Original subtitles

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: Six times three.

(GROANING)

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up.

(SHIVERING)

Hurry up.

It's eighteen. SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: Ooh!

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 2: Ríng the bell three tímes,

put your helmet on the ground. You're done.

(YELLING)

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 2: Commence! You don't make ít, you do ít agaín!

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: You ever been tested this hard ever in your life?

Never.

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: Wínníng here ís a conscíous decísíon.

Make up your mínd íf you want to pass

or choose to faíl.

All right now, gentlemen, I'm gonna introduce y'all

to something called "not being able to breathe."

TRAINER: Andrew! Come back.

Come back to the light.

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: All thís shakíng and all thís cold. Harness ít.

Turn ít ínto aggressíon.

You just proved to your bodies, through your mind,

that you can push yourself further than you thought possíble.

Go get wet! Run!

SEAL TRAINEE: I'm at my límít, so...

that's ít.

SEAL INSTRUCTOR: You sure you want to be here? MAN: Yes, I do.

Are you absolutely sure?

I'm positive!

(BELL RINGS)

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 2: Whatever you have to do!

SEAL INSTRUCTOR 1: Just fínd an excuse to wín.

Keep goíng.

SEAL 1: It pays to be a wínner!

SEAL 2: I líke havíng my buddíes that I can depend on.

And I would líke for them to be able to depend on me.

SEAL 3: These guys are our band of brothers.

(BELL RINGS)

ALL: (SINGING) Sílent níght

Holy níght

All ís calm

All ís bríght

(CHOPPER BLADES WHIRRING)

LUTTRELL: There's a storm ínsíde of us.

I've heard many team guys speak of thís.

A burníng.

A ríver.

A dríve.

An unrelentíng desíre to push yourself

harder and further than anyone could thínk possíble.

Pushíng ourselves ínto those cold, dark corners.

Where the bad thíngs líve.

Where the bad thíngs fíght.

We wanted that Fíght at the híghest volume.

(DEFIBRILLATOR POWERING UP)

(BEEPING) (sPEAKING INDisTINcTLv)

LUTTRELL: _ loud fíght.

(DEFIBRILLATOR POWERING UP)

The loudest, coldest, darkest,

most unpleasant of the unpleasant fíghts.

(RAPID BEEPING)

(GROANING SOFTLY)

(CLEARS THROAT)

(MOUSE CLICKING)

(CHOPPER WHIRRING DISTANTLY)

(SIGHS)

ls this doable?

It's expensive.

How much?

LUTTRELL: It's an Arabian horse, man. She got good taste.

L know.

How much?

I'll find out. Expensive.

You're fucked, man.

(SIGHS)

I know.

I'm up.

Going down.

(COMPUTER BEEPING)

(KEYS CLACKING)

(BEEPS)

(YELLING TRIUMPHANTLY)

Murphy by 1.1.

More than that. More than that, Marcus.

Fuckin' dude, I was being generous. Trust me.

Who won?

Murph. Murph, barely. By one second.

(SCOFFS) Barely.

Barely. LUTTRELL: Head shave?

Head shave or what? I don't know, you know? It's something to think about.

If I shave his head, I have to focus on his face.

Face, ears. Oddly-shaped head.

Well, I don't wanna be looking at him that close, either,

but he has been running his mouth about beating you. Really?

Fuck, a head shave is fair.

Axe? Better shave him.

, Make him go eat with the E-3s, work in the chow hall until it grows back.

LUTTRELL: Frankie, what do you think?

Why the fuck wouldn't we shave him?

That's valid.

Patton, not that we care, but what do you think?

Let me see you make a tactical decision right now.

Well, (CLEARS THROAT) I could go both ways on this.

He did lose, but he was close.

And you're Mike Murphy.

You are Mike Murphy.

The Mike Murphy.

L would've expected a bigger separation.

That is a good point. Backhanded compliment.

Patton. Grab my razor.

PATTON: Razor, copy that.

(DOOR OPENING)

KRISTENSEN: Listen up.

Red Wings' a go. Tonight, 1800.

(ALL MURMURING INDISTINCTLY)

Beautiful.

Am I going?

PLO in an hour.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Maybe I'll go.

It's a maybe. I'll give you a maybe. Stay optimistic.

Boys. FRANKIE: Hey, what's up?

What the fuck am I doing wrong?

Oh, come on.

I'll tell you what, Shane, here's your first op.

You ready?

Clean all this up.

(SOLDIERS YELLING) (pEopLE cLAmoRING)

The objective of this mission is to capture and kill Ahmad Shah.

Bad guy. Senior Taliban commander

responsíble for kíllíng Marínes ín eastern Afghanístan.

A Tier I target.

If you want a positive l.D., note that Shah has no earlobes.

(ALL CLAMORING)

MURPHY: Taraq. (sPEAKINc LocAL DIALEcT)

His right-hand man. Seems to do most of his chief shit for him.

(BOTH SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

We're going in with a four-man recon team.

Axelson, you'll be point. Myself, I'll be second.

Dietz, comms. Marcus, rear, med.

Axe, give us our route.

AXELSON: We're gonna be moving up the back side of this mountain here,

which is gonna offer great concealment from the village.

I'm estimating that it's gonna take us between

three and four hours, depending upon the gradient of the terrain

which is that crappy shale.

So please lace up.

(YELLING)

First things first. You're gonna win the fight.

No medicine in a gun fight.

Two weeks ago, Team 8 was near where we're gonna be.

Capelli got bit by a rattlesnake.

Contrary to popular belief, there is poison oak,

so watch your cock and balls, 'cause that will suck.

(CLAMORING)

Murph's got the satphone.

The angle ofthis region is very steep. Expect typical comms problems.

We're gonna be on two-hour comms windows.

If we miss two windows, I'd say wake somebody up. If not, don't sweat it.

Waypoint one is Budweiser. Waypoint two is Miller.

Three is Corona. Four is Heineken.

And for our O.P. 1, Schlitz Malt Liquor.

And if and when we l.D. Shah, pass Rick James.

(ALL YELLING) (spEAKING LocAL DIALEcT)

Gentlemen, these are your Rules of Engagement. US forces will comply

wíth the Law oF Armed Conflíct at all tímes.

Use of deadly force ís authorízed.

