All language subtitles for Bloodfist VI Ground Zero

(dramatic music)

(hawk screeching)

(Tori gasping)

- Paul, you scared me to death.

What are you doing here?

- [Paul] I just came
by to say good morning.

- Morning.
- Hey.

- At ease, soldier.

(ominous music)

- Morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- Replacement team's up, yes sir.

(Paul sighing)

(electronic beeping)

- You're all flushed.

- Yeah, another early-morning workout.

- Yeah, I'll bet.

- See you at 12.

- All right, do your job, guys.

(electronic beeping)

- [Robotic Voice] Stand clear.

- [Paul] Gentlemen!

- Goddamn, it's about fuckin' time, huh?

- [Paul] Oh, we missed you guys, too.

- Corey's pissed, he's
got a screw up his ass.

He got his whoopee cushion last night.

- Corey's fuckin' pissed
'cause Corey has hemorrhoids

from sittin' in this
fuckin' chair for 12 hours.

- Hell, I sit at the
same chair, buddy, okay?

(alarm beeping)
Whoa, a perimeter breacher.

All right, I've got heat
sensors and seismic activity.

Protestors again.

- No, it's too early for that.

Jackrabbits.

- Shit, it looks like Easter out there.

- I can't figure out how they keep gettin'

through there, you know?

- Kill it.

Yeah, it's a false alarm, thanks.

(suspenseful music)

- Clear!

(explosion booming)

(hatch squeaking)

- On my mark.

Now.

- Thank you.

- All right, a little present for you.

(tense music)

(dramatic music)

- [Dispatch] Vehicle six, come in, please.

- Six, go ahead.

- [Dispatch] Got a flight
delayed at Ellsworth.

Gonna reroute you to A-14,
and proceed as planned.

- Copy that.

- [Dispatch] And chop, chop, Corrigan.

Don't get lost on us again, you idiot.

- I think I can handle it.

(tires screeching)

- Yes sir, we have
confirmation of the problem.

We can override the system from here, sir.

- SAC again?
- Yeah.

Another relay glitch, and it's got to be

at the linking station.

- Yeah?
- Heh.

Yeah, ghost in the machine.

I hate this crap.

- Well, what the fuck did ya expect?

The last time they
updated any of this shit,

Eisenhower was in office.

By the way Hicks, I left you
a little reading material,

so enjoy that.

- We need to find you
a nice enlisted girl.

You know that, Corey?
(Corey chuckling)

- Then you can come in late every day.

- Fuck you.

Tell you what, you can
keep the nice girls,

leave me the bad ones, all right?

Good night.

- Adios, muchahas.
(electronic beeping)

(dramatic music)

- We got company.

Whoa, hold it right there.

Whoa!

Sir, I'm afraid you're
gonna have to turn around.

This is a restricted area.

- But I don't know where.

- See Tillman's girlfriend yet?

- Yeah.

Hey, hold on.

Looks like we got some tourists again.

- Eh, don't worry about
it, Davis will handle it.

- Where you headin', sir?

- It's my wife.

There's something wrong.

- What-what's the problem, sir?

- She's not breathing!

- Not breathing?

Call it in.

(dramatic music)

Okay sir, where is she?

(silenced gun firing)

(Hassad yelling)

(phone ringing)

- Go ahead.

Go ahead.

Go ahead.

Hey, looks like those tourists left.

(chuckling)

- Come on guys, let's go!

(suspenseful music)

Lose that wagon!

Come on, get your asses going here!

Let's go, move it!

(electronic beeping)

- [Terrorist] Go!

- Hey, someone's coming down
in the elevator from topside.

(guns firing)
(Gates screaming)

(Gates laughing)

- They're coming up!

- Hey!
(silenced gun firing)

- Eight minutes.

You know what to do.

Let's go!

(suspenseful music)

(phone ringing)

- Getting nothing topside.

- What?

(guns firing)
(men groaning)

- Yeah, it's done!

(electronic beeping)

- I got a bad feeling about this...

(key jingling)

(door whirring)

(guns firing)
(Hicks groaning)

(Paul groaning)

- Get those keys.

(keys jingling)

(Paul groaning)

Wait.

Search him.

(dramatic music)

- Plug in.

(electronic warbling)

Echo 1 to Echo 2, come in.

