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- Sequence I-5 completed.

Now commencing batch assembly.

- Iranian media has dubbed it the Horror of Hamadan.

The first of its kind.

Droid infantry units deployed in Iran were used in warfare.

The Mexican government is imploring the US for aid,

as it is ill-prepared to face cartel brutality in Juarez.

- The agency has a policy that is actually putting

robotic weapons into the cartel's hands.

- You are intentionally letting the weapons go to Mexico?

- Yes, ma'am.

- Speculation rises as rumors unfold

of Gearside International's involvement in Juarez.

Specifically, they entail the illicit sale

of military-grade droids on the black market.

- Mr. Fox?

Did you sell your droids to the cartel?

Is Gearside responsible for the bloodshed?

- Xavier Unit 62894.

Completed.

- Okay.

Ah.

You got a smoke?

- Shut up and sit still.

- All right, how about some caffeine?

'Cause I got a headache like you wouldn't believe.

Okay.

How about some morphine?

But not a lot, you know, just enough to kill a horse,

or two.

- Shut up, sit still, and close your mouth.

- Isn't this an unfortunate sight?

This is no place for a true Marine.

- How about your sister?

See, I've read somewhere that orgasms

are amazing for migraines.

Yeah, that wasn't a good idea.

I'm not up for review, so what the hell is this?

Movie night?

- Gunny, recover yourself.

You're dismissed.

You're right.

Reviews, non-existent.

No more retrials.

You'll keep rotting like you've been.

Buried deep down in nothing but darkness.

It's sad, but you're what we call

a casualty of circumstance, an acceptable loss.

- Hm, is that what it's called?

And all this time, I thought I'd just been fucked over.

- It is what it is.

The world needed a villain,

and you just happened to oblige.

- Okay.

What do you want, general?

- Look, I'm not here to bullshit with you, son.

Nor reminisce over failed missions.

I'm here to extend you an opportunity, to make things right.

By us...

And by them.

It's not too late.

One last mission.

No more darkness, you get your life back.

You can't give a dead man his life back.

I'll pass.

They're better off without me.

- It's a simple job.

In and out.

Retrieve the asset, and go home to your family.

- If it's so simple, then why does it have to be me?

- Seven years ago,

Project Chariot was supposed to save lives in combat.

But it didn't.

You were there.

So was this man.

Estevan Flores, lead engineer and scientist

on the Chariot Project.

He's resurfaced.

And intel reveals that he's been working for Gearside.

- Gearside?

- Flores' landing spot after Chariot.

Medical, commercial, and weaponized robotics,

the latter of which is now defunct.

No more droids in warfare.

New Persian AT treaty, ratified by all countries.

- So Estevan is the asset?

- Affirmative.

- That's fine, but I,

I still don't see why it has to be me.

- Droids like this one have been terrorizing

the Mexican city of Juarez for a little over a month.

We're not sure how, but intel leads us to believe

that Gearside has a hand in it,

but the Malvado Cartel has over a dozen of these droids.

And they've been paintin' the city in blood.

This is the hardware in your head.

The malfunction was severe,

makin' it too dangerous to remove.

The chip was designed to remotely manipulate

all droid activity.

You know how it works.

- Yeah.

Except it doesn't.

- It's gotta be you.

Flores can repair the chip.

- Don't get so angry.

Enjoy the tequila.

My father promised you droids.

He's not a man that stupid to break his promises.

- Patience?

Fuck patience!

There are lots of pigs waiting to be skinned.

- These droids are one of a kind killing machines.

You'll be very pleased when they arrive.

- Because if you guys don't keep your promise...

Now that's what I'm talking about!

- Just like we promised.

- Nothing, nothing's gonna stop us now!

- Al Malvado!

- Al Malvado!

- Que?

- What's with the skeleton saint?

- La Nina Blanca?

She keep me safe.

You know, before, I live in Florida, yeah?

Get deported.

It was beautiful there.

But every month, something bad happen.

But here, in Juarez...

something bad happen every day.

- Where are we going?

- That's why I have my santo.

- Americano!

Are you still alive?

Welcome to Juarez.

- Oh, fuck.

Not now...

- Fuck, man, this is just what we need!

- Fuck, how did they know where we were gonna be?

- These droids are gonna tear us apart if we don't move now!

- How are we supposed to do that, Sergeant?

Fuckin' Mr. Miyagi got us pinned down by the end zone!

- I would have gotten a valet,

but I don't trust these Mexicans.

- Let me deal with that.

You just keep blastin' away at these fucks!

A.D.A.M., A.D.A.M., the pick-up's gone to shit!

We need immediate evac!

- Go and kill them!

- How's things, Wright?

- Fantastic.

- Oh, good.

We'll have to catch up later.

- Yep. - Yeah?

Get your gear ready.

We're Oscar Mike.

- Not with that nickel fucker out there.

- These bastards aren't the kind you remember.

Takes a heavy shot to even scratch one of these bitches.

- We need a new fuckin' plan,

this bitch ain't got time for bullets.

- Somebody hit him with a flash bang!

- That could work, that could buy us some time.

Go for it!

Bombs away!

