Sync & corrections by Costa Dax www.addic7ed.com
What time is it?
- Almost 5:00. - P.M.?
A.M.
Shit, I don't know whether to eat breakfast or dinner.
It doesn't really matter.
Fuck it, I'll just get a coffee and a muffin.
What's that?
Sponsoring Alvarez's green card.
12 pages of mind-numbing paperwork
she's been up my ass for.
You better hope their native language is chicken scratch.
Filling out these tiny boxes is fucking agony.
What kind of sadist created these forms?
Somebody with a short last name.
Agh.
What are you gonna do to me?
You fucking idiot.
Cooper and I came home from the store,
front door was wide open,
walked in and he was dead in the living room.
It's about pretty much it.
Didn't hear anything? See anything?
Nope.
This didn't surprise you, did it?
Did it surprise you?
Didn't surprise me at all.
Motherfuckers!
Oh, shit.
Let's go, let's go, let's go.
Give me a hand!
Gonna lift you, okay?
Three, two, one.
How is he? Can you hear me, soldier?
Incoming!
Jesus.
- We gotta get him to the cash! - Cash is toast!
O.R. took a direct hit! Casualties there too!
- Where do we take him? - D-FAC!
Three, two, one. Lift!
All right, listen up!
We're gonna triage priority levels!
You know the drill. Red is immediate attention.
Yellow is anything that can wait six hours to live.
Green is walking wounded.
Anything that's not red...
Gets field-dressed
and will have to wait to get further treatment.
I want more of these cots. Find me more and blankets.
I don't see my medication here.
Where the fuck are all my drugs?
Hardly anything was salvageable.
- I brought all that I could. - You're bleeding.
- What happened? - I was in the O.R.
- when it got hit. - Are you gonna be okay?
I'll be fine... I had my back turned to the explosion.
- Just need a small dressing. - Good, 'cause I need you.
Anything you surgeons need from my supplies,
just say the word.
I always say you can eat off my floor, can operate off it too.
- Good to know. - Head trauma.
- Probable internal bleeding. - CT scan survive?
- A lot of equipment was lost. - Fuck.
- How's your leg? - Okay.
- Hold still. - Okay.
Where were you when the shells hit?
Walking out to the wire to smoke up.
Never got there. What about you?
In the lounge. By the way,
you wouldn't happen to have another copy
of that green card application, would you?
Spilled coffee on mine.
- You're a terrible husband. - Yeah.
Yeah, from my dad's side.
Sergeant Alvarez, take Nurse Ellis and go to the supply hut.
Bring me back all the goddamn morphine you can find.
Yes, ma'am! Come on.
All right.
Are you okay? Can you hear me?
Hey. Look at me. You're gonna be okay.
Come on, come on, come on.
Two, three.
Let's go. Let's go, let's go.
One, two, three!
I know that look. Talk to me.
Every FOB's on lockdown. No evacs until further notice.
Where the hell are we supposed to take our wounded?
Sir, QRF has engaged the mortar position
half a mile from our perimeter.
Hill two three bravo. Firefight in progress.
I'm also hearing FOB Resolute's now getting hit too.
Listen up, people. This is a coordinated attack.
You know what to do, do it.
If they won't let us move patients out,
then let's bring resources in.
Contact Bagram and get us a resupply...
Already did, sir. They said they'll add us
to the list but no promises on timing.
Shit.
- Call Camp Dwyer, requisition... - Already talked to them too.
They said at least 12 hours.
12 hours?
Everyone's covering their own asses, sir.
You know how it works.
Let Major Holloway know
we're gonna be on our own for a while.
Yes, sir.
- Corporal Durkin? - Yes, sir?
- Did the Starbucks get hit? - Still standing, sir.
Two double Americanos.
- Right-handed? - Left-handed.
Well, it's a good job you're an interpreter not a surgeon.
Yes.
We were maybe 10 yards from the supply hut when it got hit.