- Echo 2, go.

- Stay on my mark.

Three, two, one, mark.

- Now!

(electronic warbling)

- Got it.

We're clear.

- Echo 2, finish your
uplink and return home.

- [Terrorist] Copy, 15 minutes.

- And three, two, one...

- [Terrorist] Vault four clear.

- [Terrorist] Vault two and four, clear.

- Two and four, proceed to the next phase,

and all return.

(keyboard clacking)

(electronic beeping)

- Major Tillman.

My friend Sabian here would
like to try out our new toy.

I hope we are not imposing.

Cigarette?

You know, 10, 15 years ago,

getting these launch codes
would have been impossible.

Thank God for western technology, hmm?

And a little ingenuity.

10 little numbers.

And two little keys.

You know, if I had all of these things,

I would be sitting on
quite a hefty stockpile.

Wouldn't you agree, Major?

- When SAC finds out, it's all over.

(terrorists laughing)

- I would not consider myself a threat.

You see, we are not, uh, robbing
a convenience store here.

It's called planning ahead.

Look into it.

Besides, less than 20 control personnel

guarding the entire site?

- 18, to be exact.

- The Cold War is over, my friend.

Anyhow, there was something
I wanted to ask you.

What was it?

Ah, yes.

I think you know what I want.

And you know that I know

that you know what I'm talking about here.

Now correct me if I'm wrong.

I'll give you a little hint.

First letter K!
(Paul groaning)

Second letter?

Second letter E!
(Paul groaning)

You're not fun, come on!

Third letter Y!
(Paul groaning)

Put them together, Major.

What do they spell?

Hmm?

Please?

(terrorists laughing)

I mean, I really dislike violence.

But, you have us over a barrel, you see?

Now, where is it?

Okay.

Fine.

A man of honor, right?

Bring her in.

(tense music)

Well, well!

You're a lucky man.

A very lucky man, Major Tillman.

But you're predictable.

So...

What do you say, beautiful?

Does the Major talk in his sleep?

No, you can trust us.

- Sounds like the cat is scared to talk.

- Paul, please!

- Is that true?

Does a pussy have your tongue?

- She doesn't know anything!

- Uh, Major, we're
talking to her now, okay?

Now I asked you a question.

- Paul!

- You know, I never really
understood that expression,

does a cat have your tongue?

Just...

- She's of no use to you.

- Don't worry, Major.

We included you in our timetable too,

and we are way ahead of schedule.

(Tori whimpering)

- Stop!

- [Hassad] Fawkes, come in.

We have a visitor.

- Who?

- [Hassad] Looks like a courier jeep.

- I thought we were clear?

- We were!

It was scheduled an hour and a half ago.

(dramatic music)

- Get rid of him.

- [Hassad] Stop.

- Morning.

Sergeant Corrigan.

I need a signature on this one.

- What you got?

- Uh, classified.

Uh, signature match, eyes
only for Major Tillman.

- Hang on.

(tense music)

- [Hassad] The package is classified.

Major Tillman.

- What's he talkin' about?

- [Hassad] We need his
signature match, Major Tillman.

- Just kill him!

- We can't.

A signature match requires the courier

to call into dispatch to verify delivery.

If he doesn't call back
in, it could be trouble.

- Fuck it, we're running out of time!

- If Rivera and Lucas aren't
finished at the uplink,

there's a chance SAC can override us.

- Echo 1, how long?

- [Terrorist] Five minutes.

- Loose ends?

(Ali yelling)
(Paul groaning)

- Okay, let him in.

Perez, Becker, clear out.

Anything funny happens, kill them.

(Paul groaning)

(suspenseful music)

- Okay, go ahead.

Hang on.

Here you go.

Thanks.

Okay.

(door whirring)

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- Good morning, sir.
- Good morning.

- I just need you to sign right here.

- Okay.

(tense music)

Here you go.

- That'll be it.

(clapping)

- Handled like a true professional.

Unfortunately, it cut into
our playtime considerably.

But we do have an agenda to follow.

Now, if you don't produce the launch key

by the count of three,
our friend, Mr. Kurtz,

will spray her head all
over the walls, then yours.

One--
- Please, I don't want to die!

Oh God, I don't want to die!

- Tori...

They want control of the nuclear warheads.

Don't you understand?

