All language subtitles for Sniper - 2014 - 5 - Legacy.en

Hey.

Simpson.

I didn't think you'd come.

We chewed the same sand.

Yeah, I'm still pickin'
it outta my teeth.

Shit, man.

Long time.

How ya doin', Smitty?

I haven't heard that nickname
since Mission Sentinel.

I'm doin' good.

The German doctors
down in Landstuhl,

they stitched me back
together pretty well.

When'd you get outta
that sandbox?

Couple of months back.

Doin' okay?

They say I am.

Hey, they broke me,
they gotta fix me.

Welcome to the world.

Listen, Smitty, I know this is not a good
time to be lookin' for a job. But if...

I said I'm okay.

I got a line on a job
over at Sembach Annex,

training Army Snipers.

You know what they say,
"Those who can't, teach."

Well, the Army owes you that.

It's my daughter Alex at school.

I didn't know you had a kid.

I got two, Alex and Lucy.

Don't see much of 'em.
Not anymore.

Sorry.

Yeah.

You guys threw me under
the bus on Sentinel.

We got sent on a bad
mission and people died.

They hung that
friendly-fire shit on me.

Your gun did it.

I was ordered to fire.

And I was ordered by the
Colonel to give those orders.

Call it awash.

What are we doin' here, Smitty?

You got somethin'
to say, say it.

Do you think that
God will forgive us

for all the shit
that we've done?

We did things right,
most of the time.

We were drinkin' from
the devil's cup.

That's just war.

So that's it?

That's it.

Just like that.

So fuck you and fuck the
Colonel, I did my job.

And I did mine.

Hey, did I tell ya?

Getting my citizenship
next month.

- Finally came through, huh?
- Mmm-hmm.

It pays to be a Marine.

God, I can't wait to
have that blue passport.

Well deserved.

So, Corporal, you got an
interesting nickname.

- Mango?
- Yeah, where'd it come from?

My first live op, we
were in East Timor.

Thirty days in the jungle,
short on food supply.

Sol made my team a
mango-snake salad.

What'd you season it with?

Sea salt.

Hmm.

Sounds good right about now.

- Movement, one o'clock.
- Range me.

Thirteen hundred.

On target.

- Hold scope.
- Wind?

It's comin' off the mountain
at our one o'clock,

quarter value, push two
clicks to the right.

Angle?

Descending 18 degrees,
no adjustment.

More Syrians coming into Turkey.
Who can blame 'em?

Your move, Reese.

White rook captures F five.

Fuck.

That's it, son. Check and mate.

NS-Two, NS-Two, this
is NS-One, over.

NS-One, this is NS-Two,
what's your traffic, over?

NS-Two, please advise
on your sit rep, over.

Livin' the dream, baby.

How's your focus?

Currently, I am focused
on cleaning my barrel.

I can see your silhouette.

Get back in your hide.

Can I shake first?

Oh, you got jokes?

Always.

Keeps me light, on the
edge, where I need to be.

You need to be on your scope.

I know you're a member of the Green
Jackets Team back in the UK,

but sniping isn't just
about shooting straight,

you also have to shoot first,

so get back on your rifle.

Tell knucklehead riding shotgun
to put the chess set away.

Aye-aye.

Got something. Could be our guy.
12 o'clock.

This party's startin'.

NS-Two, put your dick
away and lock it up.

Time to go to work.

Vehicle, belt-fed AK.
They're coming heavy.

Call it out.

Target on ground.
Head-wrap, sackcloth.

He's a real charmer.

Hey!

Do the math.

970 meters.

Wind, one-half value.

Angle, 13 degrees descending.
No adjustment.

On target.

Fire when ready.

Refugees are blocking my shot.

NS-Two, do you have a clean
shot to the Tango, over?

Give me a sec.

Go two up.

This is a senior Taliban.

If you have a clean shot,
send the mail now.

Roger that, over.

Put some lead on
this guy, Reese.

Do it now!

Hey! Hey!

- Miss.
- Ready for a gunfight?

- Thought you'd never ask.
- Go to guns.

Hit.

Give me a shot.

NS-Two, you have two hostile
technicals approaching your position.

Fuck me! We're
takin' heavy fire!

Man down! Man down!

Position to lead truck.

816 meters and closing,
25 miles an hour.

Two-mil lead.

Beckett, I need some help!

Large rock, 750 meters.

Two guys on foot.

