Original subtitles

-Welcome home, son. -Your sneak attack strategy.

Still in top form.

Look at ya! Welcome back, gents.

But you boys have landed on the cusp, the mouth, the lips of your motherland.

But nothin' but a newly red Laos to block your path.

Let's get down, let's get down. Let's get funky. Come on!

the fighting began that night in The Hellhole.

Right from the start, I could feel where this was going.

It was like a farewell party on death row.

Have fun tonight, boys. Uncle Sam, pickin' up the tab.

Claude knew I could smell the blood in the air.

He wanted me to.

He was counting on it.

So, this mission, it's not--

Its chance of a success, it's not, like, zero, is it?

Nothin' in the world has a 0% chance.

-Of course. Right. -Yeah.

Hey, you keep your head down and leave the fighting to these schmucks.

You hear me?

You wonder if this operation will succeed.

to how classified it's managed to remain.

Like how the success of any joke rests on if it's funny.

Give me that rucksack, will you?

I am a communist. I've been an agent for years.

I infiltrated the Secret Police and sent intelligence back to Hanoi.

Even now, I report on reactionary activities

and do everything I can to undermine them.

In fact, me handing you these documents now

is part and parcel of my anti-anti-revolutionary strategy.

You want me to say I'm a communist too?

I'm being honest for once.

This is what we do.

Target was Sonny, not you.

-Listen, Claude-- -Drink up.

For 48 hours, it'll make you evacuate quite dramatically from both ends.

-Why would I? -Because I'm giving you a fucking out.

And once you've confessed all your misadventures,

you'll find I'm very forgiving about minor transgressions.

It's your funeral, pal.

I just ordered this pint, please.

On me, if you would. Haven't even had a sip.

Welcome. It's so nice of you to join us.

I already want to.

The electric eel.

-If you don't tell anyone. -If you don't tell anyone.

-Can you do that? -Can you do that?

-Can you be a big boy? -Can you be a big boy?

Don't forget me, son.

Your problem is you have bones.

Because we don't.

So let's get rid of those bones.

On your knees!

It's not necessary, but it does have to happen.

Please, don't pretend you're above it.

That's right.

Nothing is more precious than independence and freedom.

Nothing is more precious than independence and freedom.

Nothing is.

It's nothing.

Nothing.

The thing is more precious than independence and freedom,

is nothing.

Yes, of course.

What else?

Destination: Who knows where?

Away from home, that's all I know.

Will we make it there?

According to the boatman, our chances are 50/50.

"Pretty good odds," says Bon.

Despite everything, in the face of nothing,

I am still a revolutionary.

My re-education is over, but I still write every day.

This time for myself, for us.

Rewrite.

Relive.

Restart.