- Two--
- Paul!

Please don't let 'em kill me!

- I'm sorry.

I have no other choice.

The key is gone.

- Gone?

Gone?

That's just fucking great, Paul.

(gun firing)

(dramatic music)

- Hassad, stop that courier!

- Copy.

(gun cocking)

(suspenseful music)

Step out of the jeep, nice and easy.

Fawkes, I got him.

- Very good.

He's got one of the launch keys.

Get it back here fast.

- [Hassad] Copy.

- You did well.

- Ooh.

It's been real.

(dramatic music)

- Wrong place, wrong time.

(both yelling and groaning)

(Nick choking)

(Hassad groaning and choking)

- [Joseph] Hassad?

Hassad, come in, do you copy?

Come in Hassad, over.

(guns firing)

Get me a visual!

- We can't override our own loop.

- Fuck it, I'm going out there.

- Ali, go with her.

And bring me that key!

- Dispatch, come in, this is Corrigan!

(guns firing)

- Shit!

(guns firing)

(Paul yelling)
- Hey!

(alarm blaring)

- Emergency defense system activated!

(terrorists groaning)

- We're locked in!

(silenced gun firing)

(electronic beeping)

- [Ali] Oh, come on.

- Shit, systems offline.

- Damn!

(air horn wailing)

(guns firing)

(explosion booming)

- Sabian, I would like you to utilize

all your intellectual prowess
and technical wizardry

to open this fucking door!

And shut off that goddamned alarm!

- That's going to take time.

Besides, we have a bigger
problem up our asses now.

They know we're here.

(electricity buzzing)
(Nick yelling)

- Corrigan, you idiot!

- You're a dead man!

Wherever the hell you are!

(air horn wailing)
(tense music)

(knife whooshing)

- Dispatch, come in!

- [Dispatch] This is dispatch.

Where the hell have you been?

- I'm at launch control A-14.

We got a problem here.

Contact someone at SAC!

- [Dispatch] Strategic
Air Command, are you nuts?

What the hell are you talking about?

- Listen to me, I don't
have time to explain.

Just call SAC, now!

(dramatic music)

(radar pinging)
- Alpha, Charlie, Zulu...

- I found this in my office.

Who's the comedian?

(sighing)

- Nice of you to show up, Major.

- What's the situation, sirs?

- As you may or may not know by now,

we've lost contact with A-14.

One of our launch control
facilities at Ellsworth.

- That facility controls
20 Minutemen 3 ICBMs.

- Each with a 1.2 megaton nuclear warhead.

We received a distress
signal, and then nothing.

Override is inoperative.

- System malfunction?

- Yes, there's a billion
to one chance of that.

- I'd say the inhibitor
cables were dismantled.

Expertly.

- By who?

What's their objective?

- Well, their objective is obviously--

- I was addressing the question
to Colonel Briggs, Major.

- Control of the missiles.

It is unknown at this time

whether or not they have
possession of the, uh, launch keys.

- Well look, it doesn't matter anyhow,

'cause they still need the launch codes,

and the possibilities of them
getting their hands on them

is very unlikely.

- Why is it so unlikely, sir?

The most recent security
modification at that facility

occurred in January, 1981.

- So what the hell is your point?

- My point is the same one
I've been making for years

regarding site security.

I've already issued
three reports this year.

- I'm well aware of your reports

and your letters and your memos.

And when we get the time,
I'll be happy to sit down

and discuss them with you, but right now,

we have a situation on our hands.

- Sir, the Major may have a point.

With advancements in-in
computer technology

and 13 years of potential security leaks--

- Colonel, if you have
anything to say, say it.

But you're not gonna tell me

that some hippie Greenpeace
faggots are gonna get in here

and infiltrate trillion dollar hardware!

There's just no way in
hell that's gonna happen!

Okay, Briggs, put us on alert status.

But I want Special
Forces on that compound.

(alarm blaring)

- Thank God.

Now open the door.

- Not so fast, brother.

I don't know what I'm shutting off,

but I'm going down the line.

- We don't have time for that.

- We don't have a choice!

So just sit back and relax.

(tense music)

(door whirring)

(suspenseful music)

(keyboard clacking)

Come on...

(electronic beeping)

- What the hell's takin' 'em?

- Relax.

- No, I mean it, we gotta get outta here.