I think she has internal bleeding,
but the CAT scan and X-ray machines
- were destroyed in the blast. - How the hell am I supposed to
do this without imaging? Damn it, I'm flying blind here.
They're looking for an ultrasound in the wreckage.
Well, I'll take any goddamn thing I can get.
Everything in that supply hut is gone.
Jesus, this is insane.
They haven't even given us a timeline for re-supply,
got patients that may have to wait six hours for surgery,
and there's no morphine,
even though we happen to be right in the middle
of the fucking opium capital of the world!
I think I know of a place where the Major can find
what she needs.
She's not talking about collecting sap
from poppy fields.
She's speaking rhetorically, she's venting.
She's pointing out the irony of the...
Yes, I understand the irony she was pointing out.
Thank you. But what I'm saying is
I know where to find morphine. It is not far.
Talk to me.
There's been chatter among the locals.
What kind of chatter?
They have seen stocks of medical morphine.
How do they know it's medical grade?
- The vials have EU labels. - That's good enough for me.
Sergeant, if what he's saying is real
and it's out there, I want it.
I'm ordering you and your crew to go find it
and bring it back to me.
Ma'am, I'm happy to go,
but this could all be rumors. Don't you need me here?
Performing major combat surgery without anesthesia
hasn't been attempted since the Civil War.
I need that fucking morphine.
Ma'am, you don't need all of us out there.
At least let me stay here and help.
- Sold. - One more thing.
What is it?
Are you gonna be particular about how we get this done?
Not in the least.
Hey, where the hell are we going
- and what the fuck are we doing? - Excellent questions.
Khalil's the man. He knows.
Where the fuck are we going?
It's near this village right here.
It is a morphine processing plant.
- Says who? - Says Khalil.
And Holloway thinks it's worth a look-see,
so let's make it quick and get back with the pain relief.
I'm at half-fuel, I just put in a request to top off.
We don't have time to top off... we're not going that far.
We're gonna go on a wild goose chase
with no flight plan at half fuel
while the Taliban fills the air with mortar and rockets?
That's certainly one way to look at it.
Is there another?
We've been ordered to go on a wild goose chase
with no flight plan and half fuel
while the Taliban fills the air with mortars and rockets.
You've allayed all my concerns.
Kay. Let's take the fuck off.
Oh, come on, come on. Get on with it, already.
I'm working as fast as I can, sir.
Doing what exactly?
Trying to see the extent of the damage.
Let me save you some time. It's a minor wound.
Just patch it up and get me back in the game.
There's too much bloody work to be done.
- Can't see what I see. - Ahh, tell me what you see.
A subscapular penetration. 2 by 3 centimeters.
Superficial.
I'm looking right at it. It's pretty fucking deep.
Sir.
I haven't lost consciousness,
I'm not having any difficulty breathing,
my pulse is normal. Like I said, it's superficial.
Now just patch it up and let's go.
Wanna make sure nothing is hiding in there.
Can't believe you don't feel this.
All right, I feel it. I lied.
Happy now?
What do you want to be when you grow up, Sergeant?
My dream is to go to medical school, sir.
Well, I'll let you in on a little secret.
It's all just rote memorization.
Series of if/thens.
The truth is, any idiot can graduate medical school.
Very inspiring, sir.
You need instinct to be a great doctor.
Unfortunately, you're either born with it or you're not.
Can't be taught.
Well, then let's hope God has smiled down upon me.
Hurry up.
Come on, come on, come on.
Yes, sir.
Do you really work this slowly in the field?
Ah, aah!
Too tight?
Oh, I'm... I'm sorry, sir.
No you're not.
Oh, shit. All right, come on.
We're needed. Time's up.
Let's go.
All right, help me... help me with these wounded.
Sir, QRF has successfully engaged a mortar position.
Three enemy dead.
Something tells me they had more than one mortar position.
Tell QRF keep searching the perimeter
and get me that crater analysis.
Yes, sir.
Put together a battle damage assessment of the base.
I need to know what's still operational and what isn't.
On it, sir.
I hope you are enjoying the sheer pleasure of being out
while the Tally are lighting up the sky.
But it is now time to grab your cocks,
because I've got to make sure they don't get a second shot!
Whoo-hoo!
Whoo!
- I hate when he does this! - What?
It's like Disneyland except you don't have to wait in line
for three fucking hours!
You don't look so good, sir.
Save the color commentary and hand me what I ask for.
- I think you should sit down. - I'm not the patient.
Now hand me the blade.
I asked for the 10-blade. This is the 15.
- You didn't call a number. - Yes, I did.
You did not, sir.
Suction.
Uh, you're blocking my view.
- It's tight in there. - Uh, yes, it is.
So try not to obscure everything I need to see.
You're getting close to a tendon.
I'm well aware. Thank you.
All right. Forceps.
Gotcha, you bloody bastard.
All right.
- Needle. - You're really sweating, sir.
Needle, please.
Now you medics have a reputation, you know?
- Reputation? - Mm-hmm.
You look down on us doctors. You think we're all pussies
because we never venture outside the wire.
- It's true, isn't it? - No, sir, it's not.
The truth is, I could do your job.
It's just that I'm terrified of flying.
Always have been.
Come from a long line of RAF pilots, though.
My father, both my older brothers...
Of course they're terrified of blood, so you know what?
Screw them.
Aw...
Sir, your wound has opened up.
- No, no, I'll be fine. - No, no, I think we need to
go back in and see what's going on in there...
Uh, you know if Tiger Woods can win the U.S. Open
with a broken leg,
I can perform surgery with a topical wound.
- It's not a topical wound. - It most certainly is.
Is not. Help!
This doesn't exactly look like
the high rent district to me.
We're in Afghanistan, all right?
I would like to see what your Fifth Avenue would look like
after two hostile invasions and an 18-year civil war.
Probably look a lot like my neighborhood.
'Sup.
I've seen some ghetto pharmacies in my day,
but this is sad.
Yeah, Khalil, this is not the morphine we're looking for.
Of course.
Salaam alaikum.
Wait here.
Who do you think was the first guy to figure out
this stuff would make him so happy
he'd blow one his cavemen buddies just to score more?
I don't know.
I used to know this kid from back home
who used to shoot black tar up his ass to get high.
- Say what? - Yeah.
He and I used to work the night shift at Denny's.
But he was terrified of needles,
so every day before work
he'd mix it with canola oil, stick it in a baster and...
Yeah, I get the picture.
So you're suggesting we should turn this tar
into morphine suppositories?
Kid ended up dying of internal bleeding.
- Doubt it was the canola oil. - All your stories make me sad.
Why are we wasting time here?
To get the location of a refining facility
all the locals have been whispering about.
And now I have it.
Thank you, Khalil. You're welcome, Khalil.
- Let's go. - Let's go.
- Tell me what you see. - Shrapnel.
Lodged between the four rib and the scapula.
Oh, bloody hell.
Yes, it is.
Must've bounced off the bone and hid in the pocket.
You shouldn't have rushed me, sir.
All right, well, you're gonna have to get it out of there.
Sir, that's surgery. I'm not trained to do this.
Stop complaining. You want to be a doctor?
Prove yourself, all right? I'll talk you through it.
Okay, but there's a lot of tissue in the way.
Well, you're just going to have to trim some of it,
all right?
Like you've seen me do on all the others.
All right, now just create a path
and pull it out with the forceps.
Sir, that'll be real hard for you without pain meds.
Tell me something that's not bloody obvious!
Well, I can ask Major Holloway to spare some.
No, no! Leave it for the others.
Yes, sir.
Oh!
Oof. All right.
Guess I'm about to test my tolerance for pain.
You're certainly testing mine.
The fuck is this place?
About as far off the main road as I'm comfortable with.