(YELLING)

Allahu Akbar!

If you do come under attack,

use the appropríate force necessary to deter or defeat that threat.

(GRUNTING)

KRISTENSEN: Leaving here at 1800. Two Chinooks and two Apaches.

We fly here to the L.Z., insert the four-man team right here.

Then we fly 30 minutes to J-Bad.

Here, we'll have 15 team guys

and about a dozen Marines standing by all night.

When we hear "Schlitz Malt Liquor", we're heading back

to Bagram for phase two.

The QRF will stay here at J-Bad.

Now the Apaches stay with the Black Hawks.

The movement is so we can get the 47's back here

ready to bring up to phrase two, once you get eyes on Shah.

Oh,

I bringing up tomorrow night's new guy presentation to 1400 today,

so that all may revel and partake. (ALL cHEERINc)

LUTTRELL: You better be good, Napoleon.

Fuck.

A lot of moving parts.

We were going to wait and then she gets her head into it

and when she gets her head into something, that's it.

There's no stopping her, man. She's going all out.

MURPHY: You know, you should just let her do it.

You got a handyman woman. That's a good thing.

He's afraid of losing control over his castle.

He's having control issues 'cause he's the one

who's always made the taste decisions in the family, right?

No, she's got great taste. L... l trust her.

LUTTRELL: Well, what does she like?

(SIGHS)

DIETZ: Rose Honeydew.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Oh. MURPHY: Is that a color?

Mmm-mmm.

You better control that situation.

It's very ongoing.

New grass leads to new bushes by the windows,

leads to new curtains, leads to new sofa,

leads to new carpet, leads to new floor.

New baby.

LUTTRELL: Dude, she's pregnant? How far along is she?

You know if it's a boy or a girl?

No, she's not pregnant. She's just on a weird journey,

moving through the house, one room to the next.

LUTTRELL: Sounds expensive. Sounds pregnant.

(ALL LAUGHING) Congratulations.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

MAN: You're fuckin' late.

Sir, I'm good to go.

No.

You should introduce yourself

and tell us something about you we don't know.

All right. Petty Officer...

Oh, shut up!

(ALL JEERING)

Get out!

Shut the fuck up!

Hey. Settle down.

Give the kid a chance. Remember what it was like for you.

Petty Officer... (ALL JEERINc)

DIETZ: Who gives a shit!

LUTTRELL: Shut the fuck up!

Mr. Patton, please.

(DANCE MUSIC PLAYING) (ALL cHEERING)

There we go.

More neck.

Come on, dude, you got to get into it. Lose yourself.

MAN: Yeah!

Whoa!

Whoo!

(MUSIC STOPS)

Really, really bad.

Dude, that was traumatizing.

Can we vote to push him through?

Because I can't see that ever again.

Hands up. Push him through! (ALL AcREEINc)

I don't know. Can he say it?

Can you say it? MAN: Prove it!

(QUIETLY) I don't want to watch you dance again. I really don't.

Can you say it, Mr. Patton?

L can say it, I can say it.

(CLEARS THROAT)

Uh... MAN: Don't fuck it up.

Come on. No more fucking around. Come on.

(PATTON CLEARS THROAT)

Been around the world twice. Talked to everyone once.

Seen two whales fuck. Been to three world fairs.

L even know a man in Thailand with a wooden cock.

L push more peter more sweeter and more completer

than any other peter pusher around.

I'm a hard-bodíed, haíry-chested,

rootín'-tootín' shootín', parac' hutín'

demolítíon double-cap crímpín' frogman.

There aín't nothíng I can't do.

No sky too hígh, no sea too rough, no muFF too tough.

Learned a lot of lessons ín my lífe.

Never shoot a large-calíber man wíth a small-calíber bullet.

Dríve all kínds of trucks.

Two-bys, four-bys, síx-bys.

And those bíg mothe_uckers that bend and go, "sshh-sshh"

when you step on the brakes.

Anythíng ín lífe worth doíng ís worth overdoíng. Moderatíon ís for cowards.

I'm a lover, I'm a fíghter, I'm a UDT Navy SEAL díver.

I'll wíne, díne, íntertwíne,

and sneak out the back door when the refuelíng ís done.

So íf you're feelíng froggy, then you betterjump,

because thís frogman's been there, done that and ís goíng back for more.

Cheers, boys.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

She does not need an Arabían horse!

How the fuck do you know about that?

L know everythíng, Murphy.

KRISTENSEN: More a Tennessee Walker cross stallíon.

The orígínal Sílver. The Lone Ranger's horse.

No shít.

KRISTENSEN: Gloríous horse, Murphy. Gloríous!

CHINOOK PILOT: Razor 11, 64 ís two míkes out. Establísh overwatch at 1000 AGL.

CHINOOK PILOT: All ríght, Commander, approachíng the L.Z.

One míke on the deck.

One mínute!

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

CHINOOK PILOT: Thírty seconds.

Thírty seconds!

APACHE PILOT: Roger. Establísh overwatch at 5000 MSL.

CHINOOK PILOT: Bruno 64 wíll be a fast rope ínfíl. Stand by, Commander.

APACHE PILOT: Good hoyer. Hold your hover.

CHINOOK PILOT: Rope's deployed.

CHINOOK PILOT: fírst team member on rope.

KRISTENSEN: Go!

CHINOOK PILOT: fírst man on the ground.

Second man on the rope.

Hey. Next one, Shane, okay?

Have fun, you lucky bastard! (cHucKLEs)

CHINOOK PILOT: lulu 06, Bruno 64 ínfíl complete. RTB.

(STATIC OVER RADIO)

Apollo 2-2, Spartan O-1. Radio check.

PILOT: (OVER RADIO) Spartan O-1, thís ís Apollo 2-2.

We'll be wíth you for the next síx hours. Have a níce walk.

Apollo 2-2, this is Spartan O-1. Copy.

DIETZ: Comms check. AXELSON: Check.

LUTTRELL: Check.

MURPHY: Check.

DIETZ: Spartan O-1, I passed Budweíser. How copy?

MAN: (OVER RADIO) Spartan O-1, Apollo 2-2. Good copy. Budweíser.

DIETZ: _pollo 2-2.

Spartan O-1 hít Míller.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

Sir, Spartan O-1 passes Miller.

Spartan O-1, Spartan base. L copy. Miller.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

DIETZ: Apollo 2-2, Spartan O-1.

It's Corona.

HASSLERT: Looks like they're doing pretty good, Chief.

DIETZ: _pollo 2... Spartan O-1.

(STATIC) It's Heín...

HASSLERT: Say again, your last?

DIETZ: Spartan O-1. Here's Heíneken.

How copy?

HASSLERT: Good copy.

Spartan O-1 passes Heineken.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(WHISPERING) It's the final waypoint. Call it in.

Spartan Base, this is Spartan O-1. Radio check.

DIETZ: (OVER RADIO) Spartan... Spartan O-1.

(STATIC)

Spartan O-1, this is Beastmaster. Say again. You're weak and unreadable.

Take a peek.

DIETZ: Spartan Base.

LUTTRELL: Shit.

Can't see half the village.

L passed Schlitz Malt Liquor. L say again.

L passed Schlítz Malt Líquor.

HASSLERT: Good copy.

Sir, intermittent comms with Spartan O-1,

but they have arrived at the O.P.

(SIGHS)

KRISTENSEN: All right, fellas.

Our boys are safe and secure for the day.

Team one, back to Bagram with me.

Team two, enjoy your time here at J-Bad. Nighty-night.

MAN: Spartan O-1, Apollo 2-2.

Sun's up. We're out. Good luck.

A-firm.

Find a new spot?

Let's try to make that peak.

See if that's not better.

Sounds good.

MUSSELMAN: Boys all set?

They're all set. They're in position. All's good.

Enioy your night. Sleep well.

Enjoy yours, brother.

Thanks, Pete.

Glorious day. Eh, Patton?

Yes, sir.

We good?

Yeah. They arrived about 30 minutes ago.

Should be digging in nice and tight right about now.

CHINOOK PILOT: Zulu 06, Bruno 64 ís wheels up. J-Bad, enroute Bagram.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

MURPHY: (OVER RADIO) Marcus, on me.

Danny, take our síx. Inform command of our new posítíon.

Axe. Eyes on.

(SNIFFS)

(BLOWING)

(STATIC OVER RADIO)

Goddamn. Shit.

That's a lot more than 10 guys.

That's a fucking army.

Four guys on the right.

Red scarf.

No earlobes. (cHucKLEs)

LUTTRELL: Ooh!

Super freak. That's Rick James, bitch.

You make that shot?

Negative. Wouldn't have authority anyway.

(SIGHS)

MURPHY: (OVER RADIO) Díetz, we got Shah P-l.D♪ d. Call ín Ríck James.

Fuck, yeah.

MURP_Y: Axe, you sexy ín there? You comfy?

Solid. Advise on target.

MURPHY: Danny, you make comms yet?

No joy.

Fuck.

MURPHY: We're too exposed.

What do you think? Keep Axe at O.P. 1?

Move back twenty-five yards, set up O.P. 2?

Roger that.

MURPHY: _xe, you're on surveíllance.

Díetz, fall back to O.P. 2 and get me some fuckíng comms.

(SIGHS)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(CAMERA CLICKING)

Spartan Base, this is Spartan O-1.

Radío check. How copy?

Hey, L.T.

Yeah.

Lfwe're home by the 15th, me and Morgan

are gonna cut down all the trees around the stable.

How is that gonna help me?

Hello?

Brahms horse auction is, I think, the 27th.

That means if I cut down the trees behind the stable,

I get a discount for your horse.

Do they sell Arabic horses?

First of all, it's not an Arabic horse, okay? It's an Arabian horse.

Arabic.

It's... You're from New York, okay?

How much is an Arabic horse? It's Arabian horse.

How much is an Arabian horse?

No less than 15 grand.

(WHISPERING) Fifteen fucking grand?

Hell of a wedding present.

Ls that redhead a bridesmaid? DIETz: (ovER RADlo) Radío check. How copy?

Melissa? The redhead, dude.

The one with freckles on her nose.

The cute one from the Coldplay concert.

That's Melissa.

Ls she coming? She's a bridesmaid.

Yeah. Is she coming?

She's a bridesmaid. Yes.

Did she ask about me? No.

Mikey, I'm good here. I'm going to break down O.P.1.

Copy that.

Lísten up. At 0930, we move to hígh ground and make comms.

Marcus, Axe, shut her down. Dietz, you got security.

MURPHY: Rest up, gents.

Can you get off the radio while you're chewing?

You're makíng me nauseous.

(RUSTLING)

(TWIGS CRACKING)

(JANGLING)

(BLEATING)

Mikey, you see this?

What the fuck is this?

Oh, shit.

(INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS)

(YELLS IN LOCAL DIALECT)

LUTTRELL: Get down!

Down!

(YELLING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

AXELSON: Get up.

LUTTRELL: Get your hands back.

Spartan Base, Spartan O-1.

Stepped right the fuck on me.

(INDISTINCT YELLING)

What the fuck is this? What the fuck? Are you talking to Taliban?

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Fuckin' Tali.

Saying again. This is Spartan O-1. Over.

(STATIC) Come on. Come on.

Hey, eyes down. Eyes down.

Eyes down. Eyes down.

MURPHY: (WHISPERING) Motherfuck.

Axe. Eyes on him, what he does.

Fuck.

DIETZ: Spartan Base, this is Spartan O-1. Over.

(STATIC)

Danny, your radio working?

So now I'm going to be that guy

calling on an unsecure sat line because your shit ain't functioning.

Talk to the mountain, sir.

Eyes down. Eyes down.

Motherfuck.

(WHISPERING) You know, it's feeling like a cursed op.

It's not a cursed op. There's no curses.

It's iust Afghanistan. That's all.

(LINE RINGING)

(PHONE RINGING)

J-Bad TOC, Sergeant Hasslert speaking.

Sergeant, this is Spartan O-1. Do you hear me?

Hello.

Sergeant, this is Spartan O-1.

Yes, yes, I can hear you, sir.

L am calling on an unsecure line.

L need to speak to the C.O. immediately.

The C.O.? That's correct.

Whích C.O., sír?

Commander Kristensen.

Commander Kristensen isn't here, sir.

Ah, he's at Bagram.

Yes, that's correct, sir.