- Come on!

(keyboard clacking)

(elevator whirring)

(electronic beeping)

(door whirring)
(suspenseful music)

(glass shattering)

(door creaking)

(Ali groaning)

(both yelling and groaning)

- Huh, sissy boy, huh?

(Ali yelling)
(Nick groaning)

(Ali groaning)

- Please don't shoot.

I'm so glad you're here.

I-I thought he was gonna kill me!

(dramatic music)

- The lines are still down.

- [Major Marin] Keep trying.

Let me know as soon as you hear anything.

- Major, hang on a sec.

I think we got something.

Ellsworth dispatch called
and said they have a courier

at A-14, some Sergeant Nick Corrigan.

And he has a radio.
- [Major Marin] Who is he?

- I don't know.

But he says he just took
out three terrorists.

- Look, they wanted the launch keys.

Major Tillman had one of 'em.

He wouldn't give it to them, so,

well, they killed him.

- Does anybody copy?

Over.

If anyone is on this
frequency, identify yourselves.

- This is Nick Corrigan.

Listen to me lady,

I told dispatch to get
me someone in charge.

Now put some brass on the phone,
we got a real problem here.

- This is Major Marin at
Strategic Air Command, Sergeant.

We need information,
where the hell are you?

- I'm inside A-14.

In case you haven't noticed,
you've got a few guests here.

- Who are they?

- I don't know.

I heard a name, Fawkes.

- Run the name Fawkes and get
General Carmichael over here.

- Once I've finished redirecting
these hatch connections,

I can cut the power locks.

- Time?

- Three minutes, tops.

Stay cool.

(electronic beeping)

- Ground defense systems are activated.

We're locked in.

- Do they have the launch keys?

- I've got what you want.

Understand?

- [Major Marin] Repeat.

- I have one of the launch keys.

- My God, he's got it!

- This is General Carmichael.

Now listen, and listen good.

I don't care what you have to do,

but get that key to a safe place.

That's an order.

- Yes, sir.

- Now we'll get you out,

but don't let them get
their hands on that key,

do you understand?

- Understood.

- Keep him on the air. I'm
gonna contact Washington.

- Listen to me, Special
Forces are on their way.

Just stay where you are.

- What else am I gonna do?

- We have to go down there and help them.

- I've got my orders.

You heard the General.

- So?

- Here.

- Thanks.

(gun clicking)

Ooh...

- You must be one of the bad guys.

- And you must be the delivery boy.

(dramatic music)

- I'll keep you posted.

- General, Colonel, I've
accessed our courier's records.

Sergeant Nick Corrigan.

- Not now, Major.

- Sir, I think you're
gonna want to look at this.

- Are you sure you have
the right files, Marin?

- [Major Marin] Yes, sir.

- Come on, former Special
Forces leader, covert ops?

This is a mistake.

- No mistake.

Look, his transfer to courier

followed a court-martial pre-trial.

- Pre-trial for what?

- It's unclear.

His file's heavily doctored.

Apparently, he rescued a US commando team

in Central America,
despite orders to pull out.

- They don't bust you
down for that, Marin.

They give you a goddamn medal.

- Well like I said, it's heavily doctored.

It sounds to me like he
walked into a cover-up.

- I don't like it, I don't like it at all.

You know, I think he's setting us up.

- Maybe.

But if this is a hostile takeover,

he's trained to survive and counterattack.

(dramatic music)

- You think you're pretty
fuckin' smart, don't you?

- The world's a dangerous place.

You can't be too careful nowadays.

- You're not bad.

But you never stood a chance against us.

It's called survival of the fittest.

Look into it.

Now, I am going to ask you this once.

Where is the key?

- Could you repeat the question?

- Hey, we got choppers.

Incoming!

(Nick groaning)

- Ali!

You two, you know what
to do, seal us up tight!

Everyone else, downstairs!

- Move, sissy boy.

Get in there!

(chopper blades whirring)
- Start up here,

clear for landing, over.

- [Pilot] Roger, Red Dog.

We've got you in sights.

- Search him.

Cut him open if you have to.

Get rid of him.

- Yeah, yeah!

(soldiers groaning)

(gun firing)

(Gates yelling)

(electronic beeping)

- Sabian?

Time to re-target.

Enter launch key.

