Original subtitles

- Do you, Rosa Alvarez,

take Cooper Roback to be your lawfully wedded husband?

- I do.

- And do you, Cooper Roback,

take Rosa Alvarez to be your lawfully wedded wife?

- I do.

- By the power vested in me

by the great state of Montana,

I now pronounce you, by proxy,

to be man and wife.

[rustling]

Hey, what are you waiting on?

You may kiss the bride.

Come on, now, kiss your beloved.

Smooch her.

And thank you for your service.

I can't tell you what it means to all of us back here in--

- Yeah, bye-bye.

Now that we're married,

we have a mountain of paperwork,

an interview at Bagram,

and who knows what else to do before I get my green card.

- Okay, just hold on.

Let's just take a breath and let the weight

of this momentous occasion sink in, okay?

[rock music]

You realize once we're divorced,

I'm always gonna have to refer to you as my ex-wife.

- And I'm always gonna have to refer to you as my ex-husband.

♪ ♪

- Damn it.

I didn't even get you to sign a prenup.

When we get divorced,

you can take me for all I'm worth.

- How much are you worth?

- Nothing. You?

- Less than nothing.

- [laughs] What do you think?

- Spent artillery.

Exactly what every couple wants to celebrate their marriage.

♪ ♪

- [clears throat]

Your carriage, Mr. and Mrs. Roback.

- Never call me that again.

- Come on, we got to do it.

- This is dumb.

- It's for the immigration board.

[camera snapping]

♪ ♪

[engine turning over]

♪ ♪

[camera snapping]

Come here.

Come on. [grunts]

[camera snapping]

- Are we done?

- One more for all the relatives back home.

- [chuckles] - You're enjoying this?

- Yeah, why not?

It's fun. Admit it.

[chuckles]

- So what's next for the happy couple?

[faint indistinct chatter]

[missile whistling] [explosion]

- Gonna roll you over, Soldier.

- One, two, three.

- [grunts]

- [coughing and moaning]

[explosion, indistinct yelling]

[dramatic music]

- All right, back! Get back!

- Where are you from? - Louisville, sir.

[screams] Christ, that hurts.

- I'm sure it does, but don't worry.

We're gonna get you out of here.

- How bad is it? [panting]

- You're gonna be fine.

- I can't feel my legs.

- It's just the adrenaline. Lie back.

- [groans] Where are my fucking legs?

- Sit back. - Don't worry.

We're gonna take care of you.

- [panting]

- Three, two, one.

[all grunting]

♪ ♪

[explosion, glass shatters]

[gunfire, indistinct yelling]

- [groaning]

- Move it! Move it!

♪ ♪

- I want my fucking legs back.

- Just hang in there, buddy.

- I don't want to fucking hang in there.

- It's gonna be okay.

- It's not gonna be okay.

I want to fucking die.

- No, you don't.

- [panting]

[groaning and screaming]

My side pocket. There's a letter.

When I die, mail it.

- Buddy, you're gonna make it.

- It's for my wife.

[somber music]

♪ ♪

Please. Do it.

[dramatic music]

- Okay, I got it. I got it, okay?

I got it.

- Never get used to this part of the job.

- If you did,

you wouldn't be any good at it.

Let's get this guy to a doctor.

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

- What have we got here?

- Bilateral above-the-knee amputations.

Tourniquets applied.

- Let's get our friend here prepped for surgery.

- Si,Captain. - I want an American doctor.

- Ah, well, we're all out of American doctors at the moment.

But I'd like to recommend a fine chap from North London.

Me. - Don't look English.

- I'll take that as a compliment.

All right, let's get him monitored,

draw labs, and for God's sake,

get him out of these bloody clothes.

- Subito. - Wait.

- Look, my job was just to get you here, Louie, okay?

You're with Dr. Hazara now. He's the best surgeon--

- The letter-- mail it to my wife?

Promise me. - I don't have to promise you,

'cause you're gonna make it, okay?

[solemn music]

♪ ♪

Promise.

♪ ♪

[daunting music]

♪ ♪

- Approaching.

- Halt! State your business!

- We are Afghan National Army.

- Do you believe them?

- ANA have uniforms.

- Do you have identification?

- Do you see identification?

- No ID. - No shit.