- That shit actually works?

- Yeah, looks like it.

- Oh, shit! - Fuck, we don't have

the power to stop these things, boys.

We gotta make a run for it, it's now or never.

- Yeah, this is some real taxi service, fellas.

- Come on you fucks!

What do you want, an invitation?

- What the fuck's it doin'?

- Don't ask why, just get your asses to the truck!

- Americanos!

I see you all, real soon!

- Is he alive?

- Huh.

Don't know.

My men have happy trigger fingers.

Could be yes, could be no.

- No is not an option.

You must capture the soldier alive.

- Why?

What's changed?

Yesterday, he was just a Marine you wanted dead.

- Yes.

Before, we were unaware of his real importance.

- And that would be?

- You've been rather too inquisitive

for a man that has yet to deliver.

We are very disillusioned, Senor Malvado.

It's been well over a month,

and you have yet to actualize what you promised.

- Making droids is tricky business.

- I don't need to remind you

of the parameters of our partnership, correct?

So forget about why we need the Marine alive,

and simply fulfill the task as such.

Our man will be in touch.

- Jefe?

- Alive.

Why did you stop me?

- Change of plans.

- Why?

I can take care of those bastards.

- Do you know why I sent you?

- I'm your best soldier.

- No.

Because you are weak, and I need you stronger.

I sent you to kill that man.

But now, I want him alive.

I rotted on Las Islas Marias.

Just a boy.

Bled out, the first day...

I should have died...

squealing and choking on my own blood.

Saved me.

Pulled me away from death.

Gave me hope that if I kill and keep on killing...

she would shine her shadow on me,

and I would keep on surviving.

There is no room for weakness in my family.

- I have your blood running through my veins, Jefe.

I'm not weak.

- Bring the Americano, alive.

- No, this seemed calculated.

They knew where the pickup was gonna be.

- Yeah, man, if A.D.A.M. hadn't detected that droid,

we'd have been fucked.

- A.D.A.M.?

- Yeah, he's uh, he's our big brother.

He's always fuckin' watching.

- Fuck that shit.

Why'd they stop?

It makes no sense to just ambush a brother

and leave us alive.

- Yeah, that droid was real close

to sending us all home in body bags.

- I've never seen a droid take so much punishment.

- Where the fuck you been, prison?

Yo, this is Juarez 2045, man.

Technology's a motherfucker.

- We'll figure it out later.

Fall in.

Well then, this here is Senor Carson Wright,

formally of the United States Marine Corps.

He was on the block, but now he's back in action.

And don't ask why.

- Boys.

- Of course, you know you know CSO Sergeant Mickey Stauskas.

These two gagglefucks are Corporals Stewart Hinkley

and Chris Stratton.

- Yo.

- Then there's the scrawny piece of...

Where the fuck is Luke?

- Probably skinnin' it.

- A.D.A.M., where the hell is your boyfriend?

- Sir, Corporal Hemsworth will be

within your immediate vicinity, forthwith.

- Sorry.

Sir, I was trying... - Shut the fuck up, Luke.

This embarrassment is Special Tech Ops Chief,

Corporal Luke Hemsworth.

Best tech in the field, big pain in my ass.

- Sup?

- That it?

'Kay, good, now...

- You forgot to introduce yourself, sir.

- That's because me and Wright go way back.

Ain't that right?

- Sure do.

- All right then, we know two things.

One, Estevan Flores is being held captive

by the Malvado Cartel.

Two, this is an unsanctioned black ops detail.

There'll be no songs sang for us.

- Do we know where he's being kept?

- Nah.

Four days of recon just fuckin' wasted.

The city's too big.

- That's right.

But recently, I got a tip on a nightclub

operated by these bastards.

- Nightclub?

We talkin' titties?

- Luke?

- A.D.A.M., pull up the schematics.

- Simple in and out.

The building isn't complex.

Objective, Miguel Alarcon.

Big shot Malvado captain.

A.D.A.M.?

He operates the nightclub.

We get in, and get this fucker to tell us

where they're holding Flores.

- Sounds like a mission.

- I'm ready.

- Not ready to get your gear packed,

'cause your dumb ass is stayin' here.

- Isn't that right, team leader?

- We'll see.

We're not a go until tonight.

- Damn right we'll see.

Can I get an ooh rah?

Yeah...

You ain't goin'.

- Ooh rah, Corporal Hemsworth.

- Thanks, A.D.A.M..

Yeah.

- Who's A.D.A.M.?

- Did you finish it?

- Yes, I have it with me.

It took me the entire week but

it's finished.

- Careful now.

The slightest error... - Trust me!

I know what I'm doing!

- Help him, he's been electrocuted!

- What's going on?

- He's going into cardiac arrest!

Help him, please!

Come on!

- Now!

Oof!

- No!

- You!

Stand up!

Sit there!

Sit!

How long?

- I-I don't know.

I don't know!

M-maybe a week, I don't...

- Jefe...

Jefe, I'm sorry.

- A week?

I already gave you a month!

- I told you...

I told you, this is not my specialty!

- So you can't finish it?

- No, I can finish.

I can finish!

I...