- [Sabian] Entering launch key.

- Wait a minute.

What are we doing here?

- Declaring our intentions.

Rotate launch key on my mark.

Two, one, mark.

(electronic beeping)

Now...

Now it's time to answer the phone.

- Those sons of bitches have
activated the launch sequence!

- So much for our hero.

- General, it's them.

(suspenseful music)

(Nick breathing heavily)

- On behalf of the Party of Allah,

a pleasant good morning.

- This is General Carmichael
at Strategic Air Command.

Who am I speaking to?

- You needn't concern yourself with that.

I will merely tell you what we want

in order for you to arrange
it as quickly as possible.

- Yeah, well-well, look.

We want to avoid any
unnecessary tragedies.

You understand?

- If there is the least amount
of resistance on your part,

the world will witness a great,

great horror from the skies.

- As I said, we want
to avoid any tragedies.

I have to know what you want in return.

- [Joseph] The brethren
of the Party of Allah

demand from you $100
million dollars in gold.

And...

(suspenseful music)

(Nick breathing heavily)

(terrorists yelling and groaning)

(glass shattering)

(gun firing)

- They're checking that out.

Well?

- They call themselves the Party
of Allah, for Christ sakes.

The son of a bitch wants
$100 million in gold,

and a jet fueled at the ready.

So what else is new?

Big surprise.

They'll never get out
alive, not if I can help it.

- I'll run Party of
Allah, see what we get.

- Whatever we get, they gave us 12 hours.

- I want a chopper ready
for liftoff in 10 minutes.

(electronic beeping)

- Despite a few setbacks,
we are four digits away

from achieving what they
said would be impossible.

- Oh, baby, I can't stop
thinking about all that money.

(chuckling)

We have them right where we want them now.

They have to do everything we say.

So, where do you wanna go?

Paris?

Rio?

We never decided.

- That's because every
plan is subject to change.

- What do you mean?

- Just that.

(suspenseful music)

(electronic beeping)

(door whirring)

What happened?

What the hell happened, Perez?

- He got away.

He took out Gates.

- Enough is enough.

This fucker's gotta die.

Come on, guys.

Let's get him!

- Corrigan!

You were a worthy opponent,
but you've done enough damage.

Now, you are going to die.

But don't worry.

We will tell the world
of your coward's death.

You know, it's a shame you
die for no cause, Corrigan.

The Prophet says when more
people would die for a cause,

the stronger that cause shall become.

(dramatic music)
(soldiers shouting)

(chopper blades whirring)

- General, we finally
came up with something

on this Party of Allah.

It's a small, Islamist
fundamentalist organization

out of New York.

FBI has an open file on them,

and one of the four
members is Joseph Fawkes.

- American?
- No, Arab.

His real name is actually Hassan Al-Hazar.

- [General Carmichael] So?

- Well, the organization claims

not to have any ties with him anymore

and that he dropped
out of sight years ago.

- So what do we got?

Some crazy camel driver?

Shit!

- No, he's actually a
former petroleum engineer,

believe it or not.

MIT class of '77.

- I want an open line
to them at all times.

You understand?

- Yes, sir.

- And nobody talks to this
character fuck but me.

- Yes, sir.

- General, our ground support's
aware of all the landmines

and access points here, here and here.

- Yeah, all right.

We have to initiate every
delay mechanism we can find

from the surface.

You know, if we gassed these guys,

they'd be dead in seconds.

- It won't work.

The defense center is
a self-contained unit.

- And even if it weren't,

the sensors would keep
up the gas in a second.

And you can believe that he's
prepared for this contingency.

- Yeah, well, we got no choice then.

Go launch a full air strike.

- General, the way that thing is designed,

hell, we don't even
know if that will work.

- I have a suggestion.

- Well, what is it?

- The courier, Corrigan,
is still down there.

- [Colonel Briggs] That
is if he's still alive.

- Of course he's alive.

The son of a bitch is in on it with them.

- Well then why is he killing them?

- It's a setup.

He fooled us.

- It is bothering me a bit
that he's not still answering

his HAM radio.

- That complex goes 100 feet underground.

He could be out of reach.

Hell, he could be anywhere
down there for all we know.

- Or he could have his finger
on the goddamn launch button,

for all we know.

- There might be a way
that we can reach him.