- Why are you naked?

- Taliban.

They take our uniforms and our guns.

- [panting] Okay, what do we do?

We can't just leave them out there like that.

- They could have bombs implanted inside of them.

- Let's not start that shit again.

- You want to let them on?

You got to search them.

That means anyplace they could be hiding something.

- Aw, man.

- Sucks being Petrocelli.

Go, take it.

- [sighs] Okay.

[soft music]

♪ ♪

- Sweet.

[singer vocalizing]

♪ ♪

Our own bathroom?

Should've made an honest woman out of you months ago.

- Okay. - [grunts]

- Ground rules. - Yeah?

- Clean up after yourself.

And we're not sleeping in one bed.

- Relax. It's the army.

[sighs]

Oh, man.

I was thinking about having some of the guys

from the office over a little later for poker.

You mind fixing us some refreshments and snacks?

- No time for naps.

The sooner we fill these out,

the sooner we get to Bagram to finalize this

and the less time we have to worry

about getting court-martialed.

- Look,

I'm ready, willing, and able to spend hours filling out

this endless stack of coma-inducing government forms.

But after tonight's dustoff,

I need to decompress, okay?

- One more ground rule.

- [sighs] Okay.

- No jerking off.

- That's gonna be tough.

What are you gonna do if you have to rub one out?

- None of your business.

But I can promise you that whatever it is,

you will not hear a thing.

- Catholic girls are all the same.

♪ ♪

[singer vocalizing]

♪ ♪

[mischievous music]

- Thanks.

♪ ♪

- Heard about you and Alvarez.

- Thanks, man.

We're registered at the PX.

- Got to admit, I always thought

you and Davis would be the ones who'd end up getting married.

- [clicks tongue] Oh, I get it.

'Cause we're both guys, right?

- How about you give back what you took from us?

- Look, told you.

Fight the Warlord's bodyguard, I'll give you what you want.

- How about you give me what I want, then I fight?

- I like my way better.

- You're messing with things

way above your pay grade, Roback.

- Look, follow my logic.

The base wants good fights,

and good fights need fighters who are hungry.

If I give you what you want, you're satisfied.

And if I don't, you're hungry.

You need me to say it again slower?

[chuckles]

- You don't have it, do you?

- [slurps]

Let's just put it this way.

I do. - You're lying.

- I never lie on Tuesdays.

- You tell me where the Blue FOB is,

I fight your guy.

♪ ♪

- Blue FOB?

♪ ♪

[slurping]

[grunts softly]

- Can I help you?

- [sighs] I'm just looking.

- For what?

[phone ringing]

- Any of these FOBs ever get referred to as the Blue FOB?

- Mm, not to my knowledge.

- Hmm.

What do you see in Sasquatch?

- The fact he doesn't drop his ass on my desk

while I'm trying to work is a start.

- That's not enough to sustain a relationship.

But I'm sure it'll suffice until your ETS is up

and you ditch his ass for LA.

- He's coming with me.

He already has a security job lined up.

- In the mall or the airport?

- Personal security. Pays six figures.

- Well, when did this happen?

- Why do you care?

- I just didn't think you were that serious about him.

- You thought wrong.

- No, this doesn't work for me.

I was planning a long and intricate campaign

to get you back,

which includes wearing you down

with constant badgering until you realized

that my intentions were true and that we belong together.

- Let me save you some time.

- Does this have anything to do with Alvarez?

- You are married to her.

- No, I mean the fact that you two are now besties.

- What about it?

- You're trying to protect her.

- She's not the reason I'm with Sasquatch.

- Then what is?

- Apparently you need to hear this,

so I'm gonna say it.

I'm in love with him. - I don't believe you.

- You obviously know more about what I'm feeling

than I do, Dr. Roback.

But let's pick this up in our next session.

Right now, you need to get the hell out of here

before Colonel Austin gets back from lunch.

[stirring music]

♪ ♪

- [speaking Pashto]

"Macaroni and cheese."

- Glad to see your appetite has returned.

- Mm-hmm.

- Just saw your latest test results.

Your numbers are right where they need to be.

- So we can leave?

- You can leave.

- Thank you.

We have much work to do in our village.

- We have a school.

- Well, I thought it's been closed

since your parents were killed.