I cannot concentrate like this!

Please, my daughter, may I please see her?

I have done...

I have done everything asked, everything, for you.

I-I told you what they were planning...

- What?

You fucking bastard!

- It was not supposed to be like this.

I was, I was sent here to help you!

- Men are most motivated

when you threaten the ones they love.

And I don't care what deal was made.

Deals change.

Daughters die.

I don't give a fuck.

Finish...

my weapon...

or I will bring her back to you.

- No...

- This is A.D.A.M..

- A contact lens?

- No, it's not just a contact lens,

it's a state of the art HUD,

using the latest version of the A.D.A.M.

The most sophisticated piece of

artificial intelligence technology.

- It's a droid.

No thanks.

- No.

No, A.D.A.M. is not a droid.

- Oh. - He doesn't have a body.

He's more like a brain.

Fully automated, tactical information system.

He's like a fish that can swim in and out

of any network anytime... - Listen to me, it's a bot.

I don't want anything to do with it, understand?

Give it to somebody else.

- Wait.

Dude, wait.

I can't.

They're all pussies.

Plus, I hate them.

Come on, man.

Just think of it like another operator,

a voice over the phone.

Plus, he'll give you a major tactical advantage in combat.

Something I'm sure somebody who's been

out of the game a while could probably use.

- Fine.

But don't expect me to get friendly with him.

You understand?

- Yeah, yeah.

Don't forget to put the ear piece in.

Everything will start working after that.

A.D.A.M. will help you.

- Sweet Jesus...

- How is it?

Kick ass, right?

- Hello, Carson.

- Say hi, dude.

- Hi.

- We all have earpieces that can

relay and receive information from A.D.A.M..

But you're the only one with the contact lens.

- Corporal, Sergeant Hernandez

requests your presence.

- All right.

I gotta go check in.

Keep that in, and get used to it.

Oh, yeah.

Welcome to the team, bro.

- I hope it's fine that I call you Carson,

as there is no official record of your rank

within my database.

- Oh.

Where exactly are your databases housed?

- My physical systems are housed

within the United States, in a classified location.

Sorry, Carson, you lack the appropriate clearance

to disclose anything further.

- Yeah.

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

- However, to answer your question

more precisely, my database is a collection of databases.

An information cloud.

- Closed networks?

- Any network I am capable of migrating to, any system.

- So you're like a...

Eye in the sky.

- Indeed.

- Listen to me, talkin' to a computer.

- I am much more advanced

than a computer, Carson.

I am A.D.A.M., artificial data aid and management.

- Hmm, thank you, A.D.A.M..

Computer with an ego.

- A.D.A.M., is Wright with you?

We need him down here.

- Copy that, on my way.

- Chris and Stewart are on recon at the nightclub.

In the meantime, we received another tip from the locals.

Supposedly, an old man is trying to unload

a damaged droid.

- What good's a damaged droid?

- Luke thinks it could be important.

It's not far.

Junkyard a few clicks from here.

- Yeah, and if it's one of the cartel's,

maybe we could download the information it processed

before it was damaged.

Could be GPS coordinates.

I'm gonna get everything ready for the download.

- All right.

Mickey, take Wright and repossess that droid.

- You got it.

Come on.

- Wright, give me a minute.

What the fuck is it with you, Wright?

Trouble seems to follow you everywhere you go.

I don't care what the hell you have in your head.

You flip out again like Iran,

and I will cut it from your fuckin' shoulders.

- Hey, Barney.

It ain't gonna be like Iran.

- General?

- Did your team recover Wright?

- Yes, sir.

Though there was an ambush waiting for him.

- Cartel?

- Yes sir.

Somebody wanted to welcome him to Juarez.

- Not important.

What about Flores?

- We think we have a direct line to his location,

but we have to coax it out of a certain Mexican first.

- Find him quickly.

The chip must be repaired.

- Yes sir.

- And Sergeant, when it's done,

the only asset we require is the chip.

Understood?

- Yes sir.

- Let's do this.

Let's go in.

- Hola.

- Um...

Speak English?

- A little bit, yes.

- That's good, that's good.

Uh, my friend and I here, we uh,

we heard you have somethin' very special for sale, huh?

- And uh...

Very expensive too.

- Oh, that's good.

Uh, you see, we're with the United States uh,

Americano, si?

- Ah, si, si.

- Si, and we've come here to pick up the, the droid.

- You uh, you want to buy?

- Uh, well...

- Uh, can we see it?

- Ah, si, si.

I give you gringos a good deal.

- Yeah.

Hmm, bullet holes.

Looks like it's been through some shit.

This is how you found it?

- Yes, yes, I uh,

I find that uh, it's no working.

- This droid looks different from the ones I've seen.

- Yeah, it's probably a prototype.

- Yeah, it looks like less density in the armor.

We better get 'er back to Luke.

- So, do you want it?

- We want it.

But we don't have any money.

- No, no, no, no, no.

- Are you serious?

That is way too much for this, old man.

- No, no, no, no, no.

- Listen to me, it's very important

that we bring this droid back, do you understand?

- I don't care.

Look at all that gold.

No, no, no, no, no.

