1
This is Gunnery
Sergeant Dave Torres,
M-SOT team leader of the
Second Marine Greater Battalion
based out of Camp Lejeune,
North Carolina.
On June 5, 2018,
I took a six-man team
on a special-purpose
extraction mission
to an opium factory
in the Nad-e Ali District
of the Helmand Province
in southwestern Afghanistan,
Go! Where intelligence
showed the hostage,
a professor from the American
University, was held.
Military operations by the Highlanders
of the First Marine Division
earlier in the night
softened the target.
There was still resistance.
I put us on a tight clock.
Five minutes... in, out, done.
RPG!
As we got within 20 meters
of the enemy stronghold,
a combatant at the door
was alerted to our presence.
Staff Sergeant Paulson
and myself engaged.
Clear that door!
I pulled Staff Sergeant Paulson inside
the factory after he took enemy fire
and called for the team medic,
who began triage.
There were plastic sheets hanging
from the ceiling, obscuring the hall.
The mission for this covert operation
relied on aggressive action and speed.
Everyone on the force knew
personal security was a grave risk.
After the grenade went bang and
blew the fuck out of everything,
I called out, trying to pinpoint
the location of the hostage.
Johnson and Razor provided
backup and engaged the enemy.
After locating the hostage,
the team cleared the room,
making sure everything was safe,
and we escorted Professor Byers
to the extraction site.
Down! Man down!
Move! Move! Move!
Let's get him out!
We triaged the hostage in the 30-minute
flight back to Bagram Airfield.
He was declared deceased
upon arrival,
along with Staff Sergeant
Steven Paulson.
- Tough mission.
- Yes, sir.
Staff Sergeant Paulson paid
the ultimate sacrifice.
And you, Gunny?
What price did you pay?
All good, sir.
We've been fighting
this war for 18 years.
You've infilled and exfilled
out of more special operations
missions than seems fair.
You've sacrificed a lot
for your country.
Hell, the Marine Corps is running out
of combat-action ribbons to give you.
You're five months away from your
20-year retirement threshold.
Get your dick out of the dirt
and get home.
And do what, exactly, sir?
Bag groceries at Kroger?
Work the plumbing aisle
at Home Depot?
You're a hell
of a MARSOC operative.
Probably the best small-unit
tactician I've ever had.
Special Warfare Operations is paying
decent money for guys like you.
I can make a few phone calls.
I didn't sign up for money, sir.
That's the wrong metric
to measure what we do.
I'll stick it out.
Okay, Gunny. All right.
I'm sending you and your team
on an exfil training mission
with the Israeli Air Force,
Commando Unit 5101.
Shaldag?
That's right.
Golan Heights, Israel.
Are you rotating me out, sir?
Gunny, you've got
five months left.
Go easy.
Get out of this war alive.
As the world's attention
seems to shift away from Afghanistan
to another Middle Eastern
hot spot, Syria,
where bloody civil war
has been raging for seven years.
The United
Nations Human Rights Office
estimates nearly
5000,000 people have died
since the conflict began.
Experts say
the death toll has created
a humanitarian catastrophe
the world is struggling...
Israel and Iran stare each
other down across the expanse of Syria...
So here is
my message to the rulers of Iran:
Your plan to destroy Israel
will fail.
Damascus claims
the Syrian air defenses
were successful in intercepting
hostile Israeli missiles.
Israel will do
whatever it must do
to defend our state
and to defend our people.
Israel's Iron Dome intercepted
all but a few of the enemy rockets.
Experts believe Iranian-backed Shia
Islamist militias are behind the attack.
As many parts
of the Syrian Golan Heights
close to the Israeli
armistice lines have fallen
under pro-Assad control,
with the Golan Freedom Brigade
having the strongest presence
in the area.
Come inside, baby.
It's the last night
of our vacation.
Give me another minute.
One more minute. One minute.
And it's a fly!
And it is out of here!
That's his 27th home run...
Everything okay, baby?
Yeah. Everything's fine.
Go back to sleep.
It's nothing big.
Don't lie to me.
I'm not lying to you.
I'll meet you for lunch.
I'll be in Tel Aviv.
The flight leaves Eilat
at 8:00 a.m. tomorrow.
Then... I'll meet you
for lunch in Tel Aviv.
Make love to me.
Baby, I can't.
I don't have time.
That never stopped you before.
Come on. You can't resist me.
Stop trying.
You know I can't resist you.
I love you so much.
There is no military
strategy on how to deal
with the influence
of Iran and Russia.
I think diplomacy will fail.
Assad, for all political
purposes, has won the civil war.
Damascus will fall into the
hands of Moscow and the Iranians,
which will be a total nightmare
for the Jewish state
and, by proxy,
the United States.