Guy with the AK, on the
ground, 800 meters.

- Hostile threat down.
- Where's the target?

Heading south, fast.

Range me.

Range is long gone.

Call it in.

Let's pack it up.

Yeah.

Hog's Den, Hog's Den,
this is North Star One.

Hostile threat down. Ready
for evacuation, over.

Roger that, NS-One, move to
extraction point LZ-Cobra.

Hold your position.

What the hell happened, Gunny?

You'll read about it
in the report, sir.

Reese?

Yahoo, no discipline.

That's why you're here,
to train these yahoos.

Look around you.

This is a work in progress, not
even the fucking paint's dry.

We had him.

Should've been clean, done.

It was that bad?

Worse.

Reese got his spotter killed.

Well, let me buy you a drink.
We'll talk it through.

I want out, Major.

What are you saying?

You sent us into a country we
weren't even supposed to be in,

with a team that wasn't
qualified for the job.

We lost one today. We'll
get him next time.

No, I had five kills today and we
were only sent out for one target.

It's tough work.

Not really, that's
what bothers me.

It was easy, five
shots, five kills.

I was on the scope, correcting
for wind and velocity,

doing the trig work in
my head, on the fly.

Yeah, it's just math.

No, everything was easy.

Second nature?

Yeah.

That's the goal.

Congratulations,
you're a sniper.

It's what we do. Black on black.

It's ugly stuff.

You're not the first sniper
to question his destiny.

We all do.

You think I like to kill?

I'm done.

You're assigned to a
Multi-National Task Force

authorized to carry weapons
in a foreign country!

You can't just quit!

You're a natural, kid.

It's in your blood.

You're 10 minutes late.

Major, you still don't know when
you're talking to a superior?

It's along time since we've had
a come-to-Jesus face to face.

I'm not here.

The rest of us are in the shit and
you're living the life out here.

Way off the grid, out of the
grind, right where I need to be.

You must rate some serious juice
with the brass stateside.

Pete Steffen, you remember him?

Yeah. Reasonably good man.

Got shot in Berlin,
two days ago.

Shame.

It would be a shame if
it was just Steffen.

Hopkins and Carswell.

Dead?

Hopkins got popped nine
days ago in South Florida.

Carswell?

Medulla shot, two
days back in London.

Shots were from 1,500 meters
with a high-caliber bullet.

- How high?
- Fifty.

That's not a just a kill,
that's a statement.

It was a home-made bullet with
its own calculated spindrift.

Conditions?

Hopkins' shot required an
adjustment for extreme wind.

- From 1,500 meters?
- Mmm-hmm.

This guy's a serious
motherfucker.

Let's get the hell outta of here.
You hungry?

Best octopus in the world.

You brought me here because
you think I did it?

Why would you say that?

There are only a handful of
guys can make those shots,

and I'm one of them.

If I thought you did it,
we wouldn't be talking.

Fair enough.

We have three men
dead out of five

who were put together for a
particular mission in Afghanistan,

a mission you turned down.

Didn't see any upside in it.

Everyone involved got a high-paying
job with the corporation

when they got back home.

With all due respect, sir, the men
that get those high-paying jobs

end up about six feet lower
than I care to park my desk.

Who do you think did it?

Ideas or actionable intel?

What's your gut say?

Simpson. Got the raw talent.

He just got back from Afghanistan
a couple months ago.

Spent time in the psych
ward at Landstuhl.

He's been in the shit too long.

We think he's somewhere in Syria,
tracking one of our members.

Shope?

And we think your boy Beckett
might also be on his list.

Why would he want Brandon?

Because last night there
was a fourth killing.

Thomas Beckett?

He was taken out in Rome.

He was the best
shooter I ever knew.

Fucker could thread a needle.

So what are you
gonna do about it?

Find Simpson, shut him down.

There's an ax coming through
your door, Colonel.

And this island's not
so far off the grid.

That's why I've got you.

This is all the Intel we have.

Sir.

Hey.

They still calling
you Bullet-Face?

So I hear you're lookin'
for a transfer?

Word travels fast.

When were you gonna tell me?

- Sanaa, I...
- No, look... Fine, it's fine.

Just thought we were friends.

We are.

- Doesn't feel like it sometimes.
- It does to me.

It's so much easier
for you guys,

especially you with your legacy.

My legacy?

Wanna know why I
became a sniper?

Yeah.

Republic of the Congo.

A sniper took out
my entire squad,

missed killing me by
less than an inch.

I don't believe in misses.

The bullet either
wants you or doesn't.

Hmm.

Hey, Beckett!

Bullet-Face is sending me home.

You rat-fucked me.

I did you a favor, Reese.
Go home.

The Green Jackets will be happy
to have their shooter back.

We've got some business
to finish first.

You really wanna do this?

Oh, yeah.

Fucking Beckett!

So what was that all about?

Just a couple of guys who kill for
a living getting into a bar fight.

What are you doing
here, Brandon?

Chasin' a ghost.

Thomas Beckett?

Walkin' in the
shadow of a giant.

He's just a man, Brandon.

I'll tell you a story about
a girl and her father.

They lived in this small town
in the south of Lebanon.

He was the mayor.

He was working with the
police to try to stop

local farmers from
growing heroin poppy.

One day the girl came
home from school.

She found her father's severed
head on the front steps.

The police who had been hired to
protect him, assassinated him.

I'm sorry.

My mom picked up our lives
and moved us to Chicago.

Never looked back.

And you?

I joined the Corps.

Actually where I
realized I could shoot.

Which brings me here,

back in the Middle East,
shooting long-guns

with you at the command
of Major Bidwell.

I actually learned
a lot from him.

He taught me that no matter
what country you're in,

you don't really know
who the bad guys are.

So you find a shooter
who you trust

and join forces with him.

Gunny?

Get dressed, I need a minute.

Major?

I'm not good at small talking
over the facts of things,

so I'm just gonna
come out and say it.

A U.S. sniper went rogue and
killed several military officers.

One of those men
was your father.

My father?

I'm sorry, kid.

How?

Who?

That's need to know.

I know you never knew him and
maybe it doesn't matter to you,

but he was the best
shooter I ever knew.

He would've been proud of you.

Is that it?

No, I'm gonna take a small
team and tie this thing off.

I can't take you with me
because the Colonel says so.

Besides, you wouldn't
know how to keep

on the trigger without
making it personal.

This isn't personal for you?

Yes, it is.

But I know how to make it a job.

Our training teaches us not
to personalize killing.

I myself,

I think there's something
to be said for revenge.

So what are you saying?

What I'm saying is,

I hope you don't
sneak off the base

and take this thing
into your own hands.

Because if you do, you will
be on loan-out to yourself.

And if you get caught, I will throw
your ass under a fucking bus.

Yes, Major.

And, Gunny,

I know he wasn't
much of a father,

but he was a hell of a man.

How's it goin', Mango?

Hey, Twinkle Toes Cantara.

I'm spottin' for you on this mission.
I got your six.

Oh, cool, man.

We'll see ya, kid. Wheel's up!
Let's roll!

Sir?

- Where's Brandon?
- He's not making this trip.

May I ask why?

Nope. Load up!

This is Viper-One to Command Op,

we're 600 klicks from AFB
Incirlik and rolling.

ETA approximately five hours.

Copy that, Viper-One.
Be safe out there.

This is Tiger-Two
Seven to Tower.

We're ready and awaitin'
your command, over.

This is Tower.

You're cleared for take-off.

Confirm Team Viper's on
board, ready for incursion.

That's affirmative, the
team's locked and loaded.

We are approximately 80
minutes from DZ Alpha Bravo.

Roger that, Tiger-Two
Seven, be safe out there.

- Major Shope!
- Bidwell?

Yeah.

They call you
Bullet-Face, right?

I have heard that before, yes.

This is Sanaa Malik,
Eddie Cantara.

Sniper?

I prefer the word shooter.

Okay.

Now we know who we all are.

Sol heard somebody
wants me dead?

Well, tell 'em to take a number.

Everybody within a thousand
klicks of here wants me dead.

Someone in particular, linked to
what you were doing in Afghanistan

on April the 22nd, 2004.

Yes, Sentinel. I
remember that mission.

Afghanistan.

We were escorting a group of
Army Intel out of theater.

We were ambushed.

It was a cluster fuck. We lost
half the men to friendly fire.

Someone is killing every officer
who served on that mission.

You're the last one alive.

380 tons of heroin and
morphine is produced

in Afghanistan and
trafficked up into Europe.

The Heroin Highway starts
in the Helmand River Valley

and moves through Iran, Iraq and then
into Syria before entering Turkey

and making its way into Europe.