- Look at this thing, this is pure useless.

You want to charge us $1,000?

You gotta be fuckin'...

Oh shit.

That doesn't sound good.

- It's probably just a rat.

- Oh, rat, my ass.

- Carson, an analysis of the droid's

vital systems suggests the droid is still functional.

I'd prepare to fire.

- Activation.

- You never took its gun when you found it?

Stay put.

- Wright!

It's got grenade rounds!

- Die.

- Wright!

- Carson, the areas highlighted in your HUD

are microcontroller wires that connect

to the droid's processing systems.

Damaging them could incapacitate it.

Carson?

Carson!

Carson!

- Enough!

We need it in one piece.

- Droid disabled.

Damage percentage at 92%.

7% more, and the droid will be completely useless.

- Hey, old man!

You can come out now!

- I've seen that emblem before.

- Gearside.

- Hey!

So you're sure we can't take it with us?

- Just take it.

Gratis.

Gratis.

- Rip off all her clothes!

Show that little princessa how she's supposed to please me.

- No, no!

- Show her how to make me happy.

- What the fuck is this?

- Gabriel?

Just teaching her a lesson.

- Hola, papacito.

- Fuck!

She's just a bitch!

She's just a whore...

- No.

She's our guest.

- I'd like to take you to see your father,

if that's okay.

Clean her up, and get her some clothes.

- Papi?

Papi? - Mija!

- Papi!

- What are you doing here?

Are you hurt?

Let me look, let me look... - I'm-I'm fine, dad.

I'm fine.

What's going on?

I wanna go home!

- I know.

I know, I am working as hard as I can

to get us both out of here.

It will only be a little bit longer, I promise.

- Okay, okay, that's enough.

Time to go.

- No...

- It's okay.

You be good.

- No!

- Thank you.

Thank you.

- Finish my father's weapon.

And I'll promise you...

I'll send your daughter home.

- Dad!

Dad!

No, no!

- I hope it treats you better than it did us.

- What is this, beef?

- No, it's carne de chihuahua.

Relax, it tastes just like a porterhouse.

- How'd it go at the junkyard today?

Heard y'all ran into a bit of trouble.

- Eh, couldn't have been better.

But if you ask me, that old man

was more vicious than the droid.

- Yeah, he was feisty.

- Yeah, he wanted cash money.

And he wouldn't drop his price

until it started shooting at him.

- Reminds me of my grandma.

Man, that lady could haggle.

She knew where all the yard sales were at.

- Your recon turn up anything useful?

- It didn't happen.

We were only there 10 minutes before it got too hot.

- Fuckin' canners everywhere, man.

- You should have seen Chris.

He almost shit his pants.

- If I did, it looked like your black ass.

- Shut up before I beat your ass.

- Okay, bring it.

- Enough good times.

We hit the club at 22:30.

Let's make sure it's smooth.

- All right, I'll give the truck the ol' mani-pedi,

and make sure she's fully serviced.

- Shit, you know what else you could service?

My dick!

- You wish.

- Luke's got some gear for you.

Make sure you know how to use it.

- What are you doing here, Wright?

I mean by all accounts, you should be rotting

another 100 years in prison.

So what's the deal?

- Just here for the bad guys, like always.

- Yeah, I'm not that much of an idiot.

It's gotta have something to do

with that shit they put it your head, right?

Tell me what it does.

- It makes my brain work faster than yours.

- All right.

You can keep your secret.

But somethin' doesn't make sense.

And I don't like it when things don't make sense.

- Carson.

Do you have a moment?

- He's all yours, A.D.A.M.

- Excellent.

I was curious as to why you are not listed

in any of my military indexes.

So I began searching the world's internet.

I have compiled a folder of records

which I believe appertain to you.

Though I am 99.5% certain of this,

I must satisfy the other 0.5% chance that this is not...

So Carson, is this you?

Carson?

Excuse me Carson, but you have yet to answer my question.

Shall I repeat it to you?

- Turn it off!

- Strange.

Your heart rate and respiration have increased by 35%.

This suggests an overall increase of emotional stress,

anxiety, or anger.

Have I angered you, Carson?

- I think you answered your own question.

- I am programmed to learn,

to identify on my own,

with the variables that sway and ultimately decide

my own conclusions.

Did the images upset you, Carson?

Interesting... - A.D.A.M...

- It was not my intention

to do so. - A.D.A.M.!

That's enough.

- I'm sorry.

But this is the best I can do.

You shouldn't have any trouble here.

- Thank you.

But can't you please let us go?

I promise, I won't say anything.

- It's impossible.

Your father is the only man who can give us what we want.

He cannot leave until his work's done.

You remind me so much of my mother.

She was beautiful, too.

I promise, it will all be over soon.

- Fellas, it's time to nut up.

We're a go in 30.

Luke?

- A.D.A.M., bring up the nightclub file.

- Of course.

- From what we know, the club isn't well-protected.

A camera system that A.D.A.M. shouldn't have trouble with.

There are armed guards here and here.

These are entry points.

Smash and storm, and quick and easy.

The real fun starts when we're inside.

We'll be going in blind.

This is the office.

