to send anyone over the edge.

Back to North Carolina,

people talk about Bigfoot

like he's real as you and me.

They all crazy, too?

Hell yeah.

Evening, lads.

How's it going, Taff?

Got fresh brew on here if you want one.

Champion.

What other culinary delights you got in store, Bromhead?

Well, we've got an aperitif of chicken curry,

followed by chicken curry entree.

For dessert, chicken curry sorbet

with lashings of chicken curry.

Compliments to the chef.

Hughes, you be Mum. Dish up.

Want to tell us what's going on then, Taff?

Yeah, what's the word on the jockey, guv?

Just make sure your kit's in order.

We're open on stag tonight, three-hour shifts.

We expecting trouble?

This is the regiment, Bromhead.

We always expect trouble.

Fuckers.

Patch me through to INSCOM.

Colonel Harper's office.

Colonel. Major Finch.

Did you read the report?

She makes for one hell of a credible witness,

don't you think?

Oh, I have it.

But if you want to get your hands on it,

you better tell me what the hell is going on here.

So what's your name?

Kabir Abdul Rahimi.

You shot me down, Kabir, and killed my WSO.

No. I didn't.

I'm just a driver.

I don't shoot anything. I'm not a violent man.

Then you're hanging with the wrong crowd, Kabir.

Why were you with them?

Why?

Do you think I have a choice? Huh?

I must do it to protect my family.

If you're not with them, then you're against them.

And this... this cannot be.

You ever fancy a real man's sport,

you should have a crack at rugby.

You'd make a decent fullback, I reckon,

like the great J.P.R. himself.

J.P.R.?

J.P.R. Williams.

Most fearless player that ever lived,

the kind of man who'd run towards the bulls of Pamplona.

- Jonesy, Serano. - All right, Mush?

- Sarge. - I was just telling

your man here the difference between rugby and football.

Well, American football, that is.

Sport in which the foot rarely encounters the ball,

unlike rugby, in which a player is often kicked in the nuts.

Fascinating.

Serano, you're up.

Go relieve Everett.

Sarge.

What do you... What do you make of all this?

Well, I don't know about you,

but I won't be sleeping tonight.

You and the boys stick around?

Go where the storm carries you?

We are the storm, mate.

We'll hang around.

See what's occurring.

It's past your bedtime, huh, Everett?

Why don't you go get some sleep, huh?

I got this.

That's mighty kind of you.

And a... a word of advice.

Don't try so hard with Lafayette, man.

She's not the needy type.

And you might want to take a shower.

- Asshole. - Dude, seriously, man, you c...

What the...?

Serano?

Quit screwing around, dude.

Fucking hell, Keyes.

What crawled up your ass and died?

He who smelt it dealt it.

He who said the rhyme committed the crime.

I blame your fucking chicken curry, mate.

Except it ain't coming from your direction.

Serano?

Holy shit.

Son of a bitch.

Come on.

Show your fucking selves.

Sod this malarkey.

Contact!

It's here.

Contact! Front! Get to position!

O'Neill, south wall!

Hughes, man the .50-cal and hold the gate!

Use your infrared. Go, go, go.

Lafayette, suppressing fire.

Serano, talk to me.

Serano's gone.

Something fucking took him.

What the fuck are we firing at?

- They're fucking huge. - What's coming, Brommy?

Something's moving out there, but I don't know what.

Shit the bed.

Sinclair's bogeymen.

You what, Taff?

Just shoot any fucker that moves.

Peterson, Travis, get to the south wall. Support O'Neill!

I don't want these fuckers getting 'round back of us.

Lafayette, sit rep.

Multiple unknown targets

advancing from the north and west.

Over to the 8! Aim for the 8!

No, look to the left!

The others got out. They must have tracked me.

How can they do that?

Major.

Sergeant, report.

We're under attack, sir.

How can we be under attack?

I don't hear any incoming fire.

It's not insurgents, sir.

They don't sound like that.

Holy shit.