We have to prevent this
at all costs.
Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have to catch
the last couple innings
of the Red Sox-Yankees game.
Senator, it's your son.
- Ronan?
- What's up, old man?
I'm doing good.
It's great to hear from you, Son.
It's late there.
Is everything okay?
Everything's perfect.
I'm just checking in.
You see
the Yankees-Red Sox game?
Oh, don't tell me what happened.
I got it on my DVR.
- So are you cycling?
- Always. Always, Dad.
I miss our summer rides.
Well, you'll be here in a week,
and I just happen to have a bike
tuned up and waiting for you.
I'm looking forward to it. You gonna
be able to make some time for me?
I don't know.
Avigail wants to sit and talk politics
with you at the kitchen table.
Listen, that's kind of
why I'm calling.
Dad...
you're gonna be a grandpa.
No shit?
No shit.
Wow. That means I'm getting old.
You are old. Deal with it.
Go fuck yourself.
I love you too.
How's the new wife?
I know. She's too young for me.
She's not too young, Dad,
she's too pretty for you.
Did you know it was, uh,
five years ago today
we buried Mom?
Yeah. Yeah, I know.
She lived a good life, right?
Better than most.
She would be
really proud of you, Son.
Mookie Betts smashes
a hanging curve ball
to hit a three-run homer
in the ninth to win it.
I love you, Dad!
Hey. Dave Torres.
Welcome to Israel. Follow me.
Damn, it's hot
as balls out here.
Yeah, well, you know what they say...
from the frying pan to the fire.
That's not what they say. They say,
"Out of the frying pan, into the fire."
Oh, is that what they say?
Well, that's not what I say.
- What the hell is this place?
- I can tell you what it ain't. It ain't the Four Seasons.
It's an old Syrian camp
from the Six-Day War.
For us, it's out
rendezvous point.
The chopper will be here
at 0700.
That's in 62 minutes.
I thought it was just a training exercise.
Yes, it is, but the IDF
wants us to jump right in.
"Train like you fight."
That is a credo of yours, right?
Where's our gear?
Let's find some shade
and gear up.
You know,
in all this hurry, I...
I didn't catch your name.
I didn't give it.
So, Johnson... We're not gonna
do this again, are we, Bene?
We are, we are. We're gonna do it
until I can wrap my brain around it.
So Dad's a politician
with serious swagger.
Self-made. Catholic and proud.
Mom's a mom. A good Jewish mom.
Great Jewish mom.
Great. A Jew and a Catholic?
Fuck me.
I know. Crazy, right?
The guilt trips
must've been off the charts.
I guess Mom had
to be a frickin' 12
to get the attention of our
rich blue blood from Boston.
So, uh...
Mom meets Dad,
Dad dips his wick
in the Galilee, and...
- We're gonna do this? Really?
- Along comes you.
Silver spoon.
Private school. Limousine.
And I'm sure you banged
your share of the sweet
Ivy League pussy on your way to
graduating cum laude from MIT.
That's magna cum laude.
"Magna cum-for-brains"
is more like it.
Who gives all that up
to make Aliyah
and fly jets for Israel.
It's just the law
of return, right?
Over a Sabra girl?
You know what?
She is a good girl.
Good. Good girl.
She must feed you
as good as she fucks you.
No. No, man.
See, that's the thing.
She feeds me
better than she fucks me.
All this talk of your smoking-hot mom
and perfect wife is giving me a hard-on.
You want to talk about my mom?
Oh, yeah.
Don't do it. You hear me?
Over the top! Over the top!
Do you want to fly
my stick today?
Hey, Gunny, I thought this was
meant to be a cushy training gig.
What the fuck, boss?
Surely we're too good
for this "two weeks in the shit,
prep us for war" stuff.
Training never ends,
Sergeant Fuckface.
- That's what I thought you'd say. Thank you.
- I was looking forward to
chasing some grade-A ass
out there in Tel Aviv!
I heard them Israeli girls,
they love them a little bit of
chocolate, you know what I'm sayin'?
Johnson, you're so fucking pretty,
all the Israeli girls are gonna love you.
And their fucking brothers too.
Hey, I'm pretty and proud,
motherfucker!
Ooh, la, la, la, la, la, la.
Hey, Reza, how many languages
you speak now?
Let me see. Uh, English, Arabic,
Farsi, Kurdish, French,
and a little Pashto.
Oh, you don't speak Spanish?
Nah. But my cock does.
Okay, that's a good thing, huh?
Hey, Gunny, what'd he say?
He call me fuckface? Sarge!
Sarge, what'd he say?
Did he call me fuckface?