This is where we expect to find Alarcon.

Take a good look at him, boys.

We need him alive.

- What's the timeframe like?

- ET's 10 minutes.

If we don't find Alarcon by then, the op is terminated.

Rotate back and regroup here.

Questions?

All right, let's get to it.

- Just who I wanted to see.

Check these things out.

Newly-issues MICH helmets, internal cooling system,

upgraded anti-ballistics.

These fuckers kick ass.

Just put it on.

- Syncing with the MICH Version 3.

Cooling system's at 100%.

Anti-ballistic threshold, 100%.

Optic systems, 100%.

MICH Version 3100% functional.

- Fuckin' technology, man.

I feel like an astronaut.

- You'll get used to it, man.

- What, you guys too cool for this?

- Oh yeah, that shit's too clunky for me.

Plus, I gotta show off my handsome face on the battlefield.

You know.

- Yeah, I need complete visibility

when I'm goin' all Bruce Lee on them bitches.

Those are not designed for hand-to-hand.

- I guess I'll be the guinea pig, then.

- No, no Wright, you're just smarter than these two.

Those helmets give you a measured tactical advantage.

It's just math.

- Oh, math?

Like one plus one equals fuck you.

- Whatever.

Listen, I won't be there with you tonight.

So, don't get fuckin' killed.

- I thought you were ready, ready.

- I am ready.

But I think it's best for the team

if I chill here and get some stuff done.

- Oh, okay.

Make sure you get the windows, house mama, okay?

Fuck you.

Uh...

Wright, can I talk to you for a minute?

Listen, A.D.A.M. told me what happened.

Don't hate him too much for it.

He's still learning some things,

and it's gonna take some getting used to.

But trust me.

He'll save your life.

All right, gentlemen.

Good luck.

- Gabriel!

- Si?

You wanted to see me?

- The Americanos are their way to the club.

They're searching for the engineer.

- Who told you this?

- The Marines have a little rat on their team.

He whispers all their secrets, for cheese.

- Then why not tell me sooner?

My men and I could have killed him by now.

- Because I need the new one alive.

Gearside is hiding something.

Something about that Americano is special.

Whatever it is...

I'm going to get it from them.

- Fine.

Then I will go to the club and take him alive.

- I'm not done with you yet.

- What's this?

Hmm.

Ah...

This is my failure as a father,

and your failure as a son.

- She means nothing!

No!

- Love is weakness.

Bring me the Americano, or I'll lay your body next to hers.

- This is the only mother that I need.

- So, uh...

I still can't figure it out.

Why you?

Why here?

What's your endgame?

- Just another expendable piece.

- Nah.

I ain't that stupid.

What really happened in Ira...

- Guards disabled.

- A.D.A.M., take out the cameras.

- Cameras deactivate in five,

four,

three,

two,

cameras now offline.

- Something's wrong with the camera.

Go find out what happened.

The only protection I'll be needing right now is this.

- Carson!

Carson!

- We'll take care of things down here.

You and Wright head up to the office and take Alarcon.

10 minutes, no more.

All right?

Quick and easy, no mistakes.

Ooh rah!

- Ooh rah!

- Head on a swivel.

- Stairs.

How's it going?

I'll hold them off!

You find the target!

- What?

- Go! - Back in a flash.

- Sir, I took the liberty of rerouting

the building's security system,

and I have successfully accessed the video feeds.

That said, there are a dozen or so armed men

approaching the building.

- You couldn't have said so sooner?

- I suppose I could have, yes.

- Mickey, we've got multiple contacts!

Mickey?

A.D.A.M., you got eyes on Mickey?

- Yes sir.

Sergeant Stauskas is currently on the second floor.

Mickey, can you hear me?

- Loud and clear, cowboy.

What can I do for you?

- Sergeant Hernandez requires you to contact him.

Immediately.

- Yes sir.

Just as soon as I find my rabbit.

- By rabbit, I assume you mean, Miguel Alarcon.

If you like I can scan for heatsign...

Sergeant?

Our signal seems to be drop...

- Wright, Mickey's not answering!

Don't let your guard down, and get the fuck down here!

We're in trouble!

- Didn't mean to spoil your fun, huh?

- No, please, I'll give you whatever you want.

Please!

- No.

No, you know what?

Get up.

I don't want to kill a man on his knees.

- No, please!

Please, I'll tell you where.

Malvado is hiding, please! - Stand the fuck up!

- No, he has a girl and he has the father.

Please!

Please...

- No.

- Please... - Fuck you.

Shit.

Look at my boots.

Shit.

- Where's Alarcon?

- He drew first.

- I just saved your fuckin' ass, big time!

- Huh, what?

No-no, you didn't.

- Look behind you man!

Open your fuckin' eyes!

- I had him anyway.

- Took your sweet fuckin' time.

- Did you miss us?

What the fuck happened to you?

- What, man?

Had to use Excalibur.

- Bitch, you actually named your knife?

- You know it.

- Where the fuck was Alarcon?

And where the fuck were you?

- He's dead.

- Dead?

Did you get anything out of...

Americanos!

I'm here to collect your heads!

