Behind Enemy Lines: Axis of Evil Page #2
- Year:
- 2006
- 37 Views
You don't think the North Koreans
would pick up a commercial airliner...
leaving from a U.S. Military base
in South Korea?
Leaving from a U.S. Military base
in South Korea?
Sir, we would just dress
the SEALs up...
walk 'em right through
Incheon International...
put 'em on a chartered
commercial airliner and take off...
mixed right in with civilian traffic.
Completely undetectable.
We would deploy over North Korea...
glide the 60 miles
to the Yongjiri missile site...
and sabotage the missile
as it's being fueled.
Secondary explosions
should destroy the entire complex.
Whole thing will be perceived
as an industrial accident of some kind.
North Korea'd have
no grounds to retaliate.
And if it turned out to be a nuclear warhead,
what about the radiation?
The blast from the fuel explosions
would be massive, sir.
Even though it wouldn't be
an atomic blast...
its own mushroom cloud.
The heat from the blast would
incinerate any nuclear materials...
alleviating any radiation concerns.
Sir, I don't recommend this.
If they're detected, it's an act of war,
and we lose the element of surprise.
What's the window of opportunity
to explore a Special Ops plan?
I'd say 72 hours,
but I wouldn't...
- Seventy-two hours.
- Sir, a covert action?
L...We need to send a strong
proportional and visible response...
to the North Koreans...
to the whole world...
to put them on notice
that that dog don't hunt.
to be an I.C.B.M. Power.
Commander Mackey,
could you be ready in 72 hours?
Yes, sir. I believe
we could be ready.
Admiral?
It's not much time to put
a mission together, sir, but...
I understand.
Gentlemen, keep up
with your preparations.
I'll give you a decision
within six hours.
Yes, sir. We'll give it
everything we've got.
Thank you, Mr. President.
"Give it everything we've got."
Tell me I didn't just say that.
What are you looking at?
- Get Lieutenant James in here.
- Yes, sir.
Mr. President...
Kim Jong II is 5'2".
He wears four-inch lifts.
He lives in a pleasure palace where he
indulges his penchant for Swedish prostitutes.
This missile is pompous grandstanding
by a very small man.
Sir, in 1996, the Korea Institute
for National Reunification...
applied a computer model that accurately
predicted Eastern Europe's collapse.
- Yeah?
- According to the model...
North Korea
should have collapsed in 1992.
I say we give this job to Special Ops
and make this all go away...
when it collapses.
Cam?
Yeah.
Okay.
Tell Mackey his mission is a "go."
But keep General Vance
and his Stealth bombers on standby...
should the SEALs fail.
- Lieutenant.
- Colonel. Thanks for the lift today, sir.
- They gave us a nice plane for this one.
- I see that.
- We gonna get miles for this?
- No, but I did order you the kosher meal.
- L.T.C.
- Guys, grab a seat and stow your stuff.
Let me know when you and your guys
get settled in. We'll be on our way.
Appreciate the hell
outta that, sir.
- Hoo-ya, Lieutenant James.
- Hoo-ya, Shultiess.
- How you feelin' today, papa?
- I feel immortal.
- I'm "the Stoke."
- Stoke?
- Oh, it's just my new call sign.
- Wasn't aware you had an old one.
Well, my old one was for mortals,
and I am immortal.
- I'm the Stoke.
- Whatever.
Okay. Good evening, gentlemen...
with nonstop service
to the skies over North Korea...
where we'll be jumping from an altitude
of approximately 33,000 feet.
Meideros in the hatch.
Barnes, Shultiess, Ballantine.
AK-47s.
Not a scratch, guys.
The airline wants this plane back...
in the same condition
they gave it to us in.
- You got it, Daiwi.
- Daiwi? Why do you guys call him that?
I don't call him that, but I've known him
since, like, the second grade.
- Hey, hey! What did he just say?
- I'm sorry.
It's okay, kid.
Hey, you scared?
Don't lie to me.
I don't know.
Maybe... Maybe a little.
Damn straight you're scared.
Who wouldn't be?
- Yeah.
- Yeah.
Stick with me, kid.
I'm immortal.
Go. Go.
Yeah. A P.V.C. 77 SATCOM.
That's you, schoolboy.
- Give it to Ballantine.
- I got it.
Okay, gentleman,
time to give up the personal sh*t.
Throw in the jewels. Let's go, boys.
Be careful with that. That's my wife.
I want these back.
What are those, son?
I said, what are those, Ensign?
- Bullshit!
Army lead wings, son.
You get 'em inside CrackerJacks.
- Where'd you get 'em, son?
- Ort Benning, Master Chief.
Ort Benning, Georgia.
The army's version of 48 hours
of intensive training...
crammed into 21 days.
Making p*ssy...ass static...line jumps
out of an Army C...141...
and landing on firm ground.
My one...year...old, Scott Jr.,
can do that.
- You see these?
- Yes, Master Chief.
Navy gold wings, son.
Get those out of my sight. I will teach you
to drop like a Navy SEAL...
no air to breathe...
into water so cold
you'll wish you was dead.
You will drop at night
with N.V.G.'s...
fall five minutes
before you pull your cord.
And if you manage
to stay alive through all that...
a pair of these.
Is that clear?
Hoo...ya, Master Chief!
I don't know why you
always bring these, sir.
You just make sure
I get 'em back.
Yes, sir.
Check your "O" rings.
How you doin' there, Shultiess?
Good, sir.
Sir, it says here that the Koreans,
uh, believe in shamans.
Sometimes he appears as an old man.
Sometimes as a tiger.
- Sometimes as a leopard.
- Everything's gonna be all right.
Y...Uh...
It's just, uh...
I was glad to read
about those shamans, you know?
I don't want to die
in a godless land, sir. That's all.
Hey.
Nobody's dying from my stick.
You copy that, sailor?
Yes, sir.
Makes me look bad.
- Pressurize in six.
- Pressurize in six.
Six minutes. Six. Six to go.
On deck. Six minutes.
- Sir, we're ready for the bounce.
- Okay.
Two minutes.
- All right, listen up.
- What is your problem?
I'm throwing up.
I hate jumping out of airplanes.
- Swallow it.
- I am.
"Pencil...dick" engineers
designed this aircraft...
to carry p*ssy...ass businessmen
from Omaha to St. Louis.
If they see you chuckin',
they're gonna red tag you.
We may find it useful to jump out of
a commercial piece of sh*t such as this.
What I don't get is why you go Navy SEALs
when you hate jumping out of airplanes.
I like swimming.
I'm a good swimmer.
Depressurize.
Now, obviously,
the pencil d*cks in Seattle...
didn't design this ramp
to be deployed under these conditions.
The system's hydraulics can't compete
with the overwhelming force...
of the airstreams
under the fuselage...
preventing the stairs
from locking into place.
Fortunately, the U.S. Navy
has devised "the bounce."
Now, personally...
I've seen men injured, maimed...
and even killed
attempting to do this.
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