You are a fuckface.
Hey, Johnson,
I'll fuck your face.
Your face is so fucking pretty,
I'd fuck it in the night, I'd fuck it in
the morning, I'd fuck it at dinnertime.
I wake up in the morning,
I'd fuck it again. I'd flip your face over
and shave it, put a beard back
on, then I'll fuck it again.
I would love to see that, man.
- Hello?
- Hey, Bella.
- Dad.
- Yeah, it's me, baby.
I always know it's you.
You're the only one
that calls the wall phone.
I have a cell, you know.
Well, this is the only number I
have programmed on my phone, babe.
Are you almost done over there?
Yeah. Almost.
You know, you've...
been there...
like, my whole life.
I know, baby.
Only five more months.
Then I'm done.
You're missing
my birthday again.
I'll make it up to you.
We'll celebrate when I get back.
It's always when you get back.
I'm sorry, baby.
You're coming home for good
this time, right?
Yeah. For good.
Promise?
I promise.
Be good, baby.
Te amo, Pap.
I love you too, baby.
Who the fuck
are these knuckleheads?
They're one, two,
three and four.
- Oh, yeah? What do we call you?
- Five.
Exactly. When diplomacy fails
and my government
doesn't want to start a war,
the call lands at my feet,
and we get activated.
Our names and ranks...
Not important.
- Skull and Bones type of stuff?
- Yes, of course.
Is this your game,
Major Brodetsky?
Yeah, I know your fucking name.
And the no-names sitting across from us.
Melaku, an Ethiopian Jew
from Beta.
Sharhabi, a veteran of the
West Bank and Gaza Strip,
and son of a restaurant owner
from Haifa.
Pardo, your newest recruit
and a Penn State grad,
working on a start-up
in his spare time.
And Brener, the blondest
of the no-names,
an Ashkenazi kibbutznik
from Degania Bret.
Yeah, I know something
about them too.
I'm not gonna bore you
with their ranks though.
Secrecy is an ethos.
Our names, like God's,
are not to be spoken.
It's our way.
You think you're hot shit,
don't you?
Well, let me tell you,
we're pretty good too.
Fuck, yeah.
Now, are you ready
to hit the road?
Or are you gonna play
"big dick, bigger dick"?
This is a game you'll lose.
You know what?
I like you.
Call me Asaf.
- Nah. I like Five better.
- So do I, bro.
Let's go.
Let's show these motherfuckers how
the Second Marine Raiders do things.
- Boorah!
- Boorah!
Shepard One, activate
electronic counter-measures
and re-route to 130.
Change attack heading
from the east.
Roger that, Command.
Transmitting flight coordinates
for your on board computer now.
All right, let's start dancing.
Let's take her up.
Ascending to 14,000 feet.
Going live. Shepard One has reached
strike altitude and received coordinates.
Missiles ready
to prosecute targets.
Cleared for strike.
Target's dead. Target's dead.
Good job, Shepard One.
Get your ass out of there.
Roger that. Shepard One
pushing back at low altitude.
S-200 surface-to-air missile.
Shepard One,
we have an inbound SAM.
090 at 25 miles.
Get the hell out of there
and take counter-measures now.
Jesus Christ. Missile in the air.
We're painted.
Heads up. Get your eyeballs
out of your assholes.
Look for it!
Single missile!
Tracking on it! Find it!
Descend and keep on braking.
Roll left. I repeat, roll left.
Roll left!
- Does it have a good lock?
- Damn right it does. SAM's got us eyeball to asshole.
COMING IN AT 5:00 and closing.
Back over!
Scootch over and roll right!
Break left!
Break right!
We can't shake it!
We can't shake it!
Roll left! Roll left!
Break off. Ten seconds,
and it's on us.
Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!
Nose to the sky!
- Activate defensive program.
- Working on it.
Flares released.
- I'm hit!
- Shepard One is hit.
Shepard One, what is your status?
Over.
Shepard One is going down.
I repeat:
Shepard One is going down.
Benny? Benny, can you hear me?
Benny!
My WSO is not responding.
Shepard One, eject!
Eject, buddy!
Shepard One has ejected.
Richard Jackson.
My God.
What can you tell me? Be exact.
At approximately 0700
this morning,
Major Jackson's F16 was hit
by an anti-aircraft rocket
while on mission over Syria.
Lieutenant Nadav
is presumed dead
and went down with the plane.
Major Jackson ejected.
Have you located him?
Yes.
Major Jackson's ejector
seat beacon is active.
Did he survive?
- Can't confirm.
- "Can't confirm"?
He ejected at mach speed.
That's a lot of G forces
to put on a human body, General.
What can you confirm, exactly?