These drugs bankroll terrorism
and it's our job to stop it.

They move through
small villages,

sometimes forcing the local men
and women to work as slave labor.

These cartels are
protected by kill squads.

At 1800 today, the group
we've been hunting

will deliver the heroin to a
town on the outskirts of Bayda

in exchange for weapons.

My team's forward deployed.

They're getting in position now.

We will be there to say
hello and fuck them up.

In and out in 30 minutes.

This is an urban op, ladies.

I don't need to remind you
there's an 88% casualty rate.

Don't silhouette,
watch your angles

and stay out of
the fatal funnel.

The drugs and weapons will
be destroyed on site.

This is not a recovery mission.

We leave zero signature.

Questions?

Thank you.

Right.

While Major Shope and your I.N.L.
team are busy fucking them up,

my boys and girls will be on the
green-side providing long-range support.

For those of you
who skipped class,

that's short for
sniping in the weeds.

Thank you.

We'll also be filling the surrounding
areas with these little babies.

GSM surveillance devices,

real time HD audio and video
with an IR range of 60 feet.

I'll be monitoring all the video
feeds on the crisis zone.

If it moves with a gun,
we will watch it in HD.

Whoever shows up to kill
you is the bad guy.

We've invited him with a stream
of unsecured radio chatter

pinpointing the town and
your team's presence there.

So, if this guy shows
you've got my back?

We have.

You any good with those
long-guns, Major?

I'd rather take my long-guns,
than your short arms.

Well said.

Gear up.

Let's get it done.

YOUR PAPERS? IDENTIFICATION.

I'm just passing through.
I don't want any trouble.

PUT YOUR HANDS UP!

Come on, guys.
Let's not do this.

- Here it is.
- Good.

800 meters out from
the center of town.

Sir, if I may, why do they
call you Bullet-Face?

I've had 74 confirmed kills.

And 67 of those have
been face shots.

- Quite a statement.
- More of a trademark.

Sir, why did you leave
Brandon behind?

There's more at play here
than you need to know about.

But I do what's right in
the moment at the time.

- You always know what's right for us?
- Yeah, pretty much.

You think you could
ever be wrong?

Keeps me awake at night.

Okay, get ghillied-up,
play hide.

Lots of friendlies out
there, no tangos.

Roger that.

Viper-Two, Viper-Two,
this is Viper-One, over.

Viper-One, this is Viper-Two,
send your traffic, over.

Watch your target
indicators down there.

You've got shine, over.

Roger that, over.

Pantyhose. Sexy.

If you saw half the shit I did
with this, you would blush.

Fucking slut.

Nice hide, Mango.

We got movement,
two o'clock, over.

Stay frosty, Viper-Two.

Safeties off.

Any sign of Tango, over?

Negative, over.

Keep your eyes on the prize.

Find me Simpson. Viper-One, out.

Roger that.

Major, how's everything
going out there?

This shithead pushing
up daisies yet?

I'm in the middle of it now.

Gunnery Sergeant
Beckett with you?

He's confined to base.

Is he?

That's where I left him.

Well, he's gone. Hasn't
been seen since yesterday.

That's news to me.

I'm starting to get a bad
feeling about this, Major.

Finish it!

So no pressure then.
Just hurry up.

Exactly, Major.

No more Marines dying.

Roger that.

Okay, boys. Stay sharp now.

Viper-One, Viper-One, got a
second truck at my 10 o'clock.

Roger that, Viper-Two.

Team Alpha, Team Bravo,
get ready to bound.

Let's go.

Team Charlie, you are on me.

We're fire support.

Take that window.

You take that window.

Shit. We're made.

Shooter!

Take them! Take them now!

Which way? Which way?

Should we engage?

Protect Shope and look for Tango.
That's our mission.

Keep your head down
on that scope.

Advance, advance! Move in!
Cover me! Cover me!

Viper-Two, Viper-Two, we've
got enemy sniper fire.

ATB Tangos, 11 o'clock.

Fuck!

Cantara? Cantara?

Viper-One, Viper-One, this is Viper-Two.
I got a man down!

They've got counter-sniper support.
How copy?

Start shooting.

We're pinned!

We need to change
this fucking game!

Gotcha, bitch.

Nice work. That's
a game changer.

It wasn't me.

Brandon.

Zaim!

Zaim!

LIGHT 'EM UP, ZAIM!

LIGHT 'EM UP, ZAIM!