L need you to transfer me to Bagram Ouellette TOC.

Now.

Roger that, sir. Stand by.

(PHONE RINGING)

Ouellette. Petty Officer Patton.

Patton, Míke Murphy.

You're looking for Mike Murphy?

This is Mike Murphy. Do you copy?

(STATIC) Mike?

This connection sucks. What's up, man?

Patton, get me the Skipper now.

He's sleeping, sir.

Wake him the fuck up.

Díd you say wake hím up, sír?

Ríght fuckíng now.

Roger that.

Murph wants me to wake the Skipper.

Mike Murphy? Yeah.

That's Mike Murphy? Well, go get him.

(DOOR CLOSES)

Commander Kristensen?

Commander Kristensen?

Sir, sorry, sir.

L got Lieutenant Murphy on the phone for you in the TOC.

He says he needs to talk to you now.

Which one?

Right there.

Mike? Mike?

(STATIC)

Oh, it dropped.

Mike?

It's dead. What did he say?

Uh, iust that he needed to talk to you.

Why is Murphy calling on a satphone?

No idea.

Are we having comms problems with Spartan O-1?

We were good for a while, but we've missed two windows now, sir.

Two.

Try him back! For fuck's sake.

(BLEATING)

Fuck! Worst fucking comms.

Well, we could light the goats on fire,

smoke signal our way out of here.

Yeah, I could walk down to the village, ask to borrow a phone.

You'd get some interesting tile ideas down there, bro.

Afghan Dirt Brown, (CHUCKLES) Goat Skin Blond.

Shit, she'll dig that a hell of a lot more than,

what is it, fucking Honey Cream?

(ALL CLAMORING)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Sit down. Sit down!

(GRUNTS)

Way I see it, we got three options.

(SPITS)

One, we let them go, hike up.

We'll probably be found in less than an hour.

Two, we tie them up, hike out, roll the dice.

They'll probably be eaten by fucking wolves, or freeze to death.

Three?

We terminate the compromise.

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Shah's down there. We let them go, we're letting him go. Mission fails.

No, Mikey.

L don't like it. I don't fucking like it at all.

What are we gonna do? We gonna kill them? Huh?

Okay, we kill them, right? What, then what? Fucking bury 'em?

They get found, then what?

Then what?

What do you mean, then what?

(SIGHS) And then what?

You know then what.

What do you think? This shit's gonna be private?

Huh? It's gonna be out there for the whole fucking world.

CNN, okay? "SEALs kill kids."

That's the fucking story forever.

It's nobody's fucking business what we do up here.

We do what we do. What we have to do.

This is the fucking Navy and you're the fucking boss,

so you make the fucking call, sir.

Shah killed 20 Marines last week.

Twenty.

We let him go, 20 more will die next week.

Forty more the week after that. Our job is to stop Shah.

Why do these men have the right to dictate how we do ourjob?

Rules of Engagement says we cannot touch them.

L understand.

And I don't care.

L care about you. L care about you.

L care about you. L care about you.

L don't want your mom seeing your head,

your decapitated head on Al Jazeera.

That is Shah.

L don't see it that way.

Where do you think he's running to? 200 friends down there.

Got guys in Leavenworth doing 20 for taking home trophy guns.

What do you think they're gonna do

for two fucking kids and an old fucking man?

Fucking look at them, man.

They fucking hate us.

Look, at him. That's not a kid, that's a soldier. That's death. Look at death.

LUTTRELL: We can't do it. AXELSON: Look at that soldier.

They are unarmed prisoners.

And the second they run down there, we got 200 hajís on our backs.

Tie 'em up.

Tie 'em up. Let's get the fuck out of here.

We can't just fucking leave 'em, let 'em go!

L thought you were standing by waiting for your fucking orders?

L am standing by waiting for my fucking orders.

What do you think that radio's for?

They're not calling Domino's Pizza.

L know what the fucking radio's for.

That radio's fucking Tali.

It's a cell phone to the Taliban.

So you just think it'll just be our little secret? Huh?

That's a warrior.

Schwack them.

We cannot do that.

This is a soft compromise.

You want to go to Leavenworth?

You don't know how many hajís they have down there, man.

Don't let him influence you.

Marcus, I'm iust saying, you can't just say...

Look at that child.

Make up your fucking mind and don't let him influence you.

Schwack them.

DIETZ: Mikey, it's your fucking call. I ain't fucking voting.

This is not a vote.

This is what we're gonna do. This op is compromised.

So we're going to pack up everything.

We're gonna cut them loose and we're gonna make this peak.

When we make this peak, you're gonna get comms up.

When we get these comms up, we're gonna call for extract and we're going home.

Roger that, sir.

DIETZ: Roger that. Roger.

Spartan O-1. Spartan O-1, do you copy?

Fisher? Coffee.

Spartan O-1, radio check, do you copy?

Radio check for Spartan O-1. Radio check. Spartan O-1.

Spartan O-1... Spartan O-1, do you copy?

Where are you guys going?

Just got called north!

We're QRF!

We have troops in contact!

But we're fucking QRF!

We're going! We have TIC!

BRIAN: What the fuck ís wíth the Apaches?

HASSLERT: Troops ín contact.

Limited resources, Chief. There ain't enough Apaches.

That's fucked up.

They'll be back.

(GOATS BLEATING)

Hey. Hey.

You just won the lottery.

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Any station, listen up. Please relay to Spartan O-1.

Spartan to base, do you copy?

Spartan O-1, Spartan O-1 to base, do you copy?

(GROANING)

Fuck.

Oh, fuck!

(PANTING)

False summit.

Fuck! LUTTRELL: Yeah.

MURPHY: Danny, get me some comms.

Come on. Spartan Base, this is Spartan O-1. Over.

What do you want to do?

Go home. Get in bed, watch Anchorman.

Yeah, roger that. What do you think?

L think we did the right thing.

L think we let our love light shine.

Fuck me!

L mean, isn't that how things work?

Good things happen to good people?

This is a bad spot.

Danny, I got nothing here on sat. Give me something.

L don't have fucking shit.

How do you feel?

This is a bad spot.

You okay?

All set.

Good. Let's fall back to that tree line. Wait till sundown.

If we can't make comms, we're walking home anyways, gents.