Who the fuck are you?
United States Army.
We're medics out of FOB Guardian.
What are you doing here?
We're looking to secure a supply of morphine.
We were sent by our commanding officer.
Wait here.
Morphine production?
Another scam SecCorp's got their dicks in.
Someone's gotta hold these fucks accountable.
I'll be sure to bring it up
at their next stockholder's meeting.
Hans Rüegsegger.
How may I assist you gentlemen?
We need some medical morphine.
As much as we can.
What is this place?
You can say it's an experiment, really.
See I'm working for a Berlin-based
pharmaceutical company.
- You're German? - Swiss.
Let me show you around.
We've been testing the feasibility
of turning raw opium into morphine here.
Right where it is grown.
Cut out all the shadowy middlemen, corrupt bureaucrats.
Turns out we've been saving a tremendous amount of money
doing it this way.
So far it's been a smashing success.
Smashing.
We're planning six more processing plants
here in the next year. Our investors are very excited.
Anyone bother to tell your investors
there's a civil war going on?
We have arrangements.
The world has never seen a free market quite like this.
So look, our forward operating base,
the one that makes it safe for you to do all this,
is in desperate need of some morphine,
but we're a little short on time, so...
Under normal circumstances
I would be happy to supply you, but...
unfortunately, everything I have right now
has been spoken for.
- I'm quite sorry. - Spoken for, huh?
What would it take to speak louder for this stuff?
If you want to cut in line, it will cost you.
But since you are U.S. military,
I'm happy to try and work something out.
The least I can do is entertain an offer.
There's a bout a grand in petty cash on the bird.
What will 1,000 U.S. dollars get us?
For real?
What kind of bullshit?
No wonder my mom's medical bills are through the roof.
Big Pharma's got everybody by the short hairs.
Look, those three vials are not gonna cut it.
It's barely enough for a weekend in Reno.
And we don't have any more money.
But of course you do.
You know something we don't?
I know that you flew in here
in a $20 million Black Hawk helicopter
bought and paid for by the U.S. Army.
The same army that supplies every one of its bases
with a healthy amount of reconstruction money
This is the coin of the realm, gentlemen.
And if you need these supplies as desperately as you claim,
then I suggest that you get back
into your overpriced chariot and get some.
Go, go, go, go.
I'll wait.
A morphine processing facility.
Yeah, in the middle of nowhere, sir.
- Run by a German guy? - Swiss.
- In a linen suit. - Perfect for the climate.
Sir.
He wants money.
More than the petty cash we had on the bird.
A lot more.
How much money are we talking about?
He didn't give us an exact figure,
but he kept talking about reconstruction funds.
It's something that can happen.
But I need to know, is he legit?
It seems so, sir.
He, uh,
he had a bunch of SecCorp guys guarding the place,
but none we recognized. They're not from here.
- SecCorp? - Yeah.
Christ.
That means this is some fucked up version of legit.
Yeah.
Okay, let's do this deal before it gets any shadier.
- We need these drugs yesterday. - Yes, sir.
Take care of it.
- Where we going? - Just follow me.
Stand over there.
Turn around.
Don't be idiots.
The combination changes every day.
You can turn back around now.
Reconstruction funds...
Used to buy off local politicians,
grease various wheels,
and pay off the families of victims of collateral damage.
It helps with their healing. And their silence.
How much is in there?
That's classified, but I usually have to refill it
every week with cash brought in from Bagram.
Right under our goddamn noses.
Will $100,000 be enough?
Sure hope so.
I'll give you more just in case.
I'm only authorized to disperse 250 grand
in any 24-hour period. So let's do that.
It feels kind of light for this much cash.
Everyone says that.
You need a receipt or anything?
This money's used for the kinds of things
they don't wanna leave paper trails for.
Damn, girl.
There's a whole other side of you to dig into.
Mmm. Too late.
It's never too late.
- Roback. - Yeah?
Be careful.
Nice to know you care.
What about me?
You be careful too.
Now both of you get the fuck out of here.
Right, remember what I said... one clean motion.
Just figuring out my angle of attack, sir.
Angle of attack?
You're not raiding the bloody Bin Laden compound.
- Just get on with it. - Yes, sir.
Wow.
How big?
- Like a chickpea. - What?
It can't be.
Well, how'd you miss that the first go round?
I did not miss it.
I was exploring for it, and then you stopped me.
Well, explore better next time, Sergeant.
Oh, thank God, the grownups have arrived.
- How's it looking back there? - You'll live.
Give me a 5/8ths needle.
Uh, what kind of closure are you making?
- Vertical mattress. - Oh, no, no, no.
- I want a simple closure. - My way will be much stronger.
No, but I don't want that.
A vertical mattress is not called for here.
It's not up for discussion.
I do simple closures all the time... it'll be no problem.
Tough shit, I'm your surgeon, and I'm in a hurry.
- Sir, Ma'am... - Stay out of this, Sergeant.
Look, I'm telling you
there's a much higher risk of necrosis
if you do it your way. I can show you the data.
You can't show me shit right now.
You're just worried about being at the beach
without your shirt on.
It's my bloody scar, isn't it?
Private Kelly just took a turn for the worse.
I'm not having this fucking argument.
Here. You can do it his way.
Ma'am, suture isn't really my purview.
- It is now. - Wait, wait, wait.
What's going on?
The sergeant's gonna suture you up.
So if I were you, I'd be a lot fucking nicer to her.
Bloody hell.
Oh, God.
They left the door open for us.
You've gotta be fucking kidding me.
How the hell did they clean this place out so fast?
German efficiency?
- He was Swiss. - Eh.
What do we tell Colonel Austin?
Collective fever dream?
The truth. Hans got spooked.
Drug dealers move out as soon as they smell danger's close.
I had this neighbor who cleared all his shit out
as soon as he found out one of his buyers
was the police chief's son.
- Smart guy. - Not really.
He just moved to the next garage over, got busted.
It's Hemet, not Medellin.
What now?
The fuck was that?
Go.
- I don't see nothin'. - Up on the left!
That's not good. Shit just got real.
- We're not equipped to engage. - Got no choice, amigo.
That morphine's out there, and it's our job to find it
and get it back.
- Let's fuckin' do this. - Okay.
Shut the fuck up!
- Khalil, who are those guys? - Taliban.
- You sure? - Yes.
They're Haqqani network.
Talk about sleeping with the enemy.
Swiss motherfucker.
Shut the fuck up!
God damn.
Well, that'll be a lovely story to tell our kids one day.
Let's grab that morphine and go.
That's it for the morphine.
Thought we were doing half doses.
We just finished the last drip.
Damn it.
I have the needle through the skin now.
All right, now pull the line up through as we discussed.
Do you feel that?
My, God, yes.
Just assume that I can feel all of this
and everybody else's pain too, all right?
Now come up through the skin
on the other side and pull it through.
- Are you okay? - I'm nervous, sir.
Everyone's nervous their first time, okay?
You should have seen me with my first patient.
My sutures looked like an angry game of knots and crosses.
Thank God he was under anesthesia.
You can do this, all right? It's just surgery.
Right. Just surgery.
Make sure the edges of the skin line up
so that there's no gaps and no dog ears!
This is of utmost importance to me, all right?
I'll have to live with this the rest of my life.
No pressure.
How's it looking?
- Pretty good, I guess. - You guess?
It looks great, sir.
All right.
Now loop it around and make the knot like we discussed.
Oh, remember to keep the edges nice and even!
All right? No lumps, no dog ears.
Nice work, Sergeant. Halfway home.
Uh, Sergeant, if you could just stop what you're doing.
This will only take a moment.
Aaaaaaaahhhhh!
Then the German accused the Taliban of putting the IED
too close to the lab.