RPG!

- Move in! Move in!
- Hustle! Hustle!

Let's push the perimeter! Fucking
push down, let's go! Move in!

Go!

Move in, rig the truck.

Blow all the merch.

Nothing gets back on the market!

Anybody with me?

I'm here.

Cantara's gone.

Corporal, you tough it out.

This is a high stress event.

It's the job.

Clear!

We're blowing this truck!

Watch your backs!

Well, that was a goat fuck, huh?

Looks like your assassin
didn't get the invitation.

Our Intel says he did!

Yeah, well, your
Intel can blow me!

Job's done! Let's get
the fuck outta...

Rookie mistake, Junior.

The air is heavy,
the light is low

and you don't got the range
with that 308, do you, kid?

Sleep tight, kid.

Be advised, be advised, we've got
an unidentified Marine coming in.

Identify yourself.

Thomas Beckett, former US Marine.
Who are you?

What the hell?

The rumor was you were dead,
Master Gunnery Sergeant.

I've been dead before, Major.

Where is Gunnery Sergeant
Brandon Beckett?

I left him back at the base.

Bullshit, he was here.

He's a resourceful kid.

So, this is how you
take care of my son?

Your son is a force recon
Marine Scout Sniper

highly skilled in field
craft and marksmanship.

The Corps has spent a lot of time and
money teaching him how to survive.

Now, are you gonna tell me why
you're on this side of the ground?

- Disappointed?
- A little.

Takes a lot to kill a legend.

If the assassin
thought I was dead,

I figured he'd do what you did.

And what would I do?

Go to the next man on the list.

So, who is the sniper?

- Army Ranger David Simpson.
- Simpson?

Now that's a damn shame.

I put some lead on him, but he was too
far for me to put his lights out.

Master Guns?

A word.

What's on your mind, Major?

To say you're a long way from
home is an understatement.

We're in the middle
of the Middle East.

Allah himself doesn't
know that we're here.

So how do you?

I know people, too.

Are we playing on the same team?

I'm playing to keep Brandon
alive, that's my mission.

And to kill Simpson.

My life, nah, my
life's been lived.

Sun will be up in a couple of hours.
We'll find this guy.

Wait.

This blood's fresh. This
was Simpson's hide.

I'll track Brandon and Simpson.

Yeah, we'll come with you.

Negative, Major.

I counted at least
two other combatants

that lived through your
donnybrook and made it out.

They could be working
with Simpson.

So you two have
to go after them.

I'll go west. I
know that terrain.

Yeah, I'll go to the east.

So if this is more than just
Simpson, who are they working for?

We'll ask whoever
we leave alive.

Happy hunting.

Drop your fucking gun.

Don't move. Put the weapon down.

I don't have one.

What are you doing?

I'm waiting for evac.

Evac?

There's no evac coming for you.

End of the road.

They promised.

Who's "they"?

My recruiter.

My CO.

All of 'em.

What did they promise?

To know I was fighting for
something that mattered.

I was doing good.

Maybe you were.

No.

I wasn't.

Your old man was
out there with me

and it did not do me any good
having him watch my six.

Ah, ah, ah.

Say hi to your old man
when you see him.

- My father's dead.
- Is he?

- Well, you killed him.
- Well, I thought I did, but he's here.

- Here?
- Yep.

He's on the scent,

doing what he does best.

Now, I want you to
do a favor for me.

Tell your old man and the Colonel
that I'm coming for 'em.

Don't you hate that?

- Let's talk.
- You cannot torture me.

Really? Who says?

Your government says.

I can do what the fuck I like.
I'm in Syria.

You think my government sent
me here to follow the rules?

They sent me here to take
down creeps like you.

They don't ask me how I
do it and I don't tell.

Don't ask, don't tell.

Excuse me.

Won't be long.

Colonel.

- Sharpe's dead?
- Yes, he is.

And I got to find out
from a third party?

We've been busy.

Understood. We got to
get this done, Major.

Listen, Colonel, I know
this thing has gone

a bit sideways and I'm
willing to wear that,

but I've got a piece of business
right in front of me now.

What kind of business?

A captive hostile. How
far can I take this?

No limits. Major, don't let
this ax come to my door.

Roger that.

Now where were we?

Now you talk or you die.

He's gone.

Dad?

Hello, son.

You need to rendezvous
with the team.

You're a hard man to find,
Master Gunnery Sergeant.

