Battle: Los Angeles AKA World Invasion: Battle LA Page #6

---

- Do you understand?|- Yeah.

Again, the girls will be first.

I promise you nothing's|gonna happen. Okay? Stay down!

Lieutenant, dozen hostiles,|maybe more!

Four hundred metres and closing fast!

Cover, cover!|What the hell are you doing?

You guys need another gun.

Three o'clock. Up on the bridge,|Santos. Up on the bridge.

Incoming!

Ten o'clock!

- Reloading!|- Aim for the leader!

Hell, you can take all the room|you want.

Mottola, move, move, move!

Yes, staff sergeant!|Come on, let's go!

Let's go, go, go! Run now, run!

Keep running! Don't stop, run!|Run, run, run!

- Get in there!|- Cover me!

- I'm going for the .50 cal!|- Hurry up!

Get some, Lockett.

- Sh*t.|- What the hell is that thing?

I'm engaging!

You'll be okay, all right? It's okay.|Listen to me. You're going to be okay.

I got you. I will not let anything|happen to you, all right?

Sh*t!

Man down!

You're gonna be okay. Hold on,|hold on! Keep going. Hold on!

Keep looking up!

Oh, God!

I got you.|It's okay. It's okay.

Get the ant that's controlling|that thing!

Lockett, get off your ass!

It's turning this way!

It's about to hit the fan, guys.|Get out now! Move!

Santos, come on!

- Come on!|- I'm stuck.

Go!

- What are you doing?|- Go!

Imlay!

Where's Stavrou?

Mottorola! How many down?

Two down, staff sarge! One to go!

Look at me, look at me. Look, look.|Be good, okay?

- It's gonna be fine, okay? You ready?|- Lieutenant, C-4!

Let's blow this sucker to hell!

- All right?|- Let's do it.

Kerns!

Covering!

All right, dough is good to go!

- Go!|- Covering!

Damn it! We've lost the detonator.

- You all right?|- Yeah, got the wind knocked out of me.

- Mottorola!|- Dad!

You're okay, Hector! You're okay.

Hold on!

I need bandages from|the first aid kit.

Sir! Sir!

It's okay!

Oh, my God!

All right.

We gotta get you to a medevac.

Doc!

Oh, sh*t, man!

- We need some cover!|- Damn it, I'm out!

- Got another mag, Lockett?|- They kicking our ass!

You're getting pinned down,|staff sergeant!

Marines, you're getting pinned down!

We're not leaving you, lieutenant.

Staff sergeant, you gotta|get them out of here!

- Lieutenant, I am not leav...|- You gotta get them out of here!

- No, I'm not leaving you!|- You gotta get them out of here!

No! Not again!

I have a bag of C-4 on the bus.

Give this to my wife...

...and get them off|this goddamn freeway.

That's an order.

Yes, sir.

Right behind you.

Cover the lieutenant!

Hey, I'm out!

They're closing in!

Here we go.

This is Lieutenant William Martinez...

...Echo Company, 2nd Battalion,|5th Marines. Hoorah!

We're still half a klick|inside the bombing zone.

Move to live, Marines.

Did he just leave the lieutenant|back there to die?

Sure looked that way.

And this is the guy|in charge of us now?

Let's move.

Hey, those are our jets.|We're still in the fight.

All right,|we're clear of the bomb zone.

Let's tighten this place down.

Bombs drop in six minutes.

Santos, Kerns, on me.

Let's see if there are any comms.|All right? Hardwire only.

- Corporal Harris, we clear?|- Yeah, we're clear!

- Do you have a hard line in here?|- Over there.

Now, my son's an optimist.

When this first happened, he said,|"Why don't we go try to talk to them?

Maybe they wanna be friends."

Hector? Hey.

We're gonna go get some food|and water for your dad, okay?

It's okay.

And what'd you tell him?

I said:

"You know, if they're chasing|and shooting us...

...they're probably not good friends."

I should've followed directions|and gone to the F.O.B.

I should've never stayed at the police|station, but I was scared, man.

I made all the wrong decisions.

You trusted your gut, Mr. Rincon.

You made a call.

I'd do the same thing to|protect my Marines.

- I had a situation my last tour.|- Yeah?

There was no right call. You went left|or you go right, it didn't matter.

But you're alive.

Yeah, I survived.

But I wasn't supposed to.

Staff Sergeant Nantz...

You promise to save my son?

Staff sergeant, we have|a hardwired connection!

Doc, keep him warm. Sun is going down.

This will keep you warm.

to cut us off from one another.

at this time, Professor Stavert?

our water as their fuel...

already decreasing.

ships, their machinery...

...possibly their own bodies.

our water that's unique.

locations in our known universe...

anywhere near their surface.

they will use our sewage systems...

back to their ships.

How'd you get that to work?

These things are everywhere. There's|one off the coast of 20 countries.

They're calling it|the command-and-control centre.

- That's the thing you were tracking?|- Yeah.

So you're saying that's the thing|that's controlling the drones?

Yeah. And if we wipe it out,|we take out their air power.

These bombs better work.

- Let's move it.|- Bring him through here.

- Set him down.|- How much time we got?

One minute.

Air Force about to lay some pain|on those extraterritorial bastards.

- All right, Two-Five, retreat...|- Hell!

- Retreat...|- Hell!

Here we go.

Come on.|Let's fry these sons of b*tches.

We get to the F.O.B. after|these bombs drop, get some ammo.

And some goddamn reinforcements.|Some goddamn tanks.

- Ten.|- Gotta be strong, okay?

Nine.

Eight.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

Four.

Three...

Sh*t. Everybody, brace!

- Hey! They should've dropped.|- What the hell?

Wouldn't we have felt that|from here if they'd dropped?

If they'd dropped by now,|we would've felt them here.

Would've felt it in goddamn Nevada|with that much ordnance.

That clock right?

That's what I got.

Maybe it's a good thing, right?|Maybe we turned the tide.

I mean, that's a good thing, right.

You damn straight, Imlay.|We was kicking some ass out there.

Could they have taken out|the whole Air Force?

This isn't happening.

Let's move.

Everybody, up, up. Let's move.|Come on.

We're in the home stretch, everybody.|We in the home stretch.

Now we know why|those bombs didn't drop.

They wiped our forward|operating base right off the map.

All clear, staff sergeant!

All right, let's bring him back here.

Hang in there, buddy.

Million-and-one odds|we'd get here in the first place...

...we get here and there ain't nothing.|I knew Nantz would never get us out.

- There were thousands of Marines here.|- Now it's just seven of us, Imlay.

You remind me of my older brother.

How's that?

He never smiles either.

Secure the front with Harris.

Imlay, anything?

Nothing, staff sergeant.|We only got maps of Santa Monica.

We need something farther east.|They're all burned.

Follow me, Imlay.

All right, here's the|battalion commander's hooch.

We're looking for maps,|anything with an extraction point.

Staff sergeant.

I'll be right back.

Found a tactical map, staff sergeant.

Shows where all the units|were deployed.

What the hell are all these red marks?

It means they're gone.

- You mean the units got moved?|- Wiped out.

- All of them?|- All of them.

Oh, sh*t.

All right. One alternate extraction|site is still operational.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes