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Rendezvous points and radio freqs
are indicated and fixed.
- AWACS contact on four-hour intervals.
- Who's our backup?
No such thing, old buddy.
This is a one-way ticket.
Once we cross that border, we're on our own.
This is getting better by the minute.
Hey, Billy.
Billy! The other day
I went up to my girlfriend. I said,
"You know, I'd like a little pussy."
She said, "Me, too. Mine's as big as a house!"
You see, she wanted
a littler one cos hers was...
...big as a house.
Get that stinkin' shit out of my face.
Bunch of slack-jawed faggots around here!
This stuff'll make you
a goddamn sexual tyrannosaurus,
just like me.
Strap this on your sore ass, Blain.
That was in '72. Me and Dutch both got one.
That's a real nasty habit you got there.
You got it, Leader.
Never knew how much I missed this, Dutch.
You never were that smart.
Hawkins, you're up.
Lines away.
The pilots have been shot in the head.
Whoever hit it stripped the shit out of it.
- Took 'em out with a heat seeker.
- There's something else, Major.
This is no ordinary army taxi.
It looks more like a surveillance bird to me.
- Pick up the trail yet?
- Billy's on it.
Heat seeker, Dillon. Pretty sophisticated
for a bunch of half-assed mountain boys.
I guess they're getting
better equipped every day.
There were 12 guerrillas.
They took the two men from the helicopter,
but there's something else.
- What do you mean?
- Six men wearing US-issued army boots.
They came in from the north,
and then they followed the guerrillas.
Mean anything to you?
Probably just another rebel patrol.
They operate in here all the time.
- Get ahead and see what you can find.
- Yes, sir.
What's he got?
Same business. Guerrillas hauling
two guys from the chopper,
followed by men with American equipment.
Do you remember Afghanistan?
Trying to forget it. Come on. Let's go.
Holy mother of God.
Jim Hopper.
Mac, cut 'em down.
I knew these men.
Green Berets out of Fort Bragg.
What the hell were they doing here?
I don't know, Dutch. This is inhuman.
Nobody told me
there was an operation in this area.
- They shouldn't have been here.
- Well, somebody sent them.
The guerrillas skinned them?
Why did they skin them?
Ain't no way for no soldier to die.
- What happened here, Billy?
- Strange, Major.
There was a firefight.
They were shooting in all directions.
I can't believe Hopper
walked into an ambush.
I don't believe he did.
I can't find a single track.
- Itjust doesn't make sense.
- What about the rest of Hopper's men?
There's no sign, sir.
They never left here.
Hell, it's like they just disappeared.
Stick with the guerrilla trail.
Let's get the hostages.
We move, five-metre spread. No sound.
It's time to let old painless out the bag.
Payback time.
You're ghostin' us, motherfucker.
I don't care who you are back in the world.
You give our position one more time,
I'll bleed you, real quiet, and leave you here.
Got that?
Fuck you.
He killed one of the hostages. We move.
Mac, Blain-the nest.
Billy, Poncho-the guard.
Hawkins, Dillon-backup.
As soon as they're set, I hit the fuel dump.
One down.
What the hell's he doin'?
What the fuck...?
Showtime, kid.
Target's the centre of the palapa!
Dutch, on your nine.
Get that mother!
Stick around.
Hostages inside!
Knock, knock.
I got 'em!
Hawkins, call in position and situation.
Get Con Op on the hook!
You got it, Major.
Mac! Any sign of the other hostage?
Found the other guy-he's dead, too -
and the gear from the chopper.
But if they're Central American,
I'm a goddamn Chinaman.
From the looks of it, our cabinet minister was
CIA. Another thing, Major. They were lucky.
Other guys they waxed...
were Russian military advisers.
Something pretty big
was gonna happen here.
Good work, Mac. Clear the area. No traces.
- Get the men ready to move.
- All right.
Son of a bitch is dug in like an Alabama tick.
- You're hit. You're bleedin',

- ?

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