♪ ♪
Close it up.
(ENGINE TURNS OFF)
(JET ENGINES WHOOSHING IN DISTANCE)
♪ ♪
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
You know, the SOC-R would've been a better boat
- for the river work. - (VEHICLE BEEPING)
What boat?
We're not even supposed to be there.
So, where are we going? Central or South America?
MATICE: Who said anything about our destination?
You asked me how my Spanish was, remember?
And I didn't think we were invading Mexico anytime soon.
I'll manage.
Well, you better hurry up and get on that plane
if you want to get a window seat.
("CAN'T YOU HEAR ME KNOCKING" BY THE ROLLING STONES PLAYING)
What's your name?
Marcus.
No, your call sign.
Mine's Coyote.
And that, uh, piece of shit over there, that's Disco.
♪ Satin shoes... ♪
Black Mamba.
Like Uma Thurman in, uh, Kill Bill?
- No, like Kobe. - Yeah, that sucks.
Not gonna work. You're a boat guy, right?
- Yeah, SWCC. - All right.
- So, you, uh, you're a driver? - Yeah.
Uber.
That's your name.
Ub... Fuck that. Black Mamba.
Yeah, sorry, Uber, but your name's fucking Uber.
- MAN (OVER SPEAKER): Two minutes! - (ALARM BUZZES)
♪ On your window... ♪
- Ten klicks from drop zone. - COYOTE: Roger that.
MATICE: Hey!
What's with the nerves? You've done this before.
(CHUCKLES)
Yeah, all the time.
You'll be fine.
- Just like riding a bike. - MARCUS: Oh, yeah?
Not really, but I thought you could use
a little confidence booster.
Where'd you get that bling from?
It's my dad's ring. The Naval Academy.
Well, hang on to it, man. Might come in handy
in case you need to knock a motherfucker out or something.
♪ Ain't no stranger ♪
♪ Help me, baby ♪
♪ Ain't no stranger... ♪
MAN (OVER SPEAKER): Approaching drop zone.
- Let's go, motherfucker! - Yeah!
Whoo! Yeah! Let's go!
(EXHALES)
♪ ♪
(ALARM BUZZES)
Let's go, bitches!
- Geronimo! - Whoo!
You better hurry up or you're gonna have a long swim!
Oorah, motherfucker!
(GRUNTS)
♪ ♪
(GRUNTING)
(GASPING) Oh, fuck.
Gotcha, boss.
(PANTING)
Hey, new guy. There's a hole in the boat.
- His name's Uber. - No, it's not.
(LAUGHS) Uber. I like that one.
Thank you.
Shit. The electronics got wet.
Guys, we're better than 20 klicks offshore.
That's a long swim.
Fiberglass crack, but I can fix it.
How long's it gonna take to un-fuck this?
Everybody off the boat.
You want it to sink?
Everybody get the fuck off the boat.
Let's go! Off the boat!
(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)
Jesus Christ.
Can't believe anyone's buying this shit.
How's the interrogations coming?
More than 50 locals work in that building.
We're interrogating all of them. Love to tell you
that none of them are spies for Reyes,
- but that's just not the case. - Well, your ex is putting on
- one hell of a show. - MIKE: Yep.
She does her job well.
- How's your back? - I'll be fine.
I got people checking all the hospitals
for anyone with an injury to the left eye.
- Jim, how you feeling? - I'm good.
They took off before I got there.
Ryan got the worst of it.
All right. Take a walk with me, both of you.
You got to know this is bullshit.
The F.A.I. is a tiny leftist militia.
Anti-Americanism isn't even in their DNA.
I agree.
Ambushing U.S. senators in downtown Caracas
is not their style or skill set.
Which is why, as far as headquarters is concerned,
I never saw the memo they sent telling us to stand down.
(DOOR OPENS)
You met José.
- Sir. - MIKE: This is Navarro.
They're gonna roll with us down to the waterfront.
JACK: Waterfront?
You go down to the cargo port,
you run into some shady South African dude,
then you get jumped and nearly killed out of the blue?
Just seems like we ought to go check it out.
(KEYPAD BEEPING)
Gracias.
Hmm?
(CARLOS CHUCKLES)
Buenos días.
(ENGINE STARTS)
¿Señora?
(INDISTINCT RADIO CHATTER)
(SPEAKING SPANISH)
Said you got to wear your vest and the badge.