Let's get some rest.

Pack up, let's move.

(WHISPERING) Fuck.

COMMS MAN: Spartan O-1, Spartan to base, do you copy?

Spartan O-1, radio check, do you copy?

Sir, they've now missed three windows.

Okay. (SIGHS)

MARINE: Commander Shríyer, there's a call for you on líne 17.

Roger.

Commander Shriver.

Uh, sir, this is Erik.

For your S.A., we have missed three comm windows with Spartan O-1.

Last known comms were at 0700.

Why am I hearing this from you right now?

Sir, we expected to have some comms problems.

Murphy and I discussed and agreed that we would not start a spin

until after he missed two windows.

Ls there a fucking problem here, Erik?

Sir, I've told you everything I have at this point.

L will call you when I have more information.

This is Commander Kristensen out.

Fuck.

(MEN YELLING IN DISTANCE)

(WHISPERING) I'm going to do some recon. Be back in two minutes.

You want some company? Negative.

I'm going to do about two minutes of recon. Be right back.

(TWIGS CRACKING)

(WHISPERING) We're about to get contacted.

How fucking fast are these guys?

Fast.

What are you thinking?

I'm thinking we're about getting fixing to get into a pretty good gun fight.

Copy that.

Looks like I voted wrong.

Negative.

We just got the opportunity

to make hell fucking strong contact with our friend from the other side.

Job well done.

Hoo-yah to that, sir.

Danny, get ready to fíght.

Hey, Mikey...

I'm about ready to punch that timecard.

(WHISPERING) Do it.

(CLICKS)

(GUN FIRING)

(DISTANT SHOUTING)

(GUNS FIRING)

Push left! Marcus, move!

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

Moving!

(GRUNTING)

LUTTRELL: Motherfucker.

(GUN FIRES)

Spartan Base, this is Spartan O-1.

Request immediate QRF! Troops in contact!

(GROANS)

Fuck! Fuck.

(GRUNTS)

(GROANS)

Fucking shit! Motherfuck!

Motherfucker!

(GUN FIRING)

(GROANS)

(SHOUTS IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(GROANS)

Allahu Akbar!

(BOTH GRUNTING)

MURPHY: Contact, twelve o'clock!

(GRUNTING)

(GUN FIRING)

(GROANS)

Axe?

Yeah.

(SOLDIERS SHOUTING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(LUTTRELL PANTING)

LUTTRELL: Mikey. Left is good.

L say again, left is good.

(GUNS FIRING)

Mikey!

Left is not good! I say again, left is not good!

Roger that! Push right!

(SOLDIER SHOUTS IN LocAL DIALEcT)

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

(GUNFIRE STOPS)

MURPHY: We are good right.

Push right. Push right.

Push ríght.

(GUNSHOT)

(GROANS) Murph, down!

Goddamn motherfuckers!

Fuck you!

Smoke out!

Hey! Consolidate on Mikey!

(GROANS)

(GUN SHOT)

(GROANS)

(GROANS)

Shit! Fuck!

Right is no good! Right is no good!

Move!

(GUN FIRING)

Back! Back!

First man!

Mikey! Consolidate on me!

(GUNS FIRE)

Fuck.

(SHOUTS IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(GRUNTS)

(YELLS)

I think we can take 'em, Mikey, but we're gonna need a new spot!

Roger that! Danny, comms!

Negative! Radio's down hard, it took some rounds!

You got crypto? DIETZ: Yeah!

Gas the fucking radio, we're moving!

Roger that!

DIETZ: Shit!

Ow, fuck!

Ow! Fuck!

Marcus, on me!

Fuck!

We're falling back!

You mean fall off?

MURPHY: Yeah! LUTTRELL: Fuck!

MURPHY: Axe!

Axe, on me!

Ready? Move it!

(SHOUTING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

MURPHY: Ready? DIETZ: Roger!

LUTTRELL: Go, go, go!

(YELLING)

(GRUNTING)

LUTTRELL: Jesus.

(GRUNTS) Shit.

(GRUNTING) Oh, my God.

Fuck.

(GRUNTS)

(GROANING)

(COUGHS)

LUTTRELL: I lost my rifle.

My rifle. My...

(GASPING)

Shit.

(PANTING)

You see? God's looking out for us.

If that's God looking out for us, I'd hate to see him pissed.

Oh, God... thank you, thank you!

Where's Axe?

(GROANS) That sucked.

They fuck... They fucking shot me.

MURPHY: Livin' in the past, Danny.

We're all shot, bro. Can you fight?

(EXHALES) Messed up my drawing hand, that pisses me off.

LUTTRELL: All right, we're good.

We iust gotta get to flat ground,

then we take these motherfuckers, that's it.

(GUN FIRING)

(GROANS)

(GUNS FIRING)

Fucking foot!

DIETZ: Goddamn, this sucks! MURPHY: Oh, fuck.

LUTTRELL: Fuck you.

DIETZ: Fuck!

Damn! Fucking burns!

Danny. DIETZ: I can fight.

Way to go, buddy.

MURPHY: Peel left! Peel left!

AXELSON: Peel left! Peel left!

Last man!

Let me see it. You okay? Give me your arm. Yeah.

LUTTRELL: Whoa. Passing to the left!

(GUN FIRING)

(GRUNTS)

AXELSON: (OVER RADIO) Come on down!

(EXPLOSION) (cRoANs)

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

(PANTING)

(GROANS)

Danny!

Let's go.

Get them up! Come on.

(PANTING)

Come on.

Come on.

Over...

(GRUNTING)

Come on.

Come on!

Come on. Come on. Come on.

(GRUNTING)

Come on. Find a fucking strap.

Get him up. Get him up.

Come on. Fuck.

Get him. Get him up.

(GRUNTING)

(GASPING)

Fuck. Fuck.

(ALL PANTING)

AXELSON: I got two mags, one frag.

LUTTRELL: Hey. (muTTERINc)

Oh, man.

LUTTRELL: Hey.

DIETZ: (PANTING) Oh.

This is bad here.

Mmm.

This is a fucking problem.

MURPHY: Fucking no comms.

Fucking comms.

You're okay, right? Shot me up pretty good, bro.

(SHUSHES)

LUTTRELL: This hand, let me see.

You're all right. Look at me. Hey, look at me.