The drone-fed imagery tells us.
Major Jackson was alive at
the time he was taken captive.
By who?
For a targeting layer,
we don't have
a concrete data point.
Where exactly is Major Jackson?
The GPS on his flight vest
places him in southern Syria,
in the Daraa governate.
- It's a GFB stronghold.
- "GFB"?
Golan Freedom Brigade.
It's an Iranian-controlled
Shiite militia
fighting alongside
the Syrian Arab Army,
backing Damascus' bid
to take back the Golan Heights.
They are led by an extremist
who is known to us only
by the name of, uh, Alshabah.
- Alshabah?
- "The Ghost."
He's a real beauty, this guy.
We can't get
a clear picture of him
because his face
is covered with his, uh,
signature tactical shemagh,
GFB headband, and his
black mirrored sunglasses.
The legend he cultivates is,
if he lets you see his
eyes, you're dead.
His army is small
but loyal and brutal.
We pinpoint his location,
and then we lose him.
He stays in the shadows,
moves in the night.
He has a direct line to Assad,
Nasralleh and Rouhani,
and gets financing
from all three.
We think he had a hand
in the chemical attacks
at Aleppo and Ghouta.
- "Pay to slay."
- Yes.
He's 100 percent committed
to avoiding detection.
Can we get gunships in there
with an extraction unit?
He'd see us coming and kill Major
Jackson before we could get to him.
May I suggest a special ops
covert operation?
General Betz,
this is Neta Luria,
Israeli Intelligence.
- Mossad.
- Specializing in, uh,
covert operations
and counterterrorism.
We need to scramble
an extraction team.
We have a tight window before Major
Jackson winds up in Assad's hands...
Or worse yet, gets ferried over
to the streets of South Beirut.
What's the window?
Intelligence puts it
at 36 hours, max.
Thirty-six hours to...
Never seeing him alive.
We'll be negotiating
for a dead body.
This is Benghazi all over again.
I can't think of all
the ways this is fucked!
Have you any idea what would
happen if Assad found out
he had the son of a United
States senator captive?
I'll scramble a team.
Marine Corps Special
Operations Command wants this.
- MARSOC?
- Due respect... he's one of ours.
He's the son of a US senator.
Yes, General Betz, I'm aware,
but Ronan Jackson made
Ailyah five years ago,
and he's now an Israeli.
- Law of return.
- Exactly.
Your senator's son
is one of us now.
The Second Marine Raiders
are on exfil exercises with
Shaldag in the Golan Heights.
I know. I signed the paperwork.
Well, I suggest we send them
into Daraa Province now.
An IDF-MARSOC joint op...
it's never been done.
There's a first time
for everything.
Shaldag is the best in the world
at this kind of work.
Due respect, we don't need
the Marine Corps' help.
Why do I get the feeling
when you say "due respect,"
I'm being talked to like I was
a cocktail waitress in Hooters?
I don't care if you think
you need the Marines or not.
The four stars
on this jacket say...
Second Marine Raiders
are on this op,
with or without Shaldag.
Due respect.
- What is it they call you?
- Sergeant Razor.
This is a nickname, yes?
Yeah. They call me Reza.
I gave him the nickname Razor
'cause he cuts through the bullshit
like a motherfucking razor.
Then they should
call you Sergeant Gillette.
- Oh. Funny guy.
- I want a nickname.
Malka.
Yo, what does Malka mean?
- Malka means "queen" in Hebrew.
- Dude! Dude!
"Queen" fucking rocks, man!
Whoa, whoa. Listen, listen.
There are three rules for nicknames.
One: It will be assigned to you.
You won't like that shit.
If you bitch
about rules one and two,
you're gonna get a nickname even
worse than the one you bitched about.
Hey.
The world just changed.
Changed how?
You and your combined units
are on Task Force Judah now.
Operation Get Back. Yes, sir.
You and these Second Marine
Raiders head out now.
It's a joint exfil op.
Insertion and extraction.
MOSSAD's going outside of the
fence on this one with you.
This is Neta Luria.
She will help you with the intel.
Consider yourself briefed.
There's no time to prep on
life-sized models of the target.
This is a time-sensitive
mission,
so we're sacrificing prep
for speed.
Yalla. Let's go.
Yalla.
- Let's go.
- We'll work all three operational spheres.
Getting to the destination,
working at the destination,
and returning home.
A Hermes 450-UAS is shadowing
us for the next 36 hours,
giving us real-time
snapshots of the battlefield.
What's the package?
An IDF fighter pilot downed
outside of Daraa prov in Syria.
Wait. This is a live op?
I don't show up for anything
that involves dum-dum bullets.
What are we
doing on this mission?