Morten Haugland?
Yeah, that makes perfect sense.
(MEN SPEAKING SPANISH IN DISTANCE)
♪ ♪
JACK: All right, just park here.
Cinco Palmas is right there.
MIKE: Hey.
- How's he doing? - Ryan? What do you mean?
He and the senator were close. Is this too personal for him?
GREER: No, he can handle it.
We were on the Suleiman task force together.
And?
He's the one that ran Suleiman down in the Metro.
He shot him and killed him.
Well, they were fucking organized, whoever they were.
They even swept the floors.
All right, let's get out of here.
We know they went upriver.
My S.A.D. guys just got in theater a couple hours ago.
They're standing by at the mouth of the Orinoco.
- Wait. You got a boat? - Yeah, and four guys.
- You didn't say anything. - You didn't ask.
They gave me an eight-digit grid for a rally point in the jungle.
I'm gonna meet them, then go upriver to the cargo depot.
All right, well, then I'm coming with you.
Mike.
You're chief of station.
Yeah. Extra manpower won't hurt.
I want sitreps every couple hours, minimum.
Of course.
I'm driving.
Did I tell you how much I miss you?
Not yet.
♪ ♪
(ENGINE STARTS)
So, I can be Black Mamba now?
We'll upgrade you to Uber Select.
- (ENGINE REVVING) - Whoa!
♪ ♪
(SNIFFLES)
(CHUCKLES SOFTLY)
No, no.
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
(LAUGHS)
(GRUNTS SOFTLY)
Gracias.
(CHATTER CONTINUES IN SPANISH)
Buenos días.
Muchas gracias. Buenos días.
(CHATTER CONTINUES IN SPANISH)
- (LAUGHS) - (CAMERA CLICKS)
- (GLORIA SIGHS) - (CHATTER CONTINUES)
Muchas gracias.
Buenas.
(EXCITED CHATTER)
(CROWD CHANTING IN SPANISH)
Gracias.
(GLORIA SPEAKS QUIETLY)
(CHANTING CONTINUES)
Sí. Sí, sí, sí.
(MAN SPEAKING SPANISH OVER MICROPHONE)
(CROWD CHEERING)
♪ ♪
(CROWD QUIETS)
(CROWD JEERING)
(CROWD MURMURS)
(CROWD CHEERING)
♪ ♪
(CROWD CHEERING)
(CROWD CHANTING IN SPANISH)
(CHANTING FADES)
JACK: So how you feeling?
I'm fine.
Anything you want to talk to me about?
No.
Here, I think you dropped these.
If there was something you needed to know,
I'd tell you.
♪ ♪
All right. Let's go.
(BIRDS CHIRPING)
(INSECTS BUZZING)
These damn mosquitoes.
They're not even touching you.
I'm a Louisiana boy.
In Turkey, you said you were from Cincinnati.
(SIGHS) Are you that fucking gullible, Bright Boy?
I'm from Belle Chasse, just outside of New Orleans.
Got the bayou in my veins.
Well, that doesn't really matter 'cause mosquitoes are attracted
to carbon dioxide, not place of origin.
Well, contrary to popular opinion,
mosquitoes have tremendous visual acuity.
They love color.
- Is that true? - Yeah.
They don't fuck with me because they know the truth.
What is the truth?
I bite back.
Here we go.
El Jefe is in the house.
All right, Uber, swing us around up here, okay?
I sincerely hoped I would not see you motherfuckers again.
Yeah, likewise.
And you, Mr. Doctor of Economics,
who never sent me a fucking stock tip.
The secret is to get yourself a really good S&P 500 index fund.
Telling me you dragged me all the way up this river
to tell me I should buy
- a fucking index fund? - (CHUCKLES)
Goddamn.
On top of that, I didn't bring any bug spray.
- GREER: Here. Take mine. - Oh, thanks.
Oh, you bite back?
MATICE: Little Miss Sunshine over here
is called Coyote.
This warrior princess is Disco.
Over here we got Uber Duber.
He'll take us wherever we want to go. Isn't that right, Uber?
- Whatever he says. - GREER: Okay.
Let's be clear.
This is ISR only. No cowboy stuff.
Do not fire unless fired upon, okay?
Got it?
In. Out. Rinse. Repeat.
Once we're inside, we'll open up one or two containers,
look for illegal arms shipments.
Ryan here will check the rad levels.