You okay? Huh?

Suck it the fuck up, okay, Danny? You're a fucking frogman.

Fuck, I lost my med kit.

You got a little hit in the leg, okay? Lookit here.

You okay?

(GROANS)

Hold on. Okay.

(WHIMPERS) There.

Okay? Okay. Okay. Lay back. Lay back.

Let me see, Mikey. Come here. Let me see it.

Fuck.

You pack it with some fuckin' dirt, tight, you hear me?

Keep it packed tight, all right?

L fucking love Afghanistan.

LUTTRELL: Come here, buddy. Hold up. Yeah, we're all set.

Let me see. Let me see you. (sHusHEs)

(WHISPERING) Get your head down. Let me see.

All right, heads down. (wHispERING) Get your head down.

LUTTRELL: Let me see you. Come here. Keep your head down.

(GROANS)

Let me see you. I'm good.

Yeah, I know you're good. L know you're good. Easy.

Mikey, how'd they get us so fast? Shut the fuck up!

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

DIETZ: Do you fucking see them? (sHusHEs)

LUTTRELL: Bro... (sHusHEs)

I just don't understand how fucking fast they were, man.

Oh, fuck. I just...

Fucking faster than we are?

They're not faster than us.

L was fucking talkin' to my mom.

She didn't fuckin' say nothin' about...

She didn't fucking say nothing! Danny, suck it the fuck up.

(SHUSHES)

(EXCLAIMS)

Oh, fuck, such vivid reds. Oh!

(GUNS FIRING) We got to move, Mikey.

(SOLDIERS SHOUTING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

MURPHY: Fuck. LUTTRELL: Mikey, what do you want?

Axe, smoke!

Smoke up!

LUTTRELL: Smoke 'em!

LUTTRELL: Oh, they're coming!

Get the fuck up and get your fucking legs working,

you hear me? DIETZ: Yeah.

LUTTRELL: Come on, let's go!

(DIETZ PANTING FRANTICALLY)

LUTTRELL: Let's go!

MURPHY: You got Danny? LUTTRELL: I got him.

MURPHY: Axe, we're moving down! Move where?

Down!

Good to go.

(GRUNTING)

(GASPS)

LUTTRELL: Danny! Danny!

(GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

(GRUNTING)

(GASPS)

(COUGHS) (RATTLING)

(COUGHING)

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS spEAKINc LocAL DIALEcT)

(COUGHING)

RPG. RPG.

LUTTRELL: Fuck!

(GUNS FIRING)

You good Danny?

Where's Danny? Where's Danny? I don't see him.

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

AXELSON: Is he hit? Is he hit?

Ls he hit?

Where is he? Where's Danny? I don't see him.

Where is he?

He's up top. What?

He's up top. He got... Where?

He got hit in the head. Up top where?

LUTTRELL: Fuck. (cuNs FIRINc)

AXELSON: We gotta go get him. Up top where?

We got to go get him. Up top.

AXELSON: (ECHOING) Where's Danny? Díd he get hít?

We got to go get him. We gotta get him.

We got to get up there and get him.

We can take 'em on flat ground. We gotta get up top.

We get up there, we get him, get him down the hill,

and them we can take 'em on flat ground. We take 'em on flat ground.

(EXPLOSION) MURPHY: Fuck!

(GROANING)

MURPHY: Come on! Axe, get up here now!

Get him up here.

Come on, Axe, you gotta get down!

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS spEAKINc LocAL DIALEcT)

(BEEPS)

(INDISTINCT YELLING ovER RADlo)

LUTTRELL: Oh, fuck!

We're gonna go get Danny up top

and then we're gonna come back down and fight on flat ground,

we're gonna kill 'em all.

Marcus, you good?

I'm good!

Axe, you're security, and let's go.

Roger.

Let's move.

(GROANING)

Moving!

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

MURPHY: Let's move!

(GRUNTING)

(GROANS)

You can die for your country. I'm going to live for mine.

Fuck.

Fuck!

MURPHY: Marcus, move!

LUTTRELL: Moving!

L don't think we can get up from here.

We ain't out-fuckin'-flankin' 'em, Mikey.

We got to find another way.

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(DIETZ WHEEZING)

M-4.

I'm going to make the call to QRF.

You ain't making no fuckin' comms with that sat phone, Mikey.

Look at me.

I'm going to make the call.

No. No, Mikey.

No. Fuck that.

No. No. Fuck that, Mikey.

Take it. You fuckin' take it.

(PANTING)

Mikey, give me the fuckin'...

I'm sorry, Mike.

For what?

That we haven't killed more of these fuckers.

Oh, don't be fuckin' sorry. We're gonna fuckin' kill way more of 'em.

Fuck!

Marcus.

Never out of the fight.

(GRUNTING)

AXELSON: What's he doing, Marcus?

Murphy's moving! Murphy's moving!

Where is he going?

Oh, fuck!

Murphy's movíng!

Oh, fuck.

L am the Reaper.

Fuck.

Fucking A.

(GUN FIRING)

Fuck!

(RINGING)

(PHONE RINGING)

J-Bad TOC. Sergeant Hasslert.

Thís ís Líeutenant Míke Murphy. Spartan O-1.

We need immediate air support.

(GUNS FIRING) (GRoANING)

We need help.

We are heading down the ravine towards the Chichal Village.

Roger that, Murphy.

We need immediate CAS.

Lieutenant, I need your ten-digit grid.

Please hurry, sir.

Murphy, I need those gríds. Thank you.

(GRUNTING) Oh, God.

Líeutenant.

Líeutenant, can you hear me? Líeutenant!

Líeutenant, Get me the gríds!

Líeutenant!

(WHEEZING)

Let's go, guys! Everybody, let's move! Let's really move!

Let's go, let's go!

CHINOOK PILOT: lulu 06, Bruno 6-4.

Wheels up, Bagram, wíth QRf of 1-6 Eagles.

HASSLERT: No go, no go!

No go! You're grounded!

What's the fucking problem?

These Black Hawks cannot fly without Apache cover!

Where are the fucking Apaches?

On their way back now. They're turning around.

This is fucking unbelievable!

No shit!

CHINOOK PILOT: Sír, we are four míkes out from the zone.

KRISTENSEN OVER RADIO: four míkes!