What are the rules of engagement?

Weapons free, Sergeant.

Kill anything that shrieks.

Copy that.

You still think I'm crazy, Lafayette?

I'll cut you some slack.

Fuck! Everett!

Son of a bitch.

Man down! Medic!

Stay here.

Where the fuck is my sidearm?

The rest of the confiscated weapons in there.

Finch has the key. Sorry. Watch him.

Watch him do what? Watch me?

Fuck.

Command, this is Camp Cooper. We are under attack.

Repeat. We... We are under attack.

Come in.

Shit!

Hey. Come on, now, buddy.

Come on, now.

Shit!

What the fuck?

Jones, we need support on the east wall!

Right you are, Hooky!

Keep at them, boyo!

It's like a Friday night in Cardiff!

Fucking radgie.

I got no idea what you just said.

You toothy bastard!

You picked the wrong foxhole to fuck with.

I got you. Come on.

Fuck. Come on, man.

Fall back now!

You heard the man! Move your arse!

Shit.

Peterson and Travis are down.

Where the fuck is O'Neill?

They're outside the wall.

Ah!

Fall back!

Hughes, on me! Come on!

Move, you fucking muppet!

Muffing it, you are!

Shit!

Hughes!

Ah!

Fucking hell, Brommy!

Don't fire!

Incoming!

Bast...

You fucking bell end!

Right, me old traitor, you're coming with us.

Fucking move.

Shift it. Go on.

Shit, Sinclair.

On me, on me.

Regroup! Fall back to the trench!

Come on.

Glad you could make it, Captain.

What's the plan, Stan?

Park it, boyo.

And no playing silly buggers or I'll slot you.

Where the fuck did they go?

They're sneaky bastards, I reckon.

All right.

Lafayette, fall back to the armory.

Jones, give me some covering fire.

Covering for what?

I'm going for the major.

Wilks, you're with me.

For fuck's sake.

Sod this for a game of soldiers.

Mind your fucking necking, Brommy, and shift it.

Flash bang!

Batter up, you son of a bitch.

About done there, Major?

Fuck. Fuck, who's got the key?

- I got a key. - Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

Easy, tiger. Let's not shoot the ammunition.

I've got previous with this sort of thing,

so keep those bastards off my back.

You okay? Your head is bleeding.

Let it bleed.

Base is compromised. Six men are down.

We're falling back to the armory.

Sergeant, take command.

You don't need any dead weight.

Nice speech. Now let's go.

God damn it. Leave me.

Major, we're getting you back. Come on.

Still got it.

Nice work, Bromhead.

You got to be fucking kidding me.

Someone's really taking the piss now.

Come on.

Get in. Get in there.

Here they come.

Go for the kisser.

That's the sweet spot.

Contact.

Corporal, take it out!

Check your fire!

What the fuck?

Go on! Hack its fucking head off!

Smile for the fucking camera.

Move! Move your fucking asses!

Get it in the hole!

It's coming!

Everybody, go, go, go!

Lock the fucking door! Lock it!

Think they've had enough?

You want to stick your head out and see?

At least we've given them something to think about.

Yeah. Take heart.

Nothing quite like a kebab in a box to round off the night.

How is he doing?

Out cold, but he's alive.

What are we gonna do, Sarge?

All we can do.

Hang tight.

Wait for daylight.

See if our odds improve.

Caught this one trying to make a run for it.

Can you blame him?

No.

Still can't trust him, though.

He saved my life quick enough.

Well, he had one of those bastards bang to rights,

but he didn't fire.

Why is that?

Why don't you ask him?

He speaks English.

It's Kabir, isn't it?

If you got something to tell us, now's the time.

Or would you rather take your chances out there?

With them.

I wasn't even born when the Russians invaded my country.

The people of my village said

they knew that the invasion was coming

because a star had fallen to earth and shook the ground.

They believed it was a sign from God to begin our holy war.

So my mother taught me to learn the ways of our enemy

while my father fought with the Mujahideen.