I'll take some photographs.
The rest of you are perimeter security.
Then we go home.
No one will ever know that we were even here.
Any questions?
GREER: As you all know,
we have no air support; That means this boat
is our only way in and out of the jungle.
Entonces, there's no room for fuckups, kids.
All right, let's do this.
♪ ♪
(QUIET CHATTER)
No. No, no, no.
(LAUGHTER, LIVELY CHATTER)
- Max Weber. Max Weber. - Max Weber. -Huh?
- (GROUP SINGING IN SPANISH) - (LIVELY MUSIC PLAYING)
(SINGING IN SPANISH)
(CHEERING)
♪ ♪
(NIGHT BIRDS CHIRPING)
Okay, up here.
JACK: They must've moved most of the containers to higher ground.
MARCUS: The water on this part of the river's unpredictable,
so it makes sense they'd move things inland.
GREER: According to the sat photos, the main camp
is 400 meters northwest of here.
Okay, Uber, swing us around.
Drop us 500 meters south.
♪ ♪
Well, I've got some bad news.
Radios got fucked on the drop.
So we'll go without comms.
Copy that.
If we get separated, y'all stay put.
These IR beacons are gonna lead us right to your location.
Okay.
Hey, since we ain't got comms,
you see us coming, you got to be ready to jet.
- You copy? - Copy.
Good.
(WATER SPLASHES)
♪ ♪
(TRUCK ENGINE RUMBLING)
♪ ♪
(INSECTS CHITTERING)
(INDISTINCT SHOUTING IN DISTANCE)
GREER: Okay.
See those containers at the edge of the camp?
We could get in and out.
♪ ♪
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
Move.
♪ ♪
GREER: What does the Geiger say?
Nothing.
GREER: What the fuck is this?
MATICE: Somebody's coming.
Doc, we got to go now.
Shit.
Go.
Wait.
There's more containers.
MATICE: There's no weapons, Doc.
You made a bad call. It's time to go.
Where in the fuck is he going?
Ryan.
Ammonium nitrate.
JOST: Oi!
You.
Put your hands on your head.
Still looking for your coffee beans?
(GRUNTS)
(WHEEZING)
Are you alone?
Nope.
Put your gun down.
Slowly.
Doc.
You cover this shit whistle?
Look at what we found.
Hook him up.
(GRUNTS)
Who are you?
Listen to me.
What is Reyes doing in the jungle?
COYOTE: Yo, let's smoke this motherfucker and bounce.
He's an unarmed combatant. We're not just gonna kill him.
MATICE: Well, we sure as shit
ain't gonna bring him with us.
We don't have time for this. You heard my friend.
What are you doing in the jungle?
Fuck you.
All right.
Fuck me? Which hand do you shoot with?
- Huh? - (SCREAMS)
- Holy shit. - GREER: Any more noise
and I'll take another one.
(JOST GROANS)
You wanted to know who he is, right?
DNA.
- MATICE: Get on your knees. - GREER: Let's go.
(MUFFLED GRUNTING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
MARCUS: Shit.
(GREER WHEEZING)
You all right?
- I'm fine. Get on the fucking boat. - Come on, we got to go.
I told you, I'm fine.
I told you, I don't work for you anymore.
Let's go.
(INDISTINCT CHATTER)
(MUFFLED GRUNTING)
(MEN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY)
♪ ♪
MAN: Here they are!
(INDISTINCT SHOUTING)
- Fire! - (GUNSHOTS)
MATICE: Contact rear!
MAN: Got 'em at the wall!
MATICE: Stay close to the wall! Stay close, stay close!
Move! Move! Get across!
Move!
Fuck!
Shit.
- Come on. - (GRUNTS)
Uber, fire up the fucking engine!
Uber!
(MAN SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY)
The fuck is he?
(GROANS)
Where the hell is Uber?
We'll come back for him.
(PANTING)
(INDISTINCT CHATTER IN DISTANCE)
♪ ♪
Going to drop you and Ryan off,
and then we're going back for Uber.
Sounds good.
What happened back there...
We came here to search containers.
So that's what I did.
I have a heart condition.
And it's not a good diagnosis.
That's the reason why I left Moscow.
Who else knows?
Chief of station in Moscow.
And you.
If the higher-ups found out about this,
they'd put me on a desk or force me into retirement.
What are you gonna do?
I don't know.