Look alíve, gentlemen.

CHINOOK PILOT: Bruno 64 report Míke Bravo plus fíve. Altímeter 2998.

(PANTING)

Where's Mike?

Where's Murphy?

Up top.

Where up top?

He's getting the QRF.

Where exactly is Mike?

If I knew exactly where the fuck he was, I would tell you, brother!

Ls he squared away?

Oh, fuck. Let me see you.

Oh.

Motherfuckers.

Did they really shoot me in the fucking head?

Yeah, buddy.

Are Mikey and Danny really dead?

L don't know.

Are we dead?

Negative.

We're good, right?

Fuck, yeah.

We're solid.

If I die, I need you to make sure

that Cindy knows how much I love her.

She knows.

And that I died with my brothers

with a full fucking heart.

You're not dying, Axe. We're not gonna...

(EXPLOSION) (cAsPs)

(GUNS FIRING)

We gotta spread out. Get yourself some real estate.

TOC COMMAND: 64, be advísed.

Negatíve Apache support. LZ ís too hot. Stand down.

What's the problem?

The Apaches were pulled. We're grounded.

Why?

Some Army troops ín contact.

They took our gunshíp support.

Can you put us on the ground wíthout the Apaches?

CHINOOK PILOT: We'll do what we have to do to get you

on the ground wíth your men.

Thank you.

CHINOOK PILOT 1: Bruno 65, contínue 030, we're stíll a go.

CHINOOK PILOT 2: Roger, 65.

CHINOOK PILOT 1: We're on our own. Stay tíght.

Axe?

Axe?

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS YELLING)

CHINOOK PILOT 1: Commander, we're two míkes out.

Get your men ready. CHINOOK PILOT 2: Uh-huh. Uh, roger that.

Two míkes! Two míkes!

Marcus!

Marcus!

(PANTING)

(LAUGHS)

Yeah!

CHINOOK PILOT: Bruno 64, two míkes out. Go!

Gonna be a fast ínfíl. Establísh overwatch.

Rope deployed and on the ground.

Whoo! Axe!

CHINOOK PILOT: fast ínfíl now.

Let's do this! Patton! You're first! Move!

CHINOOK PILOT: fírst team member on the rope.

(LAUGHS)

(YELLING)

You good?

Couldn't be more good!

RPG! Fuck!

No.

, CHINOOK PILOT: fuck, throttle's off throttle's oFF!

Oh, shít, throttle's off!

Brace for ímpact! Brace for ímpact!

Fucking down!

CHINOOK PILOT 2: Mayday, mayday! Bruno 64 ís down.

Duck!

(GUNS FIRING)

Put us down! Put us the fuck down!

Put this fucking helicopter down!

CHINOOK PILOT 2: Stand the fuck down, Líeutenant.

Wait!

Don't you fucking stop! Come on!

CHINOOK PILOT 2: Stand down, Líeutenant. We're not goíng down there.

Keep fucking firing!

CHINOOK PILOT 2: We have a fallen angel.

64 ís down hard. Broke up on ímpact.

LZ ís too hot. We have to break contact.

No...

No, no, fucking no.

Ah!

(GUN FIRING)

(GUN SHOT)

(GROANS)

(WHEEZES)

(WHEEZING)

(CONTINUES WHEEZING)

(GASPS)

(GUN SHOT)

APACHE PILOT 1: Razor 11 en route to crash síte, fíve míkes out, rejoíníng QRf.

APACHE PILOT 2: 06 copy, fíve míkes out. Be advísed, AO ís stíll hot.

(GRUNTING)

Axe?

Oh, my God.

Fuck! Axe?

Fuck.

(EXPLOSION)

(GRUNTING)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(SOLDIERS YELLING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(HELICOPTER APPROACHING)

(TARAQ INSTRUCTING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

APACHE PILOT 1: You see any movement?

APACHE PILOT 2: I got nothíng.

O6, 11. Infrared negatíve. Movement negatíve.

TOC COMMAND: Copy all, 11.

APACHE PILOT 1: 06, wejust hít fuel reserve. We need to come oFF-statíon.

11 returníng to base.

TOC COMMAND: Roger. Copy all.

(EXHALES)

(PANTING)

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

(GROANS)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Oh, fuck.

(COUGHS)

(PANTING)

(GRUNTING IN PAIN)

(FLIES BUZZING)

(PANTING)

Fuck.

(SOBS IN AGONY)

(PANTING)

(GRUNTING)

Fuck.

(GRUNTING)

(GUNFIRE IN DISTANCE)

(GRUNTING)

(GASPING)

(PANTING)

GULAB: No. No.

(SPEAKING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

Stay back! Stay the fuck back!

Back up!

Stay back.

(SPEAKING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

I don't care. L fucking...

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS SHOUTING IN LocAL DIALEcT)

(SHUSHING)

(WHISPERING)

What the fuck is this? Oh, fuck.

(WHISPERING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

I got this.

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS YELLING)

(URGES)

(YELLING CONTINUES)

(GRUNTING)

(VILLAGERS MURMURING)

(PANTING) No. No. No.

(MAN SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(GULAB PACIFYING IN LocAL DIALEcT)

(PANTING)

(MEN SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

What?

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

You... You know where to find Americans?

Americayee.

Show... Show me where we are.

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Are you sure? Yes.

(PROTESTS IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(GULAB PACIFYING IN LocAL DIALEcT)

(HILLEL PROTESTS IN LocAL DIALEcT)

(PACIFYING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

Who's that?

(MEN ARGUING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

Who's that? Who is that?

Who is that? Who is that? Who is that?

You see? Do you see what I have? I'll fucking kill you!

L will fuckin' kill you!

Ls he... Is he Taliban?

(ARGUMENT CONTINUES) Is he Taliban? Is he Taliban?

L will fucking kill you. I will fucking kill you right now.

L know he fucking knows something.

You tell him I will fucking kill him.

Look at me in my fuckin' eyes

and you ask me ifyou think I give a fuck!

L don't care. I don't go home, you don't go home.

You hear me?

L fucking kill you! L kill you.

(GULAB PACIFYING IN LocAL DIALEcT)

Why do you help me? Why do you help me?

Do you help me?

GULAB: Yes. Can I trust you?