And by winter of 1988,

Afghan forces had begun to turn the tide.

We had Stinger missiles

and could shoot their aircraft from the sky.

Tell me about it.

For the first time in nine years, there was hope.

But that was when it began.

First one man disappeared, then another,

and then women, too, always at night.

Sometimes we found bodies

mauled like a beast that takes its prey.

We thought it was a wolf or a bear.

So my father led the hunt to kill the beast.

But as suddenly as it began,

when the Soviets withdrew,

it ended.

We lost 46 villagers,

including my father.

He never returned from the hunt.

Serano, Hughes, they're all gone.

There's blood trails headed west.

Where they came from.

Why would they take the bodies?

Something ungodly, I expect.

Lafayette, report.

No movement. Coast is clear, Sarge.

All right. Keep a lookout.

How are you holding up?

Oh, you know.

Nothing a cup of tea and a biscuit won't fix.

Is that British understatement?

My old man used to say, "If you don't want life

to bite you in the ass,

better learn to kick it in the teeth."

Quite the motivational speaker, your dad.

Oh, yes. That's one way to put it.

You got family back home?

No.

Want to, but...

kind of hard in this job, you know?

Three tours I've been dodging AAA without so much as a blink.

This is the first time I'm thinking

I might not make it home.

Hey. You better come see this.

- He's a heavy son of a bitch. - Come on.

Lay it down there.

Found it behind the generator.

Only corpse they left behind.

Man, that thing is ripe.

Ugly bastard, too.

That's a face only a mother could love.

The hell are we dealing with, Doc?

Like I should know.

You're all we've got.

That's some combination.

Yeah. Send the doctor in. He'll do it.

I need my equipment.

Oh, look at that.

His teeth are in rows and retractable.

Like a shark.

He's got thick skin.

Like body armor.

Wow. Tough as Kevlar.

Well, no wonder they're so hard to kill.

So how come it's melting?

A reaction to the sunlight.

I figured his DNA isn't used to the same levels of UV

we're accustomed to.

So sunlight hurts it.

Like an albino.

Or a fucking vampire.

Well, let's be honest.

I really need to take a look inside.

Now, why would you want to do a thing like that?

We don't have a choice.

What do you need?

Tool kit.

Someone give me a hand here.

Get in there, Brommy. Fill your boots.

Oh, fuck's sake!

Oh, I think I'm going to be sick.

Oh, my God.

What's wrong?

Everything's wrong.

These are human organs.

Nah, you've lost me, mate.

One minute, they aren't human. And now they are?

Which one is it?

It's both.

I owe you an apology, Sinclair.

Army Intelligence has had eyes on this sector for decades.

They've long suspected a Soviet black site

in the mountains near here.

They could never verify it until yesterday

when you walked right into it and found this.

Now, I don't know what the fuck's on here,

but they figure it's worth enough to tell me

everything they know so long as I keep it safe.

It seems the Soviets found a way to integrate foreign DNA

into a human host.

Foreign DNA?

You mean like French?

I mean foreign to the earth.

This the bit where we all get killed

for knowing too much?

We already know too much.

- So don't sweat it. - Shit.

In December '79, an object of unknown origin

entered Earth's atmosphere over Siberia

and crashed somewhere in the Hindu Kush,

not too far from here.

The fallen star.

Yeah.

The Russians sent a team to investigate

and found it was a craft of some sort.

And something was inside of it.

Something the Soviet government wanted so badly,

they invaded this country to keep it for themselves.

What are you saying?

The entire Russian invasion of Afghanistan was a smokescreen?

Holy shit, that's big.

The Russians have their own Roswell.

The rabbit hole gets deeper and deeper.

You said there was more.

How many are we talking about?

There's an army down there.

Last night, they were just probing,

testing our strengths, learning our weaknesses.

Means tonight, they'll be back to finish the job.

So why don't we just load up the Hummer

and get the fuck out of here?

Through 70 miles of hostile country?