It's an Israeli pilot.
Makes it an Israeli problem.
The pilot's American-born.
Son of a US senator.
Listen, I've been
on these ops before.
Lots of them. They're all dicey as fuck.
I get that.
But I'm responsible for my guys,
and I lost one last time out,
so I'm asking, do you have any
concrete data where the package is?
Or is this a hunt-and-peck?
A little of both, Gunnery Sergeant.
That's the best I have
right now.
- What the fuck is this beast?
- On-field command post.
This shit looks like it was built by Lego.
So let me guess.
- This is your ride, right?
- Mm-hmm.
So you get all the
armor, And we go in...
with no doors, no windscreen?
Yeah. But you got the big guns.
Sergeant Namjoo,
your MARSA file says you're fluent
in Arabic in the Levantine dialect.
Yes, ma'am.
But you should hear my Spanish.
Inside joke.
You're riding
in the lead truck with me.
Suggest you remove
name tags and ranks.
This ain't our first time
swinging at the piata, lady.
What is the plan?
- Get to the border and hold for the intel.
- Okay.
You're a lead on this op, Five?
Yes, of course.
And if it was my call, you'd stay here.
This isn't your war.
We've got no choice.
Israel was born in war and
sustained by the threat of war.
This is between
the Israelis and Arabs.
Afghanistan, Iraq,
Bosnia, Horn of Africa...
None of them are my wars, but I've been
fighting them since I graduated high school.
How's that working out for you?
Hey, who's the T-shirt-wearing
motherfucker back there next to me?
No helmet on, minimum gear,
thousand-yard stare.
I mean, what is this,
fucking nursery school 101?
- Yeah, he's old-school on reserve.
- Does he talk?
Ask him how is it to be a Yemenite.
Maybe he will answer.
I told you, I'm Yemen
from the waist down only.
- That's a good thing?
- It's a very good thing.
Oh, you mean he's hung.
Something like that, yeah.
I guess that makes me
a Yemenite too, huh?
I fucking love Americans.
I got a hand cannon.
I'll show you later.
He's seen it. Johnson's seen it.
Any progress?
We pooled a team
of our best men.
That doesn't answer my question.
We think your son
is still alive, Senator,
but he was taken captive
by the Golan Freedom Brigade.
We think. Have they made contact?
Any demands?
Not yet.
All right, I need
a no-b.s. assessment.
How much time does my son have?
- Golan Heights, unsecured.
- Designator?
Judah 1-6. Switching.
"Get Back" is a go.
All coordinates and op details have
been relayed to your encrypted devices.
Exfiltration goes
through North Command.
We're gonna be on your push-to-talk
frequency from here on.
Hold until nightfall.
Good luck. Out.
He's been taken captive and
being held in al-Hrak, Syria.
How far on the other side
of the border fence?
We drive due east
from here about 45 minutes,
and we'll get to a building
on the outskirts of al-Hrak.
That's the short route.
The short route
is always dangerous.
North Command Control
is running this op.
Are we staging here?
They want us to shelter
in place until nightfall.
Too much enemy out there now.
What kind of enemy?
You know.
Joker. Dr. Doom. Magneto.
Oh. Oh, you got jokes.
Real funny guy.
You forgot Green Goblin.
Jabhat Al-Nusra, ISIS, SAA.
- The usual suspects.
- Night instead of day.
They'll be gunning for us on a night
run when they're pinned on speed.
- The Superman drug.
- Yeah. Got me through college.
Get in, grab the package,
get out, home for shakshouka.
Promise?
I want you to promise me.
I don't know what shakshouka is. I'm guessing
it's breakfast, and I love breakfast.
But I've spent a lot of time
down-range from these fuckers,
and getting back
is never so easy.
So let's focus on getting in.
F-16 pilot.
What is your squadron?
You didn't fly out of Hatzerim.
You cunt!
You lied to me.
What is your name?
Ronan Hollander.
747... 3458.
At least one of these names
is correct.
"To Ronan, with love. Dad.
Semper Fi."
Who is your father?
My father?
My father's name
is Roey Hollander.
What is your rank?
I'm a lieutenant.
I'm a second lieutenant.
Second lieutenant.
Ronan...
Your rank, or I will hurt you.
I'm a general.
You speak with
an American accent. Why?
What is your rank?
Lieutenant.
You're too old to be active.
Now, are you a reserve pilot?
No, I'm not too old.
A major, maybe?
Or a lieutenant colonel?
I've just graduated
from cadet school.
"To Ronan, with love, Dad.
Semper Fi"!
You will break.
Everyone breaks.
Good luck.
We sweep the first
hundred meters of the road.
IUDs, HIMs,
land lines, whatever.