- Jesus Christ, fuckin' Barney, man!

- Fuck.

Fuck, I'm hit in my side.

- So I can take them back to my father.

And receive his approval.

Shit!

- And cut his fucking heart out with a crucifix!

- We gotta move.

- Jesus, fuckin', my arm!

Oh, fuck, I'm hit in my side!

Shit!

Shit...

All right.

Mickey and I will try to divert their fire.

When that happens, you guys make a run for the truck.

- Oh, come on!

Get up and die like good soldiers do!

- A.D.A.M., can you display their video feed on my lens?

- Hello, Carson.

It's good to hear your voice again.

- A.D.A.M., shut up, there's no time for that.

Can you play the feed?

- Yes.

Rerouting feed to your lens now.

- All right, good.

Mickey, on my mark.

Run left as fast as you can.

And we'll see if we can turn these tin cans around.

All right?

Ready?

Three, two, one.

Go!

- That's it.

This is the American way.

- Come on, come on!

- You better not tell anybody about this.

- Just fuckin' run!

- A distraction.

It's okay.

The one that I really want is right here.

- Now what?

- How about you and me go around the world

on these toasters?

- You're one crazy son of a bitch.

- I'm right here!

- Now!

- What the fuck is this?

- Jesus Christ, what the fuck happened?

- We were outnumbered four to one.

Get the med kit!

- Those fuckers were waiting for us!

We'll fix you up.

- Fuck, guys.

Wait, where's Hernandez?

- Dead.

- He was taken out by droids.

There was nothing we could do.

- What about the mark?

Did you guys get anything?

- It's a dead end, literally.

- It was him or me.

- Things are all kinds of fucked up right now, guys.

- Excuse me gentlemen,

but I have an incoming Holocall for Sergeant Hernandez.

- Uh, I got it.

- Wright, where's Hernandez?

- He's dead.

They were waitin' for us.

- What about the location?

Do you know where Flores is being held?

- Negative.

- Damn.

- There's a rat leaking information.

- An informant?

Impossible.

I'm the only soul alive that knows you're there.

- Listen to me, someone is selling us out.

We got a dead Marine and another one wounded

because our op is being compromised.

- Listen, Wright.

Failure is unacceptable.

Forget the rat.

Flores is the key.

Find him.

Do what you have to do.

But don't come home without him,

or you won't have a home to come fucking back to.

- Fuck!

- I guess that's it, boys.

Back on the yellow brick road.

- Not necessarily, Toto.

- Damn.

You've been busy.

Anyway, after scrubbing his memory silos,

I discovered a tracking algorithm

hidden in the main controller.

Basically, it stored every route this thing's traversed

since its assembly.

- Knew every route?

What are you sayin'?

- I'm sayin' I know where they are.

- All right.

It's about time we get the drop on these sumbitches.

- Definitely.

- Yeah.

- Get some rest.

Then tomorrow, we take it to 'em.

Good work.

- Jefe?

He's dead, they killed him.

Gabriel is dead.

We couldn't do anything.

The building was filled with them.

- May Santa Muerte bless you.

- No!

- Oh, my little rat.

- What's up? - Hey.

Check this out.

- What is it?

- Oh nothing, just something that should stop a droid

in its tracks.

- A grenade? - Kind of.

I call it an IED-EMP.

Made 'em this morning.

- Sounds good, what's it do?

- So when it's thrown, it resonates a strong magnetic field,

adhering it to any metal surface, right?

- So kind of like a uh, sticky bomb for droids?

- Exactly.

Except instead of blowin' shit up, it fries any electrical devices

within its radius.

- I like the sound of that.

- Wait, Christmas isn't over yet.

I got more.

So last night, as I was analyzing the droid's systems,

I got to thinking maybe, just maybe,

I could add a subroutine, modify its existing code.

- Okay?

And that means?

- A virtual machine.

An operating system, within an operating system.

Luke, slow down, okay?

Just in English, please.

- Maybe you should sit.

You wanna sit?

- Yeah.

- All right.

It's a way for A.D.A.M. to hijack a droid.

A.D.A.M.!

- Hello, Carson.

- Whoa, dude, put your gun down.

It's A.D.A.M..

- That-that's A.D.A.M.?

- Yeah.

- Luke, what the fuck did you do?

- I gave us another soldier.

- You crazy sumbitch...

How we doin'?

- Good to go.

- How's that's wound?

- Just a scratch, you know.

- All right.

- Whoa, Jesus.

- I am not gonna get used to that any time soon, guys.

- It's just A.D.A.M..

He's perfectly safe, to us.

To them, he should be pretty brutal.

- Hey boys.

Guess it's that time, huh?

- All right, let's kick some ass.

- All right.

You can go sit next to your boyfriend.

Let's see if these bad boys work.

- Ooh wee, why didn't we use these sooner?

- I don't know.

I never thought of them before, I guess.

- Whew.

All right.

Stewart, Chris.

You guys hang back.

They might be comin' on hot, so be ready.

- Okay.

All right, well, good luck.

- We don't need luck.

We're too badass.

- All right, well, don't die, badass.

- Security camera, two o'clock.

It's rotational.