The fuel we got left, we'll be lucky to make it half way.

And on foot, insurgents would be on us like flies on shit.

Like it or not, we're in this fight.

All of us.

Now, my life may not be worth a plug nickel,

but it's my duty to protect yours.

And I swear to you,

when these motherfuckers storm our walls,

I will defend these ramparts

and I will shed my blood with yours.

And I will hold this position to the last fucking cartridge.

Now let's show these fuckers

what we're...

Fuck!

What now?

That son of a bitch!

Aaah!

Take the shot!

Shoot it, Lafayette!

I can't get a fucking clear shot!

You get him, Hooky!

Kick his fucking head in!

Stand clear!

Don't do it!

Hit the deck!

Major.

Major.

How was that for a voluntary discharge?

Finch.

Finch.

Is everybody else okay?

Yeah.

Just peachy.

That was some fucked-up shit.

No. No.

Anybody got a problem with this?

He's all right in my book.

Oh, bollocks!

Satcoms is shot to fuck.

What about the radio in the Hummer?

The antenna was damaged last night.

It works, but it doesn't have the range.

Corporal, how we doing on ammo?

Not much.

About 50 rounds for the M4s,

a handful of mags for sidearms,

three belts for the .50-cal,

- and a case of C-4. - Shit.

Seen more firepower at a Saudi wedding.

Whoa, hey, hey, hey, hey.

- Still on planet Earth? - I'm okay.

That was pretty fucking sick. Tried to suck your brains out.

Not just my brains.

Thoughts, like it was draining my mind.

To learn the ways of their enemy.

We still have one more trick up our sleeve.

Which is?

I know where they live.

Kabir, you're free to go.

If you don't mind, I would like to join you.

Good man.

This is personal for you, isn't it?

This knife belonged to my father.

And when I came of age, I swore an oath

that one day I would avenge his death.

That day has come.

My son lost his father, too.

Car accident a year ago.

It's never easy for a mother to raise a child alone.

But my mother never left my side.

What the fuck am I doing here?

Fighting to get home.

Heads up.

I found this in my shit. Looked like your size.

Borrowed?

Hell no.

Ladies, gentlemen,

let's boogie.

You jammy twat.

I wish I said that.

We get in quick and clean,

load the C-4 in the caboose, cut the cable,

drop the package down the throat,

and blow this place back to the Stone Age.

Piece of pie, right, Sinclair?

It's cake. "Piece of cake."

You okay?

I don't like heights.

A pilot that's afraid of heights?

Now I've heard everything.

I don't much like the smell of sweaty armpits

and crotch rot, but here I am.

Fair play.

- C-4 is armed. We're good to go. - All right, everyone fall back.

Sinclair.

Your locket.

Hook!

Fuck!

We've got to go.

Take cover, everyone.

Fire in the hole.

Move your ass, girl.

- Sinclair. - Wait, wait, it's Hook!

He's alive.

- Sinclair, do you copy? - This is Sinclair.

Where are you?

I don't know. It doesn't matter.

You have to complete the mission.

Blow this place up and get them out of there.

Wait, what about you?

Shit happens on the battlefield.

Get home to your son.

And tell him I left you to die?

I don't think so.

Wilks, man the winch.

You're not seriously thinking about going down there.

If Kabir is right and they are siphoning our minds,

it's a cinch.

They know our moves before we even make them.

I'm going in, alone if I have to,

'cause I know Hook would do the same for me.

Or any of you.

All right, jockey.

I'm sold.

You're both nuts.

That would make three of us.

You wouldn't want to miss the party, would you?

Bastards, the lot of you.

Hook, if you can hear me,

we're coming in to get you.

Sinclair, do not come back for me.

I repeat, do not come back.

Wilks, if you hear the signal, you get us out fast.

Copy.

Don't be late.

Okay. Cover your ears.

Open your mouths.

And hold on tight.

Three, two, one.

Hold it.

Touched down.

If they didn't know we were coming, they do now.