Yeah.

I guess that's the idea.
Scout Sniper and all.

It's me.

Easy, Master Guns.

Still leaving the unit?

I don't know.

You're fighting a
good war, Brandon.

We're on the right side of it.

Yeah. Well, maybe I just
joined for the wrong reasons.

You should go talk to him.

I don't even know him.

And the next thing I knew, I became him.
I'm not sure where to begin.

"Where the fuck you
been my whole life?"

Start there.

Don't let this moment pass you.

Look here, I know there's some
questions you want to ask me, Gunny.

And I'm afraid you're not
gonna like the answers.

A sniper is just not a father.

I walked. It happened.

Should I go on or can we skip this
sad story with all its tears?

Let's skip it. Let's
talk about the mission.

Okay.

- Simpson, the assassin...
- Simpson's working alone.

Major?

No, he was never with them.

How do you know that?

Well, my guy turned out
to be quite talkative.

- Huh.
- So how do we catch him?

Question.

Who sent all of you out here?

Who else?

The last thing Simpson
said to me was

that he was gunning for
you and the Colonel.

Sounds like a trap to me.

Or a misdirection.

Maybe he wants us
to lead him there.

The Colonel's in Santorini.

In Greece?

That's his new pivot point?

Nice.

Well, looks like we'll
need a cruise ship.

Him?

He's the only one we didn't
take on the mission.

Welcome to the shit, Reese.
All right, let's load up.

Reese, we good?

I'm good.

Unless you wanna go again?

Not really. But we can.

Let's not. You kicked
my ass the first time.

Are these scanners operational?

They should be.

What do you got in mind?

You said this shooter uses a
remote control firing platform.

Remote-firing systems are
linked in to cell signals.

With a cell-tuned
scanner, I could pinpoint

the exact location of
his firing platform.

Get on that.

So, who is this guy anyway?

He's working for someone.

Or he's crazy.

Or both.

I hunted this kid once.

He did the hero
side of Afghanistan

from the Fifth Stryker Brigade.

A 15-month deployment in
the Helmand River Valley.

Heavy action, really heavy.

You know, he was a good Marine,

but it got to his soul.

Messed him up really good.

The psychs tagged him with PTSD,
but they didn't discharge him.

They didn't really
treat him either.

For three months he wandered
the base with a weapon.

January first, he
went into his hooch,

grabbed his weapon and he
shot up a New Year's Party.

Then he trekked up to
Yosemite National Forest.

No food, no shelter,

temperatures dropping
below freezing.

When we finally spotted him, he was
up the mountain above the snow line.

Just sitting there, staring
into dawn's early light.

And then he ate his gun.

If Simpson's broken,

he makes a perfect
puppet for the Colonel.

What? You think he's in on this?

I sure hope to God he's not.

You don't drink coffee?

Not much.

No bad habits?

I like cars.

That's a bad habit?

It is if they're expensive.

How about you?

I like to fish.

Well, maybe we'll
cast a line someday.

- Hey, Dad?
- Yeah.

Might want to get square, if
you're gonna go see a colonel.

Right.

If you get this Simpson
in your sights,

you put some hot lead into him.

One shot, one kill.

Yes, sir.

Brandon?

You hold my weapon.

Master Guns.

Excuse me, sir. You
have a phone call.

Excuse me, please.

Yes, who's this?

Former Master Gunnery
Sergeant Thomas Beckett, sir.

Beckett?

Thought you were dead.

You mean you heard I was dead, but
I'm betting you didn't believe it.

That's true.

Where are you?

On my way to see you.

Are you close?

Very.

Should I send someone?

No, I'll cab it.

1322 Thira Drive.

I know, over.

Say your positions, everybody.

Keep your eyes on the perimeter.

Scanning.

If Simpson's here,
I want him dead.

Wow. Nice office.

You certainly made a deal
with the devil, sir.

This is a breach of protocol.

You didn't have to
see me, Colonel.

You call me up from the grave
and expect me not to respond?

Do you know who I have up there?

Yeah.

The, uh...

The US Attorney
General, Phil Daniels,

the esteemed Senator
from North Dakota,

and the Syrian Rebel Forces.

And from the looks of it, a
couple of Playboy Bunnies.

Well, we don't all wear a
ghillie suit and creep around.

Question.

Did you send an
assassin to track me

and the other members
of Mission Sentinel?

