Camp X-Ray

Get in there!

Spyglass, this is cobra one.

Open bravo South. Over.

You bitches!

You bad man!

You got to shoot them in the head!

You torture me... I torture you!

12-hour rotations.

Suicide watch every 3 minutes.

Do not let that repetition

lower your guard.

That's exactly what these

guys are looking for.

You got to remember...

some of these dudes have been

locked up in here for eight years.

They've been in here before some

of you were even in high school.

They know the procedure better than you do.

They will test you, and they will best you.

And make no mistake about it...

this is a war zone.

Now, they ain't using roadside bombs,

and we're not using F-16s.

This is still a war zone.

Now... Some of you might think you're

here to prevent them from leaving.

You're not.

The walls do that for us.

You are here to prevent them from dying.

Yes?

Uh, how often do we move the prisoners?

- Detainees.

- What?

You will refer to them as "detainees."

You will not call them "prisoners."

You all got that?

No exceptions.

De-tai-nees.

Why can't we call them prisoners?

Prisoners are subject to the Geneva

convention... detainees are not.

Rec yard is right down there.

Showers are right beside 'em.

Unless they're going to medical,

being transferred... that's it.

That's their world.

Is that door shut?

Good.

This... this is your world.

No detainees back here.

On your right, gun Sally.

Remember, on the walk,

the only weapon you have is your radio.

Don't be afraid to use it.

Over here, this is our security

command or observation...

our eyes and ears on the whole block.

So if you find yourself going up

against an uncooperative detainee,

remember you're being watched.

Last but not least, the mess hall.

Like most places on earth, the chicken

fingers are the only thing worth eating.

Hard to f*ck those up.

And don't bother telling me the coke's flat

'cause I already fucking know.

Echo one, cobra one, Charlie Bronson.

I'll say again.

- Hold on... the natives is getting restless.

- Over.

Roger, echo one.

Charlie Bronson, echo one.

Oscar Mike, over.

"Charlie Bronson's" our brevity code

for an Irf... that's initial reaction force.

It's a four-man team called in when

shit hits the fan on the walk.

Anybody feel like getting their feet wet?

Listen. All you need to worry

about is his right hand, okay?

Each of us takes one.

Leg, leg, arm, head.

Don't worry about nothing else.

You just keep your eye on his right hand,

and you gain control of it... got it?

Roger.

And stay behind me.

Let us get the rest of him under control.

Hold up. Hold up.

- No names on the block.

- Yeah.

- Okay?

- Yeah.

You can talk to 'em, but do not let

these guys know anything about you.

Do not let them get inside your head.

You got it?

Yeah.

All right, grab our shields.

Let's go.

Spyglass, pop 1-9.

Stay tight.

- Stay tight, all right?

- We got this.

Detainee, get back!

Get back, detainee!

Get back!

Get him pinned up.

Let's go.

Go!

Come on.

Private, give me those cuffs!

Shit!

Get your ass down!

Ohh!

You piece of shit!

Get his arm back!

Get him on...

Get down, you piece of shit!

Get his other hand.

Get the f*ck up.

Out of here... get him out of here.

That's it... get down.

All right, pull that strap down.

You want his hand all the way secure.

Make it as tight as you can.

Check his waist.

Check the belt around his waist.

Check that side.

We don't want this guy

going anywhere on us.

Let's roll him out.

Welcome to gitmo.

Oh, Jackson, did you

copy those DVDs for me?

And when exactly was I supposed to do that?

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