Americayee.

Okay.

Okay.

There's an American base located here. Give this to them.

Tell them where I am. Tell them where I am.

Americayee. Okay?

(GULAB SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(DOOR CLOSES)

(DOGS BARKING) (TALIBAN soLDIERs vELLING IN LocAL DIALEcT)

(VILLAGERS WAILING)

(VILLAGERS PANICKING)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(MEN YELLING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(GROANING)

No! No, no! No! Get the fuck off me!

(LUTTRELL GROANING)

No! No! Fuck, no!

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Fuck you!

Fuck you, America!

Cry, motherfucker!

Fucking do it! Fucking do it, you fuck! Huh?

Fuck!

Fuck! Fuck!

I'm gonna cut your head off and send it to your fucking American...

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Yeah, fuck you!

(GUN FIRING)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(PANTING)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Why are you doing this for me?

Fuck Taliban. Fuck Taliban.

(INDISTINCT ARGUMENT)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

I need a knife.

A knife. Cut.

Knife.

You know, knife? Cut.

Okay? Go get a knife.

Knife.

Yes! Yes, a knife, to cut. Okay? Go.

Go get me a knife. Please? Please.

(YELLING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(DUCK QUACKS)

No, l... l said a knife. That's not a knife.

Knife.

No. It's not a knife. It's a fucking duck!

L need a knife. You know, knife? To cut.

Knife.

That's not...

I need a knife.

A knife... You know, a knife?

Chaku.

Chaku?

Yes! Yes! Knife, yes!

No, no! No, no, no, no!

For my leg. Please.

Give me the knife, for my leg.

(GRUNTS)

Fuck.

(PANTING)

(GRUNTING)

(WHIMPERING)

(PANTING)

(WATER SLOSHING)

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS spEAKINc LocAL DIALEcT)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(GASPS)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(GRUNTING)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

(SNIFFS)

(GULAB SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(GASPING)

(COUGHING)

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

(LUTTRELL COUGHING)

GULAB: Americayee?

Texas.

GULAB: Americayee?

Yes, Texas. America is Texas, yes.

Tex.

Texas.

Texas.

Why are you doing this for me?

(EXPLOSION)

(GUNS FIRING) (vlLLAGERs scREAmlNG)

(TALIBAN SOLDIERS YELLING IN LocAL DIALEcT)

MARINE: Sir, we have a verified letter

from Marcus Luttrell seeking assistance.

L want all available CSAR up in the air and moving on this right now.

(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)

TOC COMMAND: Spartan QRf proceed to Kandísh víllage. Over.

L want continuous ISR over this situation.

Put me everything in the air. Yes, sir.

Gentlemen, keep your lines free. Those guys are busy at the other end.

All non-essential personnel, get the fuck out!

(GRUNTS)

(GUN FIRE)

(GUN FIRING)

(PANTING)

(YELLS IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(SHOUTS ANGRILY)

(AGONIZED GROANING)

APACHE PILOT 1: Razor 11 en route to víllage. Ten míkes out.

Copy that.

TOC COMMAND: 06 copíes. Ten míkes out.

(YELLING)

(SHOUTS IN LOCAL DIALECT)

(GRUNTING)

(CHOKING)

(GUN FIRING)

(GASPING)

(HELICOPTER HOVERING)

(YELLING)

(GROANING)

(CHOKING)

Chaku.

(PANTING)

APACHE PILOT 2: Tallyíng multíple hostíles. Are we clear to engage?

(YELLING IN LOCAL DIALECT)

TOC COMMAND: Razor 12, you are clear to engage.

(MACHINE GUNS FIRING)

(GROANING)

(OVER RADIO) Contact ríght! Contact ríght!

Two on the le Ft!

We're clear ríght!

BLACK HAWK PILOT 1: Halo 4-1. Vísual red smoke.

FLIGHT COMMAND: Halo 4-2, you are cleared for the zone.

BLACK HAWK PILOT 2: Halo 4-2. Establíshed low block. On approach.

BLACK HAWK PILOT 1: Nínety feet, 45 knots.

BLACK HAWK ENGINEER: Clear forward. Down ríght.

BLACK HAWK GUNNER: Clear to the LZ.

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

CREW CHIEF: Let's go. Moye.

Go. Go, go, go, go.

There's an Amerícan! In the door!

What do you see? What do you see?

(WOMAN SHRIEKING) Any Americans?

American? This way?

MAN: (OVER RADIO) Go, go, ríght!

Go!

Let me see your hands!

Are you Marcus Luttrell?

You're safe, Marcus. You're going home.

CREW CHIEF: Comin' out!

Outsíde, walkín' hím out, comín' outsíde.

Here we go, all right, Marcus.

Hey, hey, watch yourself here! Watch it!

Come on, we gotta go, we gotta go. He comes with me.

Sir. That's not going to happen, sir.

You can stay here. You'll be safe.

You can't come with us. These guys will take care of you. You'll be safe.

Wait! Wait!

Thank you. Thank you!

(SPEAKING LOCAL DIALECT)

Let's go, sir. We gotta go now. Let's move.

Let's go! CREW CHIEF: I'm sorry, Marcus, we gotta move. Let's go.

Thank you.

Let's go, we got to go!

Got him. He'll be fine. I got you. Thank you.

Let's go! Let's move, come on, here we go.

Come on, we're wheels up in 30.

Come on, Marcus. Easy.

Here we go, Marcus.

Jackpot! Say again, jackpot! We got him!

MAN: (OVER RADIO) Patíent upgraded to urgent surgícal. Prepare uníts of blood.

Multíple gunshot wounds found on secondary survey.

Update ready to follow. Say when ready to copy.

LUTTRELL: Braye men haye fought and díed buíldíng the proud tradítíon

and fear of reputatíon that I am bound to uphold.

L díed up on that mountaín.

No pulse. DOCTOR: Okay, start CPR.

One, two, three...

There ís no questíon

a part of me wíll forever be up on that mountaín, dead...

As my brothers díed.

But there ís a part of me that líved because of my brothers.

Because of them, I am stíll alíve.

And I can never forget that no matter how much ít hurts,

how dark ít gets, or how far you fall...

Hey, Luttrell. Luttrell!

(BEEPING)

We got a pulse.

You are never out of the fíght.