Roger that. Let's get to it.
Let's go.
- You ready for this, Big Time?
- This is my American nickname?
That's right.
Why Big Time?
You're one motherfucking badass.
Big Time. I like it
better than Queen.
It's all yours, brother.
I hope it sticks.
- Why wouldn't it stick?
- Sometimes nicknames don't stick.
How would I know?
If Gunny uses it,
that means it stuck.
Are you married?
Yeah.
What is her name?
Noa.
Do you have any children?
We're expecting our first.
Thank you for that.
But you will never
see her again.
And you will never
see your child
come to life.
I am the last person
you will ever see.
It's just that...
you're wearing a mask.
Look at this face.
This is the face of war.
The war that will not end
until we see the end of Zionism.
Well...
good luck with that.
Wait a second. Wait a second.
Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Wait. Hey.
You're strong,
and you were trained.
I can respect that.
Your government,
with its Western allies,
poisoned the world against us.
The world order must be reset.
My government will not
negotiate with you.
But they will come for you.
You're like a candle
whose only purpose
is to burn out
and to be extinguished
to shed light for the
benefit of others.
That is the only reason
you were sent to me.
You can have your fun.
You can break me,
but you're not gonna fucking win!
Who... is... Dad?
Wait here.
Hello, Avigail.
Senator Jackson.
Come in.
Do those casualty officers
have to stand outside the door?
They're here to keep you informed
and take care of your needs.
I need my husband back.
Can I get you
something to drink?
Sure.
Sweet tea, with ice and lemon.
Let me help you
with that, Avigail.
Here, here.
Let me help you with that.
I'm such a klutz.
Watch yourself.
Ronan teases me all the time.
We were just on vacation
last night.
Come here.
Hey, guys.
All clear. Let's get out...
Got a man down.
Contact. Unknown position.
We got a sniper at 11:00, but
I can't see the motherfucker.
Judah 1-6 to North Command.
We have a man down.
We have a man down. Over.
- You got eyes on him?
- We got to move, we got to move.
Cover fire! Cover fire!
- Anyone got eyes on the shooter?
- Negative.
- Nothing on glass!
- Gunfire! Lieutenant...
Judah 1-6,
what's going on out there?
- It's Pardo.
- How's he doing, Razor?
- He's fucked up bad, sir.
- What's the status?
He's dead, sir. Pardo's dead.
Fuck!
I've got a goat herder,
700 meter, at my 11:00.
- You see him, Five?
- Positive. Got him on glass.
No shot! Shooter's out of range!
Cover fire!
We've got to get closer!
Let's go!
Fuck!
We're still not close enough.
We're close enough.
No plan survives first contact.
There is no perfect version
of this kind of operation.
We haven't met. Ellis R. Betz,
commanding general,
US Military Central Command.
Abiram Yairi,
major general, North Command.
That's Lieutenant Colonel Mizrah
from Unit 5101 out of
Palmachim Air Base.
Our comms team activated the cruise
systems and jammed the cell towers
and pinged every cell signal in
the area surrounding the sniper.
Did they pick up
any radio chatter,
cell phone traffic? No.
Mission is definitely
compromised.
Do we send 'em or not?
Well, I can't speak
for the Shaldag,
but I can for my boys.
Send in the Raiders.
Yes, sir. Copy that.
North Command Control
wants us to leave him here.
The team is a minute out to pick
up the body and close the gate.
Mission Get Back is in effect.
Load 'em up.
Hey.
You okay?
Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay.
How far along are you?
Twelve weeks.
Do you know
if it's a boy or a girl?
A boy.
I wasn't really there for him
as a young man.
Ronan is the strongest,
most beautiful man I've ever known.
He got that from some place.
Tell me!
Who... is... Dad?
You take a lot of notes,
Gunnery Sergeant.
Yeah. Helps to clear my head
from all the noise.
- What are you writing?
- It's a note to my daughter.
- How old?
- Sixteen tomorrow.
I drove my father crazy
when I was 16.
- Tough age.
- Yeah, that's what I hear.
We're on foot from here.
Johnson, Malaku, over-watch.
We'll search in teams of three.
Man, woman, child,
everyone is here to kill us.
Use your discretion.
Assemble on me.
Switch your helmet cams on
and your safeties off.
Switching on helmet cam.
Rolling live.
Go, go, go!
Switch on your white light.
Go!
North Command, we've got breach.
Clear.
They're on the right.
Got hostiles coming
at our two, Big Time.
You are not cleared hot.
I repeat,
you are not cleared hot.
Copy that. Holding scope.
Strike team has breached,
and we are moving towards the package.
SAA soldiers
are gathering to your east.
