The Objective Page #2

---

where he wanted to be buried,

But it's too late now.

He was kidnapped by the Taliban

last year. I fear he's dead now.

How did you know this?

What'd he say?

I think he can help us.

You have up to 0300, then we're

moving out for extraction.

- I have to make a call.

- Cole, the sat-phone.

- I have my own.

- Got his own.

- F***in' James Bond.

- You know James Bond?

Yeah, I know James Bind.

He washed out of basic training.

I told headquarters

I was moving on to phase two.

They told me

that our footprint was fading.

That's what they called the heat

trace that was seen by the satellite.

Chief.

- Good way to get killed.

- We need to talk. A change of plan.

This had better be good!

I have new orders to continue

searching for Aban...

now that we have updated intel

on his whereabouts.

Intel? What, that crap

Obi-Wan told us?

We suspected that Aban was in the mountains

by now... We had to check here first.

We're talking two days, three max. All we

need to do is get our hands on a vehicle.

Well, excuse me if I wanna

check with the TOC...

Little does he know,

we don't have much of a choice.

Man, there's no place

to sh*t around here.

Any of you guys

got any more chocolate?

- No man, I gave you all I had yesterday.

- I got some stale cigars.

- Hearts and minds, man.

- Whatever. Get in the truck.

Sorry, kids.

What's he doing here?

- He offered to be our guide.

- We have a full boat.

Someone who knows the area can

get us in and out much faster.

I understand that, but this

place is crawling with bad guys.

Any time we gain, is gonna be

lost by our having to babysit him.

I fought with my father.

I can take care of myself.

Good. You can feed him

your rations.

Go.

She is just my mother.

Keep going.

Where we're going,

technology means very little.

a multi-million dollar GPS obsolete,

as soon as you lose your connection

or your batteries go dead.

The stakes were too high

to take that chance.

Chief, I know that we have our orders, but

we are pretty f***in' exposed out here.

I don't like it any more than you do,

but I ain't the one in charge right now.

As far as we're concerned you are.

Everything looks the same

to me out here.

At least back home, you had a

Quick-Stop every now and again.

- Where're you from, Cole?

- Tampa, Florida, born and raised.

- How about you?

- Chicago.

Cole, Stop the truck.

- What's he stopped the truck for?

- No idea.

What the hell's he doin'?

Why in the hell are we stopping?

- That's why,

- Son-of-a-b*tch.

- Fox said this road was clear.

- It probably was...

Look, see that hole?

Looks like somebody's been doing

some transplanting..

Guess so.

Good call, Keynes. You may have just

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes