Neil Stryker and The Tyrant of Time Page #5

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- Sh*t.

- Five, four...

- Open the f***ing door!

- ...Three, two, one.

Goodbye.

I've gotta get that fixed.

Welcome, captain stryker.

One new message.

You f***ing nuked me.

Incoming call.

Commander Fred.

Stryker, what the f***

are you doin, okay?

We gotta get goin' here.

The last thing I want

is for mad scientist

to anticipate our next move.

Now listen,

I've assembled a team for you

and they're waiting right now.

Fred, you make me sick.

Why?

Listen, if you wanna cut

payroll just lay the guys off.

We wanna give you

all the help we can.

If you need them, fine.

If you don't need them,

i don't give a fudge

what you do with 'em.

As long as you

don't get caught.

Good.

Because if I had to spend

all my time babysitting

a bunch of a**holes...

Beretta.

...i might not accomplish

a damn thing.

Okay, perfect.

So, everybody's waiting for you

in sector seven.

And please, stryker,

go easy on the guys, would ya?

It's the least I could do

considering these guys

probably won't survive.

Cartridge empty.

I assume there's

a mission report

you'll want me to read?

No mission report on this one.

Off the books, baby.

Technically,

you're on suspension.

Okay, so...

Stay out of the admiral's way,

because if you get caught

it's your ass...

...and mine.

I'll be careful.

What I need

from you right now...

...is a cup of coffee.

Not that crap

out of the vending machine.

The good coffee like captain

Gomez keeps in his office

under lock and key.

It's a secure office.

You're going

to have to sneak in.

- I can do that.

- Good.

Half a teaspoon

of unfiltered honey.

Stirred left. No cream.

Hop to it!

Yes, sir!

Oh, man!

Johnson!

- Yes, sir?

- Come here.

- Yes, sir!

Stand here like an idiot.

That's an order.

Yes, sir!

Stryker!

Just what do you th--

admiral...

Sir!

It is an honor.

Clean out your desk.

You're fired.

Hold it, soldier.

Lose the glasses

you look like an idiot.

Man, f*** you.

Ham-sandwich-eatin'

mother f***er.

So, your telling me

some madman

is responsible for

causing all this havoc?

I'm telling you

a mad scientist and his Minion

just laid waste to the city.

Worse than this.

He is like lovechild

of Stalin and Hitler.

Yeah, and it can

get messy in there.

There's wolves, mines,

booby traps, barbed wire.

You might want

to cut that hair.

I can help you with that.

I could probably use a trim

good afternoon, gentlemen.

I'm going to get

straight to the point.

This is a suicide mission.

If it were up to me,

you boys wouldn't even be here.

But it's not.

The admiral knows

nothing about it.

We have no support

from headquarters.

Once we leave,

communication is severed

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