- Can you buy us some time?
- Not without getting in a gunfight.
Do what you can, 1-6.
Clear.
Fuck!
- It's like a fucking maze in here.
- Same shit, different day.
You should split.
Spread the risk.
Torres...
Sharhabi, Brener.
All right.
Ask him where the pilot is.
Door. Right.
Clear.
Sharhabi, stay on the door.
Brener, come with me.
1-6, we've reached the package.
- Is he alive?
- Checking.
Hey, Jackson?
Hey, Ronan Jackson?
We need a positive ID.
North Command needs positive ID.
Roger that. Working on the ID.
Hey, Jackson.
1-7, this is 1-6.
What's your status?
I repeat,
what's your status? Over.
Razor, check him out.
Hey, now, you okay?
Sharhabi, look at me.
Are you okay?
Jesus! Fucking nails.
Oh, fuck.
1-6, this is 1-8.
- Brodetsky and Brener are dead. Over.
- Get out of there now, 1-8.
This was an ambush.
We'll pick you up at the main entrance.
Let's get these guys
out of here.
What a fucking mess.
You fucking idiot.
Let's stay on mission.
- You want me to pull them?
- I'll tell you what I want.
I want your blue team to get me a
precise location for our fucking pilot!
Fuck!
Razor, cover fire!
- Hell of a thing we do, huh, buddy?
- Yeah.
Come on!
- Gunny, status? Over.
- All good.
Run like a motherfucker!
RPG! Get down!
Benedetti? Johnson, cover me!
Let's get him the hell
out of here, now!
Go! Let's go!
Hey, fuckface.
Hey, Gunny,
tell my wife I'll be okay.
- We need to get the hell out of here!
- Go!
Go, go, go!
Senator Jackson.
Okay.
Thank you.
Now what?
They regroup,
and they go back in.
Try to get some sleep, Avigail.
I need to get out.
Let's take a drive.
Ronan Jackson.
MIT graduate.
Impressive.
Very impressive.
Son of Senator Richard Jackson.
Ah, fuck.
My boss would like to meet you.
Why are we stopping here?
I have an asset nearby.
What kind of asset?
- Syrian Druze.
- Did you make him?
Make her. Yes.
She's been vetted and banked.
Johnson, stay on the door.
Ask her where the package is.
I speak English.
Please tell him to come inside.
If they're watching,
they will know we have talked.
- Who will know?
- We share the same enemy.
It would please me
if you do as I say.
Invite him to come inside,
please.
Johnson.
So, you look for
the Israeli pilot.
- We do.
- Alshabah took him captive.
- Where is he being held.
- You know where he's not being held, I'm sure.
Listen, I'm not here to
fucking play games with you.
Neta's vouched for you, but I've got three
dead friends in the back of my truck.
That's what I have.
Now tell me where the fuck he is.
You think you're the first
man to put a gun into my face?
I always come
with a flower in my hand,
but I have a big fucking Colt
.45 if the flower doesn't work.
- Where the fuck is he?
- Easy, 1-8.
I'll take care of this.
Your pilot is on his way to South
Beirut, I'm afraid.
Alshabah will present him
to the security general,
- who will order his execution.
- When did he leave?
Just now.
Mm, ten minutes ago.
Last week.
What difference does it make?
You won't catch him.
He's a ghost.
He spent eight years in this war,
and still no one can catch him.
And if we could?
Then you take the M-5
towards Damascus
until you hit Al-Kiswah.
Alshabah will avoid Damascus.
He will take an alternate road.
That turns his three-hour drive
into a seven-hour drive.
That works to our advantage.
Yes. You're already way behind.
Where is this alternate route?
It's a smuggler run between
Jdaydet Artooz and Darayya,
on the border of Lebanon.
- The Heroin Highway.
- How do you know this?
The information's
floating around out there.
Easy.
You just have to know
how to sweep it up.
If your plan is to
intercept his convoy,
I suggest you acquire
more serious weapons
than those M4s.
I can map
the coordinates for you...
if you please.
Judah 1-6.
We're looking for a convoy
that left al-Hrak
about 30 minutes ago.
Our Mossad asset puts
our pilot in that convoy.
- Go to infrared.
- Switching to thermal.
Do we have any idea where he is
in that convoy? Which vehicle?
We can eliminate pickup trucks
without crew cabs.
Five out of the seven.
This is North Command
to Judah 1-6.
This is Judah 1-6.
Send your traffic. Over.
Continue eastbound
140 klicks and reroute
to the coordinates that we've
sent to your on board computer.
You're picking up time,
and you should be able
to head them off at the
designated choke point.
Roger that, North Command. Out.
This was Ronan's favorite place.
He came here with his mother.