- We plan to reopen it.

- But the people who killed your parents

are still out there,

and I'm guessing they haven't had a change of heart

on the subject of educating women.

- Every member of our village that we educate

will pass that knowledge to their family

and their family after that.

That is our legacy.

- I can see you're both determined

to put yourselves in harm's way,

so all I can offer you is a very useless...

good luck.

- Thank you again for saving my life.

- Yeah, well...

hope it was worth it.

♪ ♪

- What the hell, Roback?

- What? I didn't do anything.

- I know.

We're supposed to be supply checking the Black Hawk.

- I'm sorry. I forgot.

- Guess you forgot to clean up too.

- I'm getting to it.

- What's wrong?

- Durkin's in love with Sasquatch.

- How do you know?

- She told me.

- You really dig her.

- I must.

My head is way fucked up right now.

- Poor baby.

- I mean, you guys talk, right?

Have I got any shot at turning this around?

- No. - You want to take a moment?

Really think about it before you answer me?

- She's sort of done with you.

- Ouch.

- You want the truth, don't you?

- Not really.

- I would.

- Yeah, but you're made of much sterner stuff than I am.

- Okay.

Watching you sit around heartbroken and lovesick

is not a lot of fun.

You're not good at it.

Some people are, but you're not.

So do me a favor.

Get over her

and pick up your gross, disgusting clothes.

You still haven't filled out the forms?

- Look, I--

- We cannot schedule Bagram

until we send them in.

- I will, okay? I promise.

- Sasquatch would have filled them out by now.

- That's a low blow.

- Then fill them the fuck out.

[rock music]

♪ ♪

- [sighs]

♪ ♪

- Tell the Warlord

I need to take his bodyguard back to the base

to show my promoter he's for real.

[both speaking Pashto]

- He says no fight.

- What? We have a deal.

- [speaking Pashto]

- He says the game is boring. Too easy.

- Lucky for him, I'm a problem solver.

Let me take the handheld back to the base.

I'll load it up with all the new games it could handle,

bring it back to him.

This is it.

- [speaking Pashto]

- Tell him he can make himself comfortable.

He can use all the equipment.

- [speaking Pashto]

- It's gonna take a while to download these games.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

[chuckles]

♪ ♪

- [grunting]

- Get it, man.

Show everybody what you got.

- [speaking Pashto]

- Y'all see this?

Ha!

That's it.

Yo, SecCorp,

go tell Sasquatch

this man is gonna whup his ass.

♪ ♪

- [speaking indistinctly]

- At ease.

Apparently our good friends at SecCorp ran a full convoy

of equipment through a friendly LN's poppy field last night,

destroying half his crop.

The locals can't tell the difference

between a SecCorp contractor and U.S. Army.

We'll soon be able to drop the word "friendly"

when referring to any and all LNs.

- Sir.

What the hell are those contractors doing here anyway?

- That's above my pay grade.

And despite clear evidence that SecCorp

is undermining our mission

to win the hearts and minds of the local population,

my requests to have them removed from base

have again been denied.

Okay. Give me what you got.

Captain.

- Sir, regarding our naked visitors,

identities have been confirmed.

They all checked out as ANA.

MPs are investigating,

but no signs of their uniforms or weapons as of yet.

- Copy.

Contact local ANA squadrons

and order an immediate stand-down.

I want all friendlies off the street

while our guys are out searching.

And until we can account for the stolen property,

alert Gate Patrol that any ANA uniform should be challenged.

- Roger that, sir.

- Moving on. Anybody else?

Then if you're all out of bad news,

it's time I call home, get some from my wife.

Carry on.

- Sir, sorry I'm late.

I was waiting on a casualty report.

- Looks like I'm not gonna call my wife after all.

Activate River City.

Full communications shutdown

until the fallen soldier's family can be notified.

- Yes, sir.

- My wife didn't really want to hear from me anyway.

[eerie music]

♪ ♪

- [speaking Spanish]

Mama...

[continues speaking Spanish]

Mama.

[soldiers groaning]

Mama! Ma.

- What?

River City. Comms are down.

- [mutters angrily]

- Colonel Austin?

- Whatever it is,

I'm sure it can wait till after I've eaten lunch.

- Yes, sir.

- I need a favor.

- A favor?

- You have access

to the colonel's satellite phone, right?

- I wouldn't call it "access."

- The comms are down, and I need to call my family.

- Not a chance.

- I have to speak to them.

My little brother has been missing.

He might be in danger.

- [sighs]

I could get so busted.

- It would be a meaningful sacrifice that would cement

this wonderful new friendship of ours.

- We're not quite at wonderful just yet.

- Please, I beg you.

- Colonel eats fast, so make it quick.

- I will not forget this.

- Trust me, I won't let you.

[touch-tones beeping]

[soldiers clapping and yelling]

[both grunting]

- Ooh.

[dramatic music]

- What's he doing in there?

- Publicity, baby.

Dude, soon as word spreads

that Sasquatch is fighting this guy,

it's gonna be like Godzilla versus Kong.

And we are gonna clean up.

- [grunting]

- [chuckles] - Okay.

- What's up with the Wi-Fi?

- River City.

Comms on the whole base are shut down.

- No!

Shit.

- Is everything all right?

- It's fine.

Just a problem with the Internet.

This happens every time a soldier dies.

We shut down all communication.

It'll be back up soon as his family's been notified.

- [speaking Pashto]

- He said, "No game, no fight."

- Thanks, Khalil. I got it.

- Good.

- Why are we on River City?

Who didn't make it back?

- That kid you brought in yesterday.

That double amputee.

- Louisville?

[panting]

Shit.

- What-- what the fuck, Roback?

- You move my stuff?

- You mean did I clean up? Yes.

- What did you do with the letter?

- I didn't touch any letter.

- The letter for Louisville's wife.

He didn't make it, and I left it right here.

Did you move my clothes?

- They were soaked in blood. I took them to the laundry.

- You want to help me out? Don't touch my stuff.

- They were soaked in blood! - My pants, my blood.

Fuck.

Why did I take the letter?

I know better than to take the letter.

You got to help me look for it.

- I just found out that my 13-year-old brother

tried to cross the border all by himself

to see his old friends

and he's now in a U.S. detention center.

- Jesus, I'm so sorry.

Is he okay?

- We don't know.

There is little information.

Oh, my God. - What?

- You still haven't filled these out?

Time to get your shit together, bro.

If Louisville's wife does not get closure,

his ghost is gonna haunt your ass forever.

And so will I!

[somber music]

[buzzer blares]

- All clear.

♪ ♪

- Goat boy.

- You know, you were right about Boz.

He was possessed by spirits.

- That is not what I thought.

It is what its owner thought.

And he is an idiot.

- [chuckles] No.

No, he was right.

It's a special goat.

He saved my life.

- How nice for you.

- Hey, if you ever see it again,

could you feed it and be nice to it?

That'd mean a lot to me.

- For you, yes.

- Thanks.

- [chuckles]

♪ ♪

[knock at door]

- You got a sec? - No.

- It's important.

- [sighs]

- Okay.

[clears throat]

So...

a couple of days ago,

we brought in this kid who lost both his legs.

And...

While I was consoling him,

we bonded.

I like to do that.

It's not part of my job description,

but I believe it should be.

Anyway, the kid died,

but he's got this wife back home that he loves.

And he wrote her this letter.

And he made me promise that if he didn't make it,

I'd be sure to get it to her.

But there's just one problem. There's no address.

- Alvarez told me you lost the letter.

- Fuck. Okay.

I'm not cool with how close you two are becoming.

Yeah, I lost the kid's letter.

But I fixed it. I wrote a new letter.

The wife won't know the difference.

- Have you lost your mind?

I'm not sending a fake letter to a widow.

- Why not?

- She's his wife.

She's gonna see through that shit in a second.

- He's a 19-year-old kid from horse country.

How hard could it be?

A "sweetheart" here,

a "best thing that ever happened to me" there.

And the widow gets some beautiful memories

and some closure.

You don't want that for her?

Just read it.

If it doesn't melt your heart, then I won't send it.

- To my dearest widow's name here...

- What? I don't have her name.

I was hoping you could help me with that too.

- If you are reading this,

then the calamity of our worst fears has come to pass.

I have lost my light on the field of battle.

I pray that your grief--

- Did he die in the Civil War?

She doesn't need a letter.