If I sent a kill squad for you,

you would not be here
having this conversation.

Damn, Thomas, we go
back a long way.

Yeah, yep.

- Twenty-five years.
- That's right.

So, if you think I'm
gonna stand here

and let you point your
finger in my face,

you can go to straight
to hell, Beckett.

Well, then tell me
what's happening.

What's happening
is David Simpson.

He's been in the game too
long and he had a meltdown.

And let me tell you something,
there is no conspiracy here.

I'm telling you what I know.

Well, tell me
something, Colonel,

does this, um, black-on-black
work ever wear you out?

Yeah, it does, when
I think about it.

- How's Brandon?
- Ah...

Sins of the father, I guess.

You've given up a lot for
your country, Master Guns.

Maybe it's time you
consider a change of venue.

You can have any job you want.

Because by far, you are the
best Marine I have ever known.

Gunshot came from my six.

Find him and shut him down.

- Get me a location, Malik.
- I'm on it.

God damn it, Thomas! You've
led him right to me.

If he's using a remote
platform, I'm not seeing it.

Got him, 2,600 meters out.

Missed, too far down range.

He's on the move, headed
southbound on the ridge-line.

Roger that, on my way.

I've got a visual on him.

If you have a shot, take it.

That's a negative, I'm in pursuit
on the southbound trail.

Fuck.

Put the weapon down.

Don't do it!

Don't do it.

Vintage Remington 308.

Not the best for accuracy.

Blow his fucking
head off, Sarge!

Talk to me, Malik.

I'm getting a weak signal.

There's no signal with
a remote, Brandon.

I've got the eastern side
of the ruins covered.

Roger that.

I'm gonna draw him out.
Watch for movement.

I'm on the scope, kid.

Waiting to get a vector
on his position.

Give it up, Simpson!
You're done!

This ends badly for you!

Any reading on that
frequency yet, Malik?

I got it.

1,200 meters to the
west, headed there now.

Isn't this fun?

Let's get to it, Junior!

I missed. He's still in play.

Remote platform's not here. He
must have scrambled the signal.

I'm on my way down.

What happened to you, Simpson?

They lied!

I read the reports.

No one ordered you to
fire on your own team.

It was an accident,
friendly fire.

It wasn't an accident.

I was under orders.

They made me do it.

It was not my fault!

Welcome to my kill zone, Junior.

Come on!

Toss it now.

Get the fuck up.

You're enjoying
this, aren't you?

Why shouldn't I?

This is my last hurrah.

The field sniper is a dinosaur.

You're extinct and you're
right in my kill zone.

Now you're right
in my kill zone.

Fucking Beckett.

Two shots, one kill.

You slipping, Master Guns?

It was intended.

The first shot was
just to let him know.

Let him know?

Yeah, let him know
he was about to die.

I feel it coming down

Lying on the ground

Kingdom's never safe

When the king is fooling 'round

A lighthouse on a hill

A wave that never breaks

I throw all my
regrets into the sun

As the sea forgets

You take the key from my hand

You press the button and reset

I shout, I shout, I
shout out at the sky

From the roof of my car, oh

I shout, I shout
out into the night

I need some answers
right now, oh

You got a phone call.

Hello?

Gunnery Sergeant Beckett.

Yes, Colonel.

I wanted to thank you for
being a good Marine.

Not necessary, sir.

We tied this off,

you did most of the
heavy lifting.

That kind of work hits my radar.

Thank you, sir. Is that all?

I understand you put in
a request for leave.

Yes, sir.

Just trying to sort
some things out.

I get it, take some
time, get some rest.

But when you come up for air,

I'll be that knock at your door.

Forgive me if I
don't answer, sir.

You'll answer.

Are you sure about that?

This work we do, it's in your DNA.
Its who you are.

So, yeah, I'm sure about that.

There is one more thing though.
There's been no decision yet,

but if things stack up,

there's a chance you might
see a lot more of your dad.

How so?

He's gonna be your new CO.

Take care of that arm, Colonel.

Oh, and find yourself
a new island.

That hide's been compromised.

Already done.

Swim into the ocean

Lift yourself up off the floor

An army on the street

Marching to the beat, oh

I shout, I shout

I shout

I shout, I shout, I
shout out at the sky

From the roof of my car, oh

I shout, I shout
out into the night

I need some answers
right now, oh

Communication

Why don't you call me?

Call me

Communication

Why don't you call me?

Call me