I've been to Israel a
dozen times over the years,
for diplomacy and business.
Never a personal visit.
I've never been here
with my son.
North Command,
this is Judah 1-6.
We've reached the choke point.
Holding for enemy convoy intercept.
Roger that, 1-6.
The enemy convoy is
approximately ten minutes out.
From here until contact,
we're going silent.
We aren't the only ones
listening to comms. Over.
Roger that, North Command. Out.
Is it Monday?
All day, Gunny.
Which way is the shit rolling?
Downhill, towards that road.
Hell of a thing we do, huh?
So how do we do this?
How many vehicles in the convoy.
North Command says
they're rolling with seven.
What's their big gun?
Twenty-three millimeter
anti-aircraft auto cannon.
ZU-23. Fucking Soviets.
It's mounted on a Nissan.
- Where's the package?
- Exactly which truck it's in, I'm confirming now.
They don't know? They've narrowed it
down to the third or fifth vehicle:
The Kia K2700
and the Mitsubishi crew cab.
He's definitely not in
the lead or the rear. No.
You sure about that?
It would be a tactical mistake.
I think they're
better than that.
Okay.
We need to take out
the lead vehicle first.
Next up is the Nissan
with the ZU-23.
In the shit show that immediately
follows, we'll set up
an assault perimeter
and blast the hell out of them.
Johnson, you and Melaku
stay with machine guns
and put some lead
into their engine blocks.
We want them crippled.
Reza and Sharhabi, you advance with me.
We find our pilot
and collapse back.
- How do we get out?
- Same way we got in... we drive.
- What's our big gun, sir?
- The Hermes 450
you got chasing us at
17,000 feet... is it armed?
- It is.
- Hellfire missiles, huh?
RAFAEL fire-and-forget
anti-tank missiles.
That'll do. I'm guessing there's
a couple under wing, right?
- Good guess.
- Okay, yeah. That big enough for you, Big Time?
Fuck, that's strong!
Of course.
It'll put hair on your balls.
Listen, brother, I don't think anybody
wants hair on their balls anymore.
I like hair on my balls.
Hey.
Mind if I use the sat phone?
Thanks.
Convoy's in zone.
Hey, Dad?
Dad?
Okay, what do we got?
Seven klicks out.
All right. Max out your ammo.
We go in five.
Drone Flight Control is
sourcing targets now, sir.
Assault Unit Get Back,
two klicks from contact.
Targets are green.
Cover fire! I'm going in!
I'm moving in! Cover me!
Second technical clear.
Moving to target vehicle.
- Hey, 1-9, you got any 40-mike-mike?
- As a matter of fact, I do!
- Light up technical number six for me, will you?
- You got it!
This is Judah 1-8.
Technical four is empty.
Moving to technical five now.
How you doing, buddy?
Fuckin' Mondays.
I'll be back.
Where is he?
This is 1-8.
Hostiles down,
and we don't have the package.
I repeat,
hostiles are down,
and we don't have the package.
I repeat,
we don't have the package.
Got him! We got him!
Got him! We got him!
Major Jackson.
Major Jackson.
Serial number... 0355... 781.
That's our pilot!
That's our pilot!
Identity confirmed!
Load him up
and get him out of here.
I'll catch up with you
in a minute.
- Get him?
- Yeah. We got him.
- Let's go. Let's go!
- How are you feeling?
Like cold shit.
Well, the good news is,
you're gonna have a combat
scar to hit on the ladies.
What's the bad news?
You're still ugly as fuck,
and this is gonna hurt like hell.
Let's get you out of here.
We got it.
Torres is hit! We got a sniper!
Where the fuck is he?
Somebody give me a target!
Where did the fire come from?
12:00! Cover fire!
12:00! 12:00!
- 12:00! 12:00!
- Shit! Where the fuck did that come from?
Cover me!
Torres is hit.
I repeat, Torres is hit.
Let's get him out of here!
Let's go! Come on!
What the fuck just happened?
They've got him.
They said I'd find you here.
Just, uh...
I wanted to say thank you.
Don't thank me.
Thank them.
They say Gunnery Sergeant Torres
was a hell of a Marine.
Yeah, he was.
A hell of a man too.
It's a big sacrifice.
Five lives given
for one in return.
That was the job.
If asked, we'll do it again.
Bella,
I know I've broken many promises
and missed so much of your life.
For this, I'm sorry.
You're certainly the best
thing I've ever done,
and my birthday wish for you
is a simple one.
Always treat your mother
with kindness and respect,
and know that
you never leave my mind.
You're smart and good,
and you will do well at life.
I'll be home soon to make up
for all those missed birthdays.
I love you. Dad.