All language subtitles for The.Lair.2022.1080p.WEBRip.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]-English

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 fuckups.

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.

Flashbang!

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 biohazard signs.

Sinclair?

Hook...

Shit.

Follow the biohazard 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.