Turns out he had a point.
The Taliban replied that they put it there
- to protect the lab. - Two sides to every story.
That is when the German got arrogant,
and uh, what is this word? Dummkopfs.
Something you don't call somebody
when they're pointing an AK-47 at you.
Yes, Taliban were deeply insulted.
The rest needs no translation.
Helluva shot.
We can't leave Americans behind.
Of course not.
Gonna bring 'em back on the bird with us.
Make sure they get home to their families.
How much morphine are we supposed to take back with us?
- As much as we can carry. - Roger that.
- Son of a bitch. - What?
That's Sasquatch's SUV. Taliban painted it white.
SecCorp to the ANA to the Taliban.
And I'm gonna drive it back to SecCorp.
Are you out of your mind?
We've been telling Sasquatch we have what he wants.
Well, now we have what he wants.
You take the morphine back to the bird.
I'm driving this back.
There's too many bad guys out here, amigo.
I don't care. I'm driving it.
No you're fucking not.
This will still be here.
We take the keys and then we come back for it.
I don't wanna chance it.
I'm driving this back. Give me the key.
See any survivors out here?
What are you getting at?
As far as everybody's concerned
we paid for the morphine.
Nobody's asking for receipts.
We take the cash.
We'd be damn fools if we didn't.
Now let's fucking bring back
what we were sent out here to fucking bring back.
Dust off 31, this is Delta Sierra,
we're ready for extract. Over.
Roger that, Delta Sierra. On the way.
First thing you're gonna do with your cut?
Buy a Bentley.
Or pay my mom's medical bills. How 'bout you?
Gonna get my family the hell out of Hemet.
Sons of bitches.
They think that they can get a free shot at us on the return?
- Look out! - Suck on this!
What the fuck?
I thought you were going for the cash!
- It was closer to you! - I'm right-handed.
It was closer to you!
That doesn't make any fucking sense.
Where the fuck were you?
One of the bags fell out.
We need to go back and pick it up.
We don't have enough fuel to circle back.
Besides, that RPG says it's Taliban country down there.
That shit is gone, man!
- Fuck! - Fuck.
Don't worry about it.
Everyone makes a few dog ears on their first try.
- What? - Kidding.
It's perfect.
Don't worry, you'll still look good in your Speedo.
Well, fortunately for you,
you were born with bloody good instincts.
Thank you, sir.
Stick with me, Sergeant.
I'll prepare you to be a damn good doctor
without all of that mindless memorization.
I would like that, sir.
No questions asked?
No questions asked.
Thanks for not just leaving them out there.
We don't roll like that.
What do you tell the family of a contractor killed
thousands of miles from home?
We're sorry, but your son died
protecting a German opioid corporation
who split profits with the Taliban?
You tell 'em they'll be well taken care of financially.
I hope they'll think it was all worth it.
They know what they signed up for.
Well, it's not exactly Medal of Honor material, is it?
I just keep playing it over and over in my head.
This must be what it's like to lose the Super Bowl.
At least those losers get a cut of the TV money.
That bag was closer to you.
I'm sure of it.
You misremember.
The mind plays tricks.
All you had to do was grab it.
- I was going for the morphine. - Look.
Do me a favor. Stop reliving it.
You're not doing anybody any good.
I need a receipt for that cash.
What?
Just fucking with you, guys.
Stupid.
Uh...
You always have access to those reconstruction funds?
Yeah.
Thanks, man.
Mm-hmm.
- Look, a fresh new copy! - Ah.
I'm not even gonna say a thing.
I'll get it done, I promise.
I even have my own pen.
Great. Hmm.
- What is your deal? - I get easily distracted.
- Son of a bitch. - What?
This is the blue fob.
The blue fob that Sasquatch has been looking for
this whole time.
- It's a thumb drive. - Give me that.
We need to get that fight back on, amigo.
Yes.
Sync & corrections by Costa Dax www.addic7ed.com