Tank 432

Synopsis: With nowhere else to hide, a group of mercenaries and their two prisoners take cover inside a long abandoned Bulldog tank. But, while they try to keep the forces outside at bay, the real enemy is already among them, locked inside the 'Belly of the Bulldog'.
88 min


Oh, Jesus!

- Where the f*** have you been?

- Did they see you?

Of course they didn't

f***ing see me.

Are you okay?

Yeah. I'm hungry. Tired.

- You look like sh*t.

- These f***ing things.

Okay, we have to go.

Alright, go.


for f***'s sake, hurry up!

Hurry up, Karlsson!

Give me that f***ing needle.


Oh, f***!

Go on.

- Nearly there, nearly there.

- Come on. Hurry up!

It's Capper.

Gonna get you some

painkillers in a second.

- Shut your whining.

- Come on, please.

- Who are these people?

- Come on.

What the f***

are they doing here?


How many did you see, Reeves?

I just heard them.


Around 20, maybe more.

Sounded like

an armored vehicle, too.

Alright, so in short,

we don't want to run into

those f***ers again, eh?

- Ahh.

- How's he doing?

I'm no expert,

looks like he hurt his leg.

Oh, please, hurry up.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

What did you see, Capper?

F*** you.

Your f***ing ma.

My money's on the fact

that Evans left his brain

in that forest,

and it was friendly fire.

- Oh, come on. Ah..

- For f***'s sake!

Oh. Argh. F***.

Come on.

Oh, f***.

Think they're going

to follow us?

I think so.

I reckon they're heading north.

Oh, well. Either way,

we can't stay here.

- Karlsson?

- We can't move him far.

- Oh, that's f***ed.

- Stick him.

F***'s sake.

- Okay.

- Take your f***ing medicine.



F*** it.

F*** it!

Ah, man of the moment, Evans.

Take a knee, son.

Alright, before you get

your head blown off

did you find anything?

Evans, did you find transport?

Evans? Did you find anything?

Jeep, unlocked,

- some building south.

- Great!

Karlsson, Gantz, you've got

what's left of Mr. Capper.

Reeves, you're on point,

Evans, you're our tail gunner.

Go on, take up the rear. Up.


- Right.

- I always get the sh*t jobs.

- Reeves, on point now. Go.

- Are you alright, mate?

No, it's my fault.

I froze. I f***ed it. I could

hear them, and I f***ed it.

Shut up, Evans,

get a f***ing shift on.

It's my fault.

Are you ready? Move. Quiet.



Reeves, what do you see?

It looks like an old farm.

- Any sign of movement?

- It looks pretty deserted.

F*** this gung-ho sh*t.

What do you reckon?

We've got the cargo,

we wait for Reeves

to give us the all-clear.

I found a Jeep.

Reeves? Reeves?

Yeah, I can hear a genny.

- Evans, let's get Capper up.

- I cannot go there.

Evans, you've not had

the best start

to this operation.

Let's not f*** it up anymore.

Now, suck it in, remember your

training, and get on with it.


He's getting sick, boss.

For f***'s sake.

Right, we'll take that sign

of Reeves as the all-clear.

Gantz? Off you go.

- You, up, up.

- Karlsson, help Evans. Go!

Up. Move. Move.

Reeves, you f***ing rookie.

I remember

my first drink, Reeves.


Move. Move.

Get over here, against the wall.

Not as fit

as you used to be, huh?

I'm fine.

Let me have a little look.

No, no, I'm fine.

Let me.

Do not move.

Evans, stick Capper

on the back of the Jeep, eh?

Okay, okay, okay..

Karlsson, any day you're ready.

Don't touch, I'm fine.

- Have you any water?

- Yeah, do you not?

- No. I'm out.

- You drunk it already?

Yeah. Here.

Secure the area, Mr. Gantz.

When you're ready, Karlsson.

Yo, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

That's rationed.

- Okay?

- Yeah.



f***ing hurry up, please.

Evans, now you've stuck him

in the back

go and try and start the thing.

Give me another f***in' jab

'cause it's startin'

to wear off.

Do I have to tell you


I'm gonna give you one more.

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hurry, hurry, hurry, hurry.


Come on, Evans.

Alright, mate, alright.

Alright, alright.

- Karlsson, quieten him down.

- No!

Okay. Move over, quick.

Look at.. Look at me, you're

okay. Look at me. You're okay.

- No.

- Calm down, you're okay.

- It's f***..

- You're okay.

Come in, Smith.

Go for Smith.

This f***ing warehouse

is full of bodies.

- What?

- I think it's D group.

- How many?

- I don't know.

- I can't tell.

- Understood.

Check them for dog tags,

any identifying marks.

Evans, look at me, look at me.

Let me have a look.

There you are now, now,

you're grand, you're grand.

Look at me, look at me.

Look at me.

Come on, get it together.

Look at me.


Stay there.

- It's not good.

- Oh, really, Mr. Gantz?

Your subject the bleedin'

obvious, is it?


this is what we're gonna do.

Karlsson, you're gonna hold

Mr. Evans' hand

until he returns

to the land of the living.

Reeves, you're going to keep

your stomach contents intact

for the next five minutes,

grow a pair of clackers

and accompany Mr. Gantz

to find another way

out of this sh*t sty.

Now move it!

Good man, good man,

I'm gonna give you an injection

you're gonna calm down.

Karlsson, shut him up.

- There you are.

- Jesus Christ.

I'd be better

with a platoon of monkeys!

Yeah, come here, look at me.

Keep it breathing.

Keep it calm.

Looks like D team.

How can you tell?

Smith used to run a P&C

out of Fallujah.

Used to call these d*ckheads

the ZZ Top Brigade.

These lads were

at the top of the game.

They did jobs in the circuit

for years.

All mercs.

Careful how you use

that word now, Mr. Reeves.

Well, we're hardly

soldiers of fortune, are we?

I'd recognize these wankers

even without their heads.

Two hostages.

You can f***ing count.

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Nick Gillespie

Nicholas John Gillespie (; born August 7, 1963) is an American libertarian journalist who was former editor-in-chief of Reason magazine from 2000 to 2008. He is currently a contributing editor of Reason.com and the editor-in-chief at Reason.tv. He has written articles or been a commentator for a variety of media outlets. Gillespie has edited one anthology, Choice: The Best of Reason, and co-authored one book, The Declaration of Independents. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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