Here.

- The hard UHF.

- Exactly.

For communicating after a real air strike.

We could use it as a boost.

Emergency broadcast.

This is an emergency, isn't it?

(suspenseful music)

- Fuck, he could be anywhere by now.

- [Tori] All right, everybody split up.

You two.

- [Major Marin] Corrigan, do you copy?

- I'm here!

- Are you safe?

- Where is he?
- For the moment.

- Where are you?

- I don't know, I'm,

I'm next to a storage room.

- Corrigan?
- Yes, he's inside!

- Okay, we have to get him
to the electronics bay,

and once he's inside,
we can talk him through

some basic countermeasures,

and we can buy him some time.

- Our ground forces just
penetrated the compound.

Those rat bastards will find
out who they're dealing with.

- Come on guys, let's go!

Hustle it up!

Hurry, let's go!

(dramatic music)

(electronic beeping)

- Come on, let's go!

Quick, inside!

(electronic beeping)

(keyboard clacking)

(door whirring)

(timer beeping)

- Fall back!

(explosion booming)

(flame roaring)

- Shit!

- Damn it, damn it!

- Red leader!

Red leader, come in, red leader!

Red leader, come in, damn it!

(somber music)

- Sounds like it's onto plan B.

(electronic beeping)

- No, we have them.

(suspenseful music)

(Nick yelling)

(both yelling and groaning)

(guns firing)

(chopper blades whirring)

- Son a bitch, they want to play hardball?

I'm gonna turn that place
into a fuckin' crater!

Negotiations are over with those scumbags!

(dramatic music)

- Re-target.

- [Sabian] Re-targeting.

Goodbye, Moscow.

- Hello, New York.

(electronic beeping)

(chopper blades whirring)

- [Nick] This is Corrigan,
I'm in the electronics bay!

- Briggs!

Okay, now listen very
carefully, we have no time.

(electronic beeping)

- It's done.

We're clear.

Now we can negotiate.

- There's no reason now.

(dramatic music)

- I know what you're thinking.

But it looks like you're
playing for keeps.

And I don't fucking like that.

- Sabian, calm down.

It's not what I meant at
all, don't be ridiculous.

- You can play games with the broad,

but don't play that shit with me, Fawkes!

- I was merely stating that
they have no choice now.

We have no reason to negotiate.

Goddamn it, let go of me!

You've become unglued!

- I'm becoming unglued?

We have a deal.

We get the money and we
get the fuck out of here.

You understand?

You understand?

(dramatic music)

- Let's remember our objective.

(switchblade clicking)

Praise be to God, sustainer of worlds...

(dramatic music)

(electronic beeping)

(machinery whirring)

(rocket engine hissing)

- We have a verified launch!

T minus 60, 59...

- Let it be known, to all
the western criminals,

that they are responsible for
what's happened here today!

(timer beeping)

(rocket engine hissing)

- 37,

36,

35,

34,

33...

- Glory is not achieved by your swords.

Glory is achieved by strength.

Strength of faith.

With hopes of martyrdom.

Praise be to God.

(machinery whirring)

- 23,

22,

21,

20,

19,

18,

17,

16,

15,

14,

13,

12,

11,

10,

nine, eight, seven, six, five...

(electronic beeping)

- What the hell's going on?

- A system backup has just been initiated.

They just took their own computer offline.

- Time to backup?

(dramatic music)

Time to backup?

What the hell is happening?

- It's called survival of the fittest.

Look into it.

(Joseph yelling)

- You just save our asses,
Corrigan, and right on time.

- [Nick] Just doing my job.

What now?

- Well, the backup computer
is now storing information.

You just bought us a few minutes.

- And that's all we're gonna need.

I'm gonna launch a full-scale
air strike immediately.

- You can't be serious?

- This is our last option, Marin.

You forgot what almost happened today?

- Look, depending on the
speed of the computer,

that strike may come too late.

If Corrigan gets into launch control,

then he can abort the missile--

- I want all communications
terminated now, at once!

This is Carmichael.

Implement the air strike.

- You're gonna let him die down there.

- This is a global emergency.

You question a direct order
one more time, little lady,

and I'll have you court-martialed.

Is that understood?

(soldiers shouting)

(sighing)

- Corrigan, listen to me.

Carmichael's gonna launch an air strike.