- I see it.

Okay, on my mark.

Go, go, go, go!

- Yo, the hell with this.

I'm goin' back to the truck, take the big bitch.

- Clear.

There.

A.D.A.M., can you tap into these feeds?

Display it on my lens?

- Unfortunately, while synced to this droid,

my ability to traverse systems is limited.

- Shit.

All right Luke, I'm gonna need you to be my eyes, okay?

You stay here.

Report to me anything that I need know.

Mickey, you stay with him.

Pull security.

We meet up once I've secured Estevan.

- Roger that.

- All right, let's do this, A.D.A.M..

My God...

Whew.

Look at all this money.

- It's actually cocaine, Carson.

Crystallized tropane alkaloid narcotic.

Obtained from the leaves of the coca plant,

it is highly addictive, and in high doses,

can cause cardiac arrest.

- Yeah.

Remind me to grab a brick for later.

- Understood.

- Activation.

- What the hell?

- It appears they have produced

a new model of the droid.

Fascinating.

It's actually quite an ingenious design.

- Yeah, that's helpful.

- Indeed.

Shall I engage in combat, Carson?

- Yes, engage, engage!

Don't just stand there!

Move!

- About fuckin' time.

- Shit!

That thing's insane!

- Yeah.

That shouldn't be a problem.

Not one of them suspect me.

It's kind of sad, really.

Yes sir, that works just fine.

Yeah, they won't know what hit 'em.

Any more direct hits,

and your helmet won't withstand the impact.

- Oh, yeah, I don't plan on it, mom.

EMP!

Damn, those fuckers work.

- Activation.

- Not yet.

It appears its armor is too dense,

insulating it from the grenade's effect.

- Shit!

Shit!

- Your helmet has been rendered useless.

Another hit would be fatal.

- Activation.

Activate.

- A.D.A.M.!

EMP!

- This droid can no longer impede your mission.

Shall we continue?

- No...

- Yeah, it's done.

Yeah, send some more men outside.

You got two of 'em by the entrance.

Yeah.

- You're a real piece of shit, you know that?

- Excuse me, what was that?

- You're a real piece of shit.

- Oh.

Thank you.

I am a piece of shit.

But you know what?

Pretty soon, I'm gonna be a real rich piece of shit.

- Fuck you.

What kind of bastards sells his brothers out for money?

- Okay.

Okay, fair question.

Fair question.

How about the kind that doesn't want to die

in fuckin' Mexico?

Or the kind that doesn't want to go back to the US

and fuckin' blow his own brains out?

No.

There is no glory in this for us.

None.

So you know what?

I'm cashin' out, bitch.

And you?

You...

Oh, you can stay here and die with your brothers.

- What the fuck?

- That's right.

You should have stayed in prison.

- Man, it's been way too long.

Something's gotta be wrong.

- Shit, this ain't lookin' good.

- Maybe another ambush?

- You think?

- Shit's possible with that fuckin' rat out there

givin' us up.

- Shit, contact!

- Shit!

- Yeah, shit's definitely wrong!

- You have an uncanny ability

to disappoint us, Mr. Malvado.

And we don't handle disappointment well.

- That's too bad.

Because I'm breaking my promise.

And I'm taking your droids, and your money.

- You're making a very large mistake, Malvado.

One you will soon live to regret.

- I've made many mistakes in my life.

Bowing down to a little man like you isn't one of them.

You want blood?

It pours freely here in Juarez.

Listen to me you...

- Well!

America's finest!

- Jesus, what the fuck is that?

- That, Senor Rata...

Is the blood of 1,000 Mexicans.

A suit of death, and my chariot to power.

- Holy shit, you built a mech?

What the fuck, are you Japanese?

- All right, which one, Mr. Rat?

- Him.

- Well...

No horns?

Not no wings?

Just a gringo.

So, what the fuck you doin' in my town?

- Vacation.

- So, you're just a tourista, huh?

Taking in the sights?

Well...

Let us welcome you to Juarez,

with some real Mexican hospitality.

We will have a great time.

- What is, what is going on?

Why are these men here?

- Shut up!

Stand him up!

- Get the fuck away from me!

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Huh?

Showtime.

Always ready to stick your nose where it don't belong.

You think you can just dive in, no?

But here in Juarez, great white sharks

swim the streets.

And...

We eat everything.

Right down to the bone.

Now, gringo.

I'm gonna want some answers.

But I don't think you're gonna give 'em to me.

- Don't do it...

- Do what, this?

Ah, that's too easy.

Engineer!

Power up the guns.

- Is this what you want?

It'll tear him apart.

- Perfecto.

- No.

No, I-I will not be a part of this.

- "No, I will not be a be a"...

You, power up the gun, or I will drag your daughter in here

and she can take his place!

- No!

Please!

God forgive me...

- No!

- You have to wait your turn, Carson.

- No!

- I swear, I didn't hit him that hard.

- It's the chip.

- What chip?

- You need to break the chip set that is

hard wired in his head.

It is designed to emit electrical impulses which

are set on a continuous loop.

It disrupts the pathways of the brain.

- How the fuck do you know all that?