Once she gets over the shock,

she's gonna be flooded with memories

of all the good times they had.

And those are gonna be her forever memories,

not this cornpone bullshit.

[sighs]

You've got a big heart.

- I do?

- You do. - Mm-hmm.

- But I'm still not gonna let you fuck me ever again.

I checked, by the way.

There isn't a Blue Forward Operating Base.

- Shit.

Thanks.

[indistinct chatter]

[music playing softly over speakers]

♪ ♪

- [whistles]

- What's up?

- Come with me.

Leave that.

- ♪ It's okay, relax ♪

♪ You're just in love ♪

♪ ♪

♪ It's okay, relax ♪

♪ You're just in love ♪

- Consider this my apology.

- For what?

- For not trusting you, mate.

I've been

shooting my mouth off all over camp

about how you and Roback had shite up to your eyebrows

regarding this fight.

Little did I know,

you'd found us the Afghan Ali.

- You mean the bodyguard?

- Fucking oath, I mean the bodyguard.

[laughs]

That was a genius move, you bringing

that Taliban Tyson around for a sneak peek.

He's like a Marvel villain, yeah?

Boys in the kitchen, they can't stop talking about it.

They're phoning their mums for extra bet money.

You lit a fuse, Davers.

[laughs]

You lit a fuse.

- Okay, look.

That's, um... [laughs]

We might need to postpone.

- No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no.

You delay, and people have second thoughts.

This fight is a go, baby doll.

- There are a lot of moving parts here,

and I'm really not--

- Don't worry about that, partner.

I'm getting more action than I can probably handle, you know?

Even Colonel Austin, he laid down a C-note.

The big money's riding on your boy.

You really think he can take Sasquatch?

- Right now, it's not even a contest.

- Tasty, mate.

Very tasty.

We are gonna make out like bandits.

Make sure Ali's keeping fit, yeah?

Sleeping well, he's eating right.

If he needs a proper training diet,

I will fix up the halal

so he's a lean, mean Afghan machine.

- Hip, hip, halal.

- You lose a patient too?

- Not that I'm aware of.

- Well, then only one of us at a time

is allowed to be in a somber funk.

- You're too empathetic to be a surgeon.

- As you well know,

it is both a gift and a curse.

- Yes.

And I'm starting to worry it's contagious.

- Good news, Major. - What's that?

- River City is no more.

Comms are back up.

You can call family.

- Oh, it was a nightmare.

But at least the kids got their vaccinations.

- Mm.

- [sighs]

I am so ready to have you home.

- I'm ready to be home. [chuckles]

- When you're back, we need to talk

about this hippie school.

I mean, who doesn't enforce vaccinations?

If you want your kid to get polio, fine.

But don't put my kids at risk.

- Hope I'm not interrupting, sir.

- You are.

But an interruption was just what I was hoping for.

Please, sit.

- [inhales sharply] Sir,

I've been thinking about your frustration with SecCorp

interfering with our work with the locals.

And I think I might have a way to help.

- If it involves poisoning SecCorp's steroid supply,

I'm in.

- Afraid not, sir.

The local population has been struggling

with influenza, typhoid.

For minimal cost,

we could set up a free clinic.

- These villages aren't secure, Major.

And I don't have the manpower

to establish a permanent location.

- Not permanent, sir. Mobile.

A caravan with minimal medical staff.

We roll into town on non-predetermined dates

to avoid attacks and provide services

to the local population and hopefully their children.

- Close contact. - Builds trust.

Maybe even helps them learn the difference

between our troops and SecCorp.

- How long have you been deployed, Major?

- This is my second tour. 17 months total, sir.

- That means your PCS is up in a month.

You can't build any trust with these people in a month.

They need consistency.

They need a face,

something to help them see past the uniform.

That means at least six months.

- Yes, sir.

- Sonia, if you start this,

you have to finish it.

That face has to be yours.

[phone ringing]

You ready to extend your deployment that long?

- Would you think less of me if I said yes?

- No, Major, I would not.

And since we're being candid with one another,

I'll tell you you're not the only one who feels this way.

I've been deployed so many times,

I'm not sure I'd remember

how to get from the airport to my house.

And the sad truth is,

the distance I've put between myself and my family

has been, for the most part, deliberate.

- It's, uh...

it's gotten so bad that

halfway through a conversation with my family,

I fantasize that I dialed the wrong number

and I got somebody else's family by mistake.

[chuckles]

The urge to just hang up is...

overwhelming.

- Request approved.

Keep me updated.

- Thank you, sir.

I'll get started right away.

- Major.

I'll keep your little secret if you can keep mine.

- Private Mulligan.

- Here, sir.

- Corporal Rondiak.

Corporal Wesley Rondiak.

- Corporal Rondiak is no longer with us, sir.

- Louisville's ghost is coming to get me, man.

- Eat lots of garlic. I hear it helps.

- I think that's vampires. - Can't hurt.

[bugle playing taps]

- I really fucked this one up.

- It happens.

- Yeah.

How's it going with our fight?

- People are getting excited. - That's good.

- Where are we with Sasquatch?

- Nowhere.

He wants the Blue FOB.

- What's the Blue FOB? - No clue.

- Then no fight.

- It's looking that way.

- Time for gun to meet mouth.

Only way I'm gonna get my mom any money

is if I'm dead so she could collect the life insurance.

- They don't pay out on suicides.

- They're playing my song, amigo.

♪ ♪

[indistinct chatter]

- Can you give us a second, Crash?

- Uh-oh.

Looks like I'm in Dutch with the wife.

- Yeah.

- This is smart.

Really sells the marriage

if we pick public places to be mad at each other.

Maybe next week, I'll make a big scene in the DFAC,

accusing you of not letting me hang with my buddies.

- I found your stupid letter.

- That's great. Where was it?

- If you had taken one second to fill these out,

you would have found it yourself.

- Promise I will fill out all these forms

as soon as I mail this.

[giggles]

Oh, shit.

Blood must have eaten right through the paper.

I still got the letter.

So I'll get the address from Durkin

and just put it in a new envelope.

- Simple. - Yeah.

- What?

- Nothing, I just...

never read one of these before.

- Me neither.

- Dear Jenny, I'm dead.

But don't feel bad,

because I've been dead since the night I met you,

you filthy, no-good piece of trash.

I only married you because you were pregnant,

which you, of course, were not.

You were just fat,

you three-Slurpee-drinking, dog-jack-offing royal slut.

I hope my life insurance money lets you throw a big party.

I also hope you'll get so drunk

that you choke on your own puke.

See you in hell, bitch.

Worst wishes, Wes.

- So I guess I'll mail this.

- What? No.

Throw it in the trash.

- But what about closure? - Screw closure.

The royal slut does not need closure.

- [laughs] I'm talking about my closure.

You're the one who said

his ghost was gonna come back and haunt me.

- Come on.

You're not afraid of a ghost, are you?

- I promised him.

- Okay, you're right.

Send it. - Yeah.

- Let Louisville get the last word.

- Soaked in blood. Should I rewrite it?

- No.

If the royal slut is as bad as he says she is,

she'll be happy to see his blood all over the letter

and get her own closure.

- It's a win-win. - Mm-hmm.

- Guess if we never get divorced,

it'll keep us from making the same stupid mistakes

everybody else keeps making.

- What's that?

- Marrying for love.

[percussive music]

♪ ♪

- All right, this area will serve as our medi-camp.

Let's get the Red Cross up

and secure posts on both ends of this road.

[rooster squawks]

[indistinct chatter]

I'd like a separate exam room set up for the women.

Let's keep everyone feeling as comfortable as possible.

♪ ♪

- What is all this?

- The army is establishing a free medical clinic.

Open to everyone, especially children.

- It will be quite welcome.

- Hoping we can make a difference.

[chuckles]

We'll be here once a month.

Be nice if we had somebody we could trust

to alert the locals.

- I know of someone like that.

- Your brother Qasem.

- No, me.

I would be happy to help.

- Well, thanks.

I should get to it.

- Good luck with this.

[dramatic music]

♪ ♪

- Let me just check those plates.

- Lightning, lightning, lightning!

[gunfire]

[tense music]

♪ ♪

- [panting]

♪ ♪

[gunshot]

♪ ♪

- Gate to Base.

Looks like we just found those stolen uniforms.

Over.

♪ ♪

- [wheezing]