All personnel in range of this signal,

evacuate immediately.

We are at T-minus 20 minutes and counting.

Hello? Hello?

Hello? Fuck!

Sinclair, we've got a big problem.

I just picked an alert on satcoms telling anyone

who's listening to evacuate this sector right now.

Copy that.

How could they know the location?

Every Humvee as a transponder.

We led them straight to us.

It sounds like a missile strike.

Whatever it is, it's 20 minutes and counting.

We gonna stand here and stare or do this shit?

Corporal, with me.

Kabir, Jones, watch the rear.

Brommy, you stay here and hold the fort.

Right you are, Taff.

Okay.

Come on.

Spread out. Stay alert. We've got 10 minutes.

Hook.

Do you copy?

Hook.

Do you copy?

Hook.

What did they do?

These were my people.

No fucking way.

Sinclair, what's your 20?

Fuck. We're in the lab.

Follow the bio hazard signs.

Sinclair?

Hook...

Shit.

Follow the bio hazard signs.

On my way.

I got company!

T-minus 17 minutes and counting.

Shit.

- Coming in hot! - You might want to duck!

- Empty. - Empty.

Empty.

I'll keep some for emergency.

They're hatching.

Here we go.

Come on in, you motherfuckers!

Fuck.

Let's not hang around, eh?

This is why they took you alive.

They knew I'd come for you.

'Cause they read my mind.

Bastards laid an ambush.

Back to the elevator now!

Lafayette, let's go!

You better get a move on, Hooky.

Yeah, nice try.

Fuck off now.

There's a good lad.

You heard the sergeant. Let's move.

I'll be right behind you, jockey.

Go!

Go!

Come on, bitch! Whoo!

You motherfuckers!

- Which way, Captain? - Go left. Left.

Right. It's right here.

It's right. Make a right.

Go.

Fuckers.

Jammed. Jammed.

- Where's Jones? - Buying us time.

- Where's Lafayette? - Kabir.

She was right behind us.

- I'm going back for her. - No, you're not.

She's mine.

If I'm not back in five, get the hell out of here.

Hook.

We have to go. Now!

We fucking wait for them!

All right, motherfucker. Let's...

Fuck.

Bollocks to this!

Wilks, bring us up now!

No.

This is not the plan!

No fucking shit!

Wilks! Wilks!

Wilks, bring us up now!

Wilks!

Fuck it!

Eat your fucking heart out, J.P.R.!

Look out!

T-minus 13 minutes and counting.

Fuck!

This damn sodding fuck!

Wilks, shut it down.

Shut it down now.

T-minus 10 minutes and counting.

T-minus 8 minutes and counting.

You motherfuckers!

I got your back, Sinclair.

Motherfuckers!

No!

Fuck no!

Go!

Ah!

Joke's on you, assholes.

T-minus 4 minutes and counting.

Looks like that rabbit hole swallowed us both this time.

Still want to kick life in the teeth?

Fuck yeah.

May I?

Hold tight.

You miss me?

Can you cut it finer next time?

You were saying?

T-minus one minute and counting.

30, 29, 28, 27, 26, 25, 24...

Let's go.

...18, 17, 16, 15, 14,

13, 12, 11, 10, 9...

I'm going, I'm going!

...5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Holy shit.

What the fuck was that?

That was someone covering their ass.

Colonel Harper, this is Spearhead.

The asset is gone.

Well, that's a damn shame.

These things have a habit of turning up.

Return to base, Spearhead. Harper out.

Better get moving.

Blast will wake up every insurgent for 100 miles.

What you got there?

A present from Lafayette.

Come on.

No time for a moment.

Get me to a hotel.

Get me a milkshake, get me a bath.

Will you shut up, Wilks?

Oh, come on.

Tell me you're joking.

Wish I were.

Hey, quit fooling around, Sarge.

You want to get out and push?

You're beginning to worry me.

For fuck's sake.

Come on, baby.

Don't let me down.