- What?

- Look, you have got to
get into launch control

and abort the launch
manually, or it's all over.

- Great, any other good news?

- Yeah, you've got 10 minutes, maybe less.

Good luck, Sergeant.

(dramatic music)
- Great.

Yah!

(Ali groaning)

(Ali laughing)

- Not twice, sissy boy!

(Nick groaning)

(suspenseful music)

(Joseph shouting)

(guns firing)

(gun clicking)

(suspenseful music)

(gun firing)

- Hey, little man!

Just you and me now!

(gun firing)

(Nick yelling)

(both yelling and groaning)

(terrorist groaning)

(bones cracking)

(suspenseful music)

(gun firing)

(electronic whirring)

(tense music)

(gun firing)

(tense music)

(gun firing)

(tense music)

(electronic whirring)

(Nick breathing heavily)

- Marin, are you out there?

Marin?

Anybody?

- We can't save him.

- For God's sake, let me talk to him!

- It's too late!

- It's not too late if we can
get him into launch control!

- Marin, where the hell are you?

- Impossible, they're dug
in, and they won't negotiate.

The whole thing was a goddamn smokescreen.

- Marin?

Anybody?

- Let me handle it.

Corrigan, this is General Carmichael.

Your orders are to stand
by until further notice.

Do you understand?

- Yes, sir.

(dramatic music)

See you on the surface, gramps.

(suspenseful music)

(electronic beeping)

- Backup completed.

Launch command resumed.

- What now?

- Air strike in five minutes.

(jet engines roaring)

(dramatic music)

- It is time.

(suspenseful music)

(guns firing)
(Joseph screaming)

(jet engines roaring)

(screaming)
(guns firing)

(Nick groaning)

- Corrigan...

So...

We meet again.

You are...

Were a worthy opponent.

(gun clicking)

(chuckling)

Did you really think
that you could sabotage

the will of Allah?
(Nick groaning)

I am the will of Allah!

The fist of Mohammed!

And the world shall witness my holocaust!

(dramatic music)

For my country's two million martyrs

and the children of Islam...

(timer beeping)

- I'm in!

Damn it, answer me!

Marin!

- Corrigan, where are you?

- Launch control.

- Corrigan, listen to me, we're
only gonna get one chance.

Okay...

There's a console to the right of the door

with an LED series of 10 digits.

A blue LED, do you see it?

- Where?

What are you talking about?

- To the right of the door as you came in!

Damn it, do you see it?

- Come on, Corrigan.

(jet engines roaring)
- We have a target visual.

90 seconds.

- 29,

28,

27,

26...

(machinery whirring)

- Got it, what now?

- Okay, activate the launch abort switch.

Flip the safety cover.

- Okay, next?

- [Major Marin] Okay.

I'm only gonna be able
to read this to you once.

- Copy that.

(timer beeping)

- Enter abort code 310399--
(electronic beeping)

9151.
(electronic beeping)

(alarm ringing)

(gun firing)
(electricity buzzing)

(rocket engines powering down)

- [Pilot] Starting our attack run.

- Launch sequence aborted!

- Call off the goddamn air strike!

Call off the goddamn air strike!

- This is General Carmichael.

Cancel the air strike at once.

- [Pilot] Copy.

Aborting air strike.

(triumphant music)
(soldiers cheering)

(jet engines roaring)

(chuckling softly)

(chopper blades whirring)

- Hold on a minute.

Sergeant?

Colonel Briggs.

This country's very indebted to you.

I am damn glad you're on our side.

- Where's Marin?

- Right here.

- You did good...

Major.

(Major Marin chuckling)

- Yeah, well so did you, Sergeant.

- Sergeant?

Sergeant Corrigan?

A pleasure.

And I will do everything I can

to see that you get a medal for this.

- Thanks, but I never wear them.

- Oh, well, if there's anything,

anything that you need,
you just pick up the phone

and call Gene Carmichael.

- Carmichael?

Your name sounds real familiar.

Oh yeah, now I remember, Carmichael.

Pleasure Zone Novelties?

The sex doll?

Delivered a couple days ago.

(Marin clearing throat)

- Get him outta here.

- I'll tell you one thing, Corrigan.

Your timing is perfect.

Good luck.

(triumphant music)

(dramatic music)