- 'Cause I am the one who designed it.

This man, his name is Carson Wright.

It is sad to say, but he should have died a long time ago.

- And what does it do?

- It's a master control.

It, uh...

Commands a large number of droids at a distance.

- Iran?

Yes.

- So...

So, you're the loco

that burned an entire village with droids.

You know, they banned droids because of that shit.

Changed the whole world.

Don't get too used to that hardware, huh?

'Cause I'm gonna rip it right out of your head.

- Go to hell, you fuckin' coward.

- Soon.

But how about first, I send your friend ahead of me?

Do it.

Do it! - Please, I-I-I cannot.

- Yes, of course you can.

You just have to press a few buttons.

- Don't do it, Estevan!

- Shut up!

- Go on, show him my new guns.

You shoot him...

Or you will be seeing the insides of your daughter.

- Why?

Why are you doing this?

I-I have finished the suit...

- No!

No!

I'll kill you!

- What the fuck?

Kill this piece of shit!

- Come on, you fuckin' rat!

- Holy shit!

Come on, open the suit!

- There!

Now please, let me take my daughter home now, please!

- That's impossible.

Your daughter is with Santa Muerte.

- No!

- And now you're going there too!

- Let's show these putos what death really is!

- You are advanced AI, correct?

- Yes.

- Listen...

L-listen to...

- Hey, tourista!

This is my fuckin' city!

And all you gringos

are trespassing!

- Oh, fuck!

- Hey, Americano!

Dead or alive, don't worry, I'll take care of your head.

With that chip, I can command an entire army.

And then, not just Juarez,

but all of Mexico will bow at my feet!

- You are severely injured.

If medical attention is not sought soon, you will die.

- Incredible...

Are you programmed...

To imitate human emotion?

- No, why?

- Was that man your friend?

- Friend?

That distinction is...

I don't know.

- Did you share...

Important things together?

- Yes.

- Then he was your friend.

- A.D.A.M., can you see Flores?

- Yes.

In fact, I'm staring right at him.

- Uh, the chip.

The chip, can he fix it?

- Can you repair the chip in Carson's head?

- No...

It was never broken.

They paid me to s-sabotage it.

- Uh, A.D.A.M.?

- Carson, do you think you can lead

this monstrosity outside?

We may have devised a plan.

- Ah, it's about time, goddamn it.

- Does that mean yes?

- You bet your ass it does.

- Why are you running?

I thought Marines had courage!

That boy stood there and died like a man!

Are you a coward, or a real marine?

- Wait!

Don't shoot him!

This bitch is mine!

- Come on, goddamn it, let me shoot this son of a bitch!

- Gentlemen, if you're still alive out there,

Carson is heading your way,

and in need of your immediate assistance.

- Give me a second, I'm just taking out the trash.

- Ooh, I'm a bad man!

Damn!

- What the fuck?

I had him!

What, no, no, no!

Don't bring him here!

Shit!

- What the fuck is that?

- That robo-suit is being operated

by Angel Malvado.

- That motherfucker's a suit?

- Oh, God!

That's one big robot.

You got an EMP?

- My first strike, let's do it.

What's wrong, Americanos?

You guys always talk so tough!

But look at you now, when someone else has all the toys!

You run...

Fuck!

- What the fuck is that thing made of?

- It bought us some time, let's roll!

Shit!

- Thought you could run around forever?

- Oh!

God!

Move, move, move!

Fuck!

A.D.A.M., where is this plan of yours?

- I just initiated the launch sequence

of 20 droids.

- And that helps us how?

- I am currently en route to your location,

and will explain presently.

A.D.A.M.?

A.D.A.M.!

- Before the political pig banned it,

bullfighting was in every coliseum in Mexico!

And as a boy, there was no greater pleasure

than seeing el torero run his sword

straight through a bull's spine!

Time to die, little bull!

- Come on, A.D.A.M.!

- Don't worry bitches, I got you!

- You guys are like cucarachas!

I hate cucarachas!

- No!

- Grenade!

- Americanos, it's time to end this game.

- Carson?

Carson?

Carson?

Carson?

Carson, get up.

Carson, you still have to fight.

- Carson, get up.

- It's time to send you back over the border, gringo!

In pieces!

- Please refrain from attempting to damage

my friend.

- I don't know what the fuck you are,

but it's gonna take more than one droid to take me under!

- Interesting that you should mention that.

It just so happens that a friend of mine

can control an entire army.

- Hey!

Fuck you!

My own fuckin' droids?

You stupid metal corpse!

- Oh, A.D.A.M...

You sneaky sumbitch...

- You fuckin' idiots!

My armor's too thick!

You have no chance!

I'll rip you apart!

Vamonos, you piece of shit!

Get up!

Come on!

Fuck!

Hey, gringo!

You think it's over?

It's not over 'til Santa Muerte says it's over!

And she still wants blood!

- You can go tell Santa Muerte

she can go fuck herself!

- Did we win, Carson?

- Yeah, something like that.

- Doesn't feel like it.

It doesn't make me feel good.

- Violence solves problems, A.D.A.M..

It doesn't always make you feel good